Dreams, Moments, Travels
As the many years of Caroline’s long life have gone by she has become a well-rounded person, continuing her education to get a college degree, expanding her horizons with a ton of travel experiences, taking up yoga, even trying belly dancing. She has a few hobbies where she emphasizes quality time, such as crocheting in her off time. This sweater Caroline is crocheting is made of bamboo yarn. I think it will look smashing on her, what do you think?
Nowhere to go, nothing to do, Caroline lounges around in her jim-jams sipping tea relaxing in her bean bag on a lazy Sunday. Only 39 days left until my old lady officially becomes an ‘old lady’. Isn’t she just precious in her Hello Kitty jammies? I love you, Caroline.
Rise and shine sweetness, it’s only 40 days till your 40th birthday. In honor of my beautiful wife’s big four-oh happening on December 12th, I have chosen the best gift yet I have given this most precious woman in my life – I am celebrating her in photographs here for the next 40 days. And so it is that on this early Saturday morning, I awoke my birthday girl Caroline, that’s right everyone, this is what my wife looks like before makeup and all the primping that comes with getting old, like her. Get ready, Caroline, for the greatest birthday gift you are likely ever to receive. Big Hugs, Sweety!!!
Important Note: This is another series of blog posts where, when the events described within were transpiring, we did not take notes, and so here I am, thousands of years later, attempting to give context to images that, while able to trigger fragments of memories, act as an incomplete picture of the story. Sure enough, we should have been tending to these things without fail, but little did we understand the value of revisiting milestones later in life. And so, without that proverbial further ado, here we go into a murky past.
While there were no notes regarding this trip to Oklahoma and Kansas, the photos tell a lot about what was going on. Take, for example, this image at the airport while it’s still dark out; sunrise on October 1, 2007, was at 7:25, and from the photo below, you can see that we were well in the air before sun rays struck the surface of the land below. Checking my calendar, I found that this day fell on a Monday, so this all adds up to the fact that we were racing home as early as possible for one reason.
Caroline was on her way to work, and we would have been on the first non-stop flight of the day, taking us back to Arizona.
Looks like Arizona to me.
Getting in around 8:30 in the morning allowed Caroline to show up at work right on time at 9:00. There is a downside to this arrangement, and that is we likely awoke around 2:30 in the morning Phoenix time or 4:30 in Oklahoma City, so we could return the rental car and get through security. The upside was that we weren’t rushed getting out of Harveyville, Kansas, yesterday, and we could meander on side roads instead of bolting back the 300 miles via a sterile freeway.
Important Note: This is another series of blog posts where, when the events described within were transpiring, we did not take notes, and so here I am, thousands of years later, attempting to give context to images that, while able to trigger fragments of memories, act as an incomplete picture of the story. Sure enough, we should have been tending to these things without fail, but little did we understand the value of revisiting milestones later in life. And so, without that proverbial further ado, here we go into a murky past.
The graduating class of 2007 “Fall Edition” of Yarn School, as organized by the Harveyville Project, is seen here in all of its “Bad Ass Women of Crafting” glory. I ended up spending more time among these curious women than I thought I would, which elicited the question from a few of them, “What did you think of this experience?” My answer went something like, “I’m floored at the openness and sharing of not only the instructors but of those with complementary skills regarding the fiber arts world. From my world of tech, I’m mostly used to chest-beating secretive bragging of a bunch of alpha males that would never share anything that might help someone else without a financial component.”
This is why we wear clothes as women have historically created, evolved, and worked the tools used for making fabric; well, that’s what anthropologists have come to believe, and it sounds good to me.
What would a three-and-a-half-day workshop be without swag? T-shirts and tote bags were part of the haul.
These are the t-shirts I mentioned and to complete the return to high school sense of things, lockers had been assigned to each participant to store things they didn’t need at every juncture.
This was our room in Social Sciences, which included a chalkboard behind me that we never used as we were too busy to pay much attention.
Finally, this was Blake, our person in the kitchen who prepared our many meals, often vegetarian or vegan. As for the toad, I can’t tell you anything at all about it, but I’ll take a stab at suggesting it was an Eastern narrow-mouthed version of the species.
As you can guess from this photo, we are leaving Kansas after an incredibly satisfying journey into something new.
While not represented photographically, we turned our 4-hour drive into a full half-day affair by stopping here, there, and everywhere.
In our meandering trek back to Oklahoma City for tomorrow morning’s flight, we were stopped by undecipherable crazy registered on this massive steel structure, airing grievances we couldn’t understand. This “used” to be on Highway 64 before entering Perry, meaning that in the intervening 14 years since we passed through, the signs were torn down due to road improvements.
A last stop at the Steak & Catfish Barn because it was that good, followed by this spectacular glow of the last moments of sunset. Our motel was another non-descript, super cheap, nearly embarrassing excuse for lodging, but what the heck, it helps us afford these kinds of amazing adventures.
Important Note: This is another series of blog posts where, when the events described within were transpiring, we did not take notes, and so here I am, thousands of years later, attempting to give context to images that, while able to trigger fragments of memories, act as an incomplete picture of the story. Sure enough, we should have been tending to these things without fail, but little did we understand the value of revisiting milestones later in life. And so, without that proverbial further ado, here we go into a murky past.
It’s uneven and a bit lumpy, but Caroline has succeeded in spinning some primitive yarn. A drop spindle is a great tool to understand how the fibers come together. A spinning wheel requires a lot more coordination between the hands that hold the fiber and the feet that control the speed of the whole operation. Let me fast-forward here a bit as after we returned to Arizona, Caroline agreed that it would be interesting enough to buy her own wheel, but like all new hobbies, she felt like a klutz because she couldn’t find her rhythm. Guilt for spending a lot of money on something she might not be able to master was dealing her a negative hand. I believe it was towards the end of the year in 2007, when I was collecting a bunch of birthday gifts for her 40th and was frequently visiting a yarn store in Mesa, that I learned that there were people who could tutor her about using her new Fricke spinning wheel. It took this little nudge for her to find her rhythm with the wheel, which led to us visiting Yarn School again in 2008.
While my memory is likely rusty, Caroline’s is certainly finely tuned, and it will be up to her to confirm or deny if I’m correct in stating that I believe this is the result of the roving she dyed the day before.
Carding is the process of aligning fibers which is a requirement allowing them to be spun. The device Caroline is using is known as a drum carder, and it wouldn’t be long before we had one at home. It turns out that combs can also be used and for spinning, one needn’t buy a pricey wheel. A “drop spindle” can also get the job done, but this isn’t a class in how to make yarn just a recounting of those days we were both learning a lot more about this craft than we’d previously known.
So I’m not just looming over Caroline (did you pick up on my pun?), I took a drive out in yet another direction, this time taking me to Burlingame, Kansas.
From the dearth of photos, I guess I’d have to admit I wasn’t all that inspired out here today. I had to include this grain silo as, for some reason or other, I have a soft spot that draws me to these superstructures dispersed across the American landscape.
No old cars here, no weed, no lake, river, pond, or sign of a tornado.
Back at school, I spy this nerdy girl looking all cute and invite her out for some tortoise racing. Caroline was ready for a break after struggling all day with her transition from spindle to wheel.
But my tortoise was shy, so I asked if she’d like to ride my goat.
She agreed but the goat resisted, uttering in goat-ese that its legs were too short.
Fluffy bunny insisted there weren’t wings hidden deep in its fur and so our fantasy of flying away wasn’t going to work.
Then I saw this gorgeous bunny and nearly lost sight of the nerdy girl because who wouldn’t fall in love with this bundle of cuddles? Maybe “love” is too strong, as I’m not one to insinuate some kind of bestial attraction, so I’ll change this to “enchanted.” The Pygora goats and Angora bunnies were brought to the Yarn School students by local breeders. They patiently answered everyone’s questions about these somewhat unusual fiber animals.
It’s Saturday, a week after the beginning of fall with just a month until Halloween, and the town of Harveyville is welcoming the change of seasons with a parade.
The local National Guard, fire department, marching band, a wide cast of characters, and, of course, these Cub Scouts made up as pirates ready for some early trick-or-treating were all streaming by as the participants of Yarn School cheered them on.
I can’t say this spider with its children riding on its backside was intentionally part of the parade, but there it was.
With a number of spinning wheels on hand, the women of Yarn School were able to try them all if they had the interest. Caroline is finally getting the hang of spinning on a wheel and experimenting with different models to see if one is “easier” than others. This particular one is a Mazurka made by Kromski.
I’d bet a dollar everyone is interested in what accumulating yarn looks like as it wraps around a bobbin; well, I am.
This is the last night of Yarn School, and there’s no rush to head off to sleep as, by now, the camaraderie and sharing have led to budding friendships, and so the ladies will be out here burning the midnight oil as they try to extend the experience forever.