A weekend in the waiting for well over a year now, due to my forgetfulness and outright missing of it the first go around, finally arrived.  The Sheep to Shawl on Oatland Island.  The rain came down, but not before a good bit of fun was had.

One day my sheep will come.  If I have to be an old lady, so be it.  I too will be caressing her knatty fur while snip snipping away.  Teaching my grandkids (if it comes to that) to card the wool then tapping away on the pedal of spindle.  My boys, my Lee and this lady here had a glorious time.  There were rainy wagon rides, downpours under tin roofs, dutch oven corn bread slathered in honey, and many many questions asked to men and women tending to the fibers.