Tuesday, August 11, 2020


 I've just finished taking pictures of the new sets of threads and need to rest my eyes. 

Looking at Salem is always a relief from too much color. A pause.

It's only August but Summer seems to be holding her breath. What next? Fresh Hell? Mayhem or...

Sweet peace, gentle water, cloth, thread, children laughing, good music. 

A nice buzz, cold lemonade, a good read. A good night's sleep on cool sheets.

 I hope you can get some of what you need, wherever you are in this world. Peace and out for a while. Stay safe and strong.

Sunday, August 09, 2020


THEY are watching Perry Mason while I work.

No spoilers! I'll watch it after my shift.
   Today, I watched string dry. I like the way they are in little conversational pods. Huddling. I kept rearranging the groups. Twice herded everyone inside because the skies got gloomy. Some of these got a little carried away with color. No matter, they'll find good homes.

Saturday, August 08, 2020

saving the day. saving myself.

I'm not normally prone to insomnia. Of course, my rhythms get thrown off when Charlie spends time here. Friday night was recovery night, but waking at 3:30am? I should have known better than to pick up my phone. If I'd turned the pillows over for a cool spot and nudged a cat away for room to stretch, I would have fallen back to sleep.

Instead, I opened an email and was ready to dress head to toe in black wrappings, find my rusty machete, and head out into the night looking for someone deserving to slay. Let's just say it's a long skulk to Washington. I'm beginning to understand the rash of seemingly unprovoked violence going around like a certain virus. People are stressed to the max and snapping.

Me? I was disproportionately enraged that a package sent out west and received at the post office was, without notice, sent back to me because the recipient hadn't picked it up. The rules say 30 days if you notify them of a hold being needed. This was barely two weeks. Hopefully, it will come back to my doorstep, but that will not be the end of the issue. Asses will fry.

My mother worked in a first-class post office for twenty-five years. I know how bullshit flows downstream onto the front line workers who are not to be blamed. This is another wave of Trumpfuckery that should really have people completely freaked out. Raise hell, people.

So, no, I did not get up from my nest and murder anyone. I got up in the dark burned a bagel and drank some lemonade. Went back to bed and slept until 9:30. Gave the day over to a short burst of housekeeping,  some hasty color, then a long swim.
There is still danger in the air.

Friday, August 07, 2020


 We moved to Georgia from New York in '94. The boys were in elementary and middle school. In all those years, I've never gotten used to the bizarre shift in the school calendar. School ends in May and reconvenes in August. What savages! 

This was Charlie's last week of vacation. Virtual school starts next wednesday. At first this county was going to start school like nothing had changed. As the COVID numbers climbed unchecked, they switched to virtual classes. Now, knuckling under to political pressure, in-person classes will start later this month.

 I'm about to find out what I am really made of.

Thursday, August 06, 2020

Saturday, August 01, 2020


Both cloth and personal sensibilities.
Rewatching "Hamilton" last night was probably not a good choice.
Eliza's final monologue turned me inside out. 

 Today, my copirate is six.


 I've just finished taking pictures of the new sets of threads and need to rest my eyes.  Looking at Salem is always a relief from too m...

Play it again Sam.