blurred borders

Thank Jude for reminding me that the work of my hands can have a point, a purpose beyond busywork or something to soothe the eye.

Mabon is upon us and yet Summer waddles on here reminding me every day of the precariousness of life on this Big Blue Marble. Feels like August in the daytime and late September after dark. Confusing.
Unsettling.
 Like having a foot in each world.

















The morning report from Brisco Airfield.

and just a few minutes later.....

Post psychedelia

This image is to remind me that I'll be happy after the chaos of remodeling the kitchen has passed and we haven't even started yet. I did catch a rat in one of those old-fashioned traps last night. I am certain Death was instantaneous. The kitchen upheaval is their fault and they will pay.

Be assured. This is not TV style remodeling. It's gonna be 'rip out the old and live with the mess for months' stuff. As we can manage.

Feeling hungover this morning for no real reason, unless red potato salad made with Bermuda onions has such properties.
Overnight temps in the 60s out of the blue contributed to deep sleep with bottomless dreams. I woke up not sure of the year for a long string of heartbeats. Not lost, but poised to choose.
Contributing to this time traveler feeling- scanning new photos from Mom's stash.
I love the way some Polaroids eat themselves while others just spin away to mist. 1971.

the midweek peach

First, we do a quick selfie to check in with Mom and Dad, letting them know I've retrieved Charlie from after school care.

Then we decide what the adventure for the rest of the afternoon will be. Today's first stop, the car wash. Endlessly entertaining for a five-year-old to have the car swallowed into the swishing belly of the sudsy beast complete with a light show and our own rock and roll.

The whole back seat of my car is awash with various forms of entertainment. A small basket overflowing with little toys, books, compass, magic wand. Over the summer I stocked it with a couple of spare blank notebooks and a set of markers which he ignored.

The first thing he did after clicking his own seatbelt (another first! "I got this, Nana.") was open up the notebook and break out the markers for the first time. I asked what he was writing. "I like the numbers the best, but there's an A." Not bad for writing in a moving car.

Once finally home, I was warmly received and righteously worn out. A great day.

The Night Garden

Nothing left but the dirty work. Truing, backing, picking cat hair and lint.

Some decent photographs. Maybe a little peddling somewhere.

Bringing this one to life, to reality, was a challenge.

It should finish out at 35"x22". I don't have anything suitable that's large enough for the backing so I'll do some scrounging this weekend.

Then, the river basket and the toolbox have to go in the closet for a bit while I get this story off the runway. Time to get the other side of my brain back in the game.

Sweetie

For a little while, she was on the front stoop watching our resident red shouldered hawk working the chipmunks.

She just rushed in here to take over my lap - stitching be damned. Lately, she's been anxious. Coyotes in the street before dawn. Me too.