Man is the only creature who refuses to be what he is.
Albert Camus
Symbols do not dirty,
but endure, embraced by moss and surrender.
Punctuated by memories larger than life, clear and sure as the sky.
Always there, guiding in ways large and small.
Standing the test of time.
The blue light special twenty-two summers hence.
The tall shadows.
The ripe fruits
And blending of textures that make up a life.
See beyond what lies ahead.
Forget that you have changed.
Measure only the weight of the present moment,
No matter the color,
For there is always love, light,
And lemony hues of sun and flowers to come.
Just there, more memories.
Some fuzzy.
Then clear.
Touch them before they are gone
And replaced by the barrow full
With lofty dreams
Of new places
Hanging like gifts
Buried like treasure
But always home.
In loving memory of sweet Patsy:
You made my tea with milk and warmed my heart.
Good morning! A quick little post for you today, as it is cleaning day, and I am slow to get started. I made this cute bag as an early Christmas present for my friend Sarah. It was pretty easy, and she really liked it – double happiness! Though, I must admit, I was at an advantage with the fabric because she bought it in Japan, as a gift for me, several years ago. The pattern, and a much more refined looking version of the bag can be found here. Sew away!
To give pleasure to a single heart by a single act is better than a thousand heads bowing in prayer.
Mahatma Gandhi
Happy 88th Birthday Grandma – I love you!
Hi there –
I hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving! Our was quite lovely, and, as per our usual, a bit unique. When I asked the hubster what he wanted to eat, he was rather loud (though not at all overbearing) in his enthusiasm for green chile. “A New Mexican Feast!” he said. Since I have very little power to refuse him (he’s so cute!) and the idea was a good one, I was in. Slow simmered green chile, perfect pinto beans, homemade tortillas, and, as pictured above, cinnamon-vanilla flan. Or, as our friend Jeff once called it, phlegm (it was not one of his kinder moments). Everything was delicious, especially the flan. That’s a ringing endorsement from our furry friend Milo, at least. Yes, I know he is on the table, licking our plates. It’s our house damn it, and we make the rules. Or should I say that the cats do? Maybe sometimes.
Anyhoo, lest you think I am totally against Thanksgiving fare, I am dry brining a chicken as I type, and will be serving it for dinner tonight, along with with stuffing, mushroom gravy, baked potatoes, and cranberry sauce. As they say about our fine home, “Oregon – things are different here.” Indeed, they are.
