and it's interesting. Today would be the exact kind of day i would like to NOT repeat much for the rest of my life. and saying that, i call myself to attention. it actually was a very OK day by standards of the World. by standards of the Majority on the Planet. in a certain way, all was just fine. Nothing went wrong. Well, a little….my firewood that's left from last year is burning very smokey. i have no idea why. maybe from a LOT of sand blown into it and then way more moisture than usual….??? Maybe i'm burning wood and sand???? But if that's the most i have to be uncomfortable about then…..
and, really, it's not worth even writing here. but the day was manipulated in a way that would not have been of my choosing. so here, at the end of it
this morning i saw, SAW, this design at the one of four corners of the rug that is near the Morning Chair. how amazing that i never was noticing this image here before??????????????? and i got up and looked at all the four corners, where the repeating pattern meets and they are all different.
But. look at this one. I really like it.
and a scribble on the Stenographer's Pad. a female figure floating, dreaming, floating. How many fiber figures i made of this. maybe one in Cloth?
and this last night. December, the Twelfth Month, the thirtyith day……….Tomorrow. is, IS?, the significance of the 31st day of the twelfth month REAL? or, maybe the question is, is it Real Enough?, as Real as anything, really…………..???
EDIT POST:
and i go over to Michelle of NYC and find John Prine and Iris DeMint singing
Inspite of Ourselves
How many times did i sing that to myself, thinking that THIS WAS THE TIME???????????????
but it wasn't.
and just now, after listening to them, i hear a sound and ….YUP. ONE MORE MOUSE in the Tin Cat!. i had pulled down the "company" down comforter from that top shelf of the bathroom closet thingy and yup. Hole chewed. in the comforter, in the ceiling stuff. Mice. and cat Tazmeena is sitting on the futon couch, all comfey. not caring.
SO. in Spite of Ourselves….all of Ourselves we'll end up sittin on a rainbow.
windthread 
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