spent a chunk of time last eve looking for pics in the totally unorganized Picasa so i could use them as prompts to myself to tell myself the story of the last days in a way that maybe made sense of some sort, to understand maybe what this feeling of Drift is and as i did that the feeling of Drift drifted away but then Typepad was down again and so i just went outside to see what the stars were doing and then to sleep.
and i want to put here, right now, a Mary Oliver that Cynthia gave over at Patricia's house, followingthread.wordpress.com so here it is and not how it should appear because i don't know how to make the spacing correctly so it will just flow:
Mindful Mary Oliver
Everyday i see or hear something that more or less kills me with delight, that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light. It was what i was born for…to look, to listen, to lose myself inside this soft world…to instruct myself over and over in joy, and acclamation. Nor am i talking about the exceptional, the fearful, the dreadful, the very extravegant….but the ordinary, the common, the very drab. The daily presentations, oh, good scholar, I say to myself, how can you help but grow wise with such teachings as these….the untrimmable light of the world, the ocean's shine, the prayers that are made out of grasses?
October 18, 2009 San Diego, California. Waiting Wanting to just go
walking can help Labor progress. We went to the zoo. SanDiego zoo is a big zoo. we walked all over it
that bubblegum mother and HER daughter
we went to the hospital but they sent us back home.
we went to the park, walked some more, mostly lost in our own thoughts
fast forward to a few days ago when he asks: "Why do you love to live in the Desert, Old Nana?" (my daughter is New Nana) i say because it's beautiful to me. he asks: "Why do you want to live in the middle of nowhere, Old Nana?" i don't know what to answer him. so i say, well, where else would i live and he says "by my house". I don't know what to say.
so the days will now go along and the edges of the mind pictures will soften, even the pictures will fade a little. But he is almost 5 now and i most likely will be asked those questions again. And i think how i am always tied/tethered by love. it's how it feels to me.
made a couple faces
went through and through the baskets and finally found the right scrap. washed and dried it. i think this next cloth will be about the
eye of the beholder.
OR, maybe
the middle of nowhere
This is it, for today.
windthread 
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