the second day of 102. Not unusual for August, here or in New Mex. but still, 102. A long day for Emrie and i. We spent the morning walking and sitting. collecting, arranging and naming. She collects things up from the ground as we walk. Twigs stones and rocks leaves. Today a feather. We both carry them. When we stop to sit, she arranges them and looks closely saying words she knows for them, lately being about size differences. There are Mama sticks and baby sticks. Leaves are nice and sharp and green and brown. spots. Today we added smooth and rough. pointed and dull. She loves words now. collects words. Did this till she asked for milk which meant she was willing to try a nap. felt tired. She used to nap for two hours…but lately, not at all or just an hour. Today just a blessed hour of silence and up again with hours to go till MomMom came back. We filled our water things and set out to B. There we ripped toad egg cloth and used it to tie the many bells in the small grove of trees where the hammock is, a couple on the cloth line right over the hammock and then we got on and layed back at opposite ends. Rocked and talked. she rang the bells. We talk about trees, their branches, how they move, about all the leaves, the Sun. The birds that ride the thermals overhead and the ones in the near trees that we can only hear, repeating their sounds. We feel the quiet wind that sometimes is wind, sometimes just breeze and imitate the movement with our hands and arms, blow softly with our own breath.
And then the buttons. All the last part of the day we looked at the buttons. Talked about the buttons. Arranged the buttons. Put buttons in the jar and took them out. Repeat. We never ran out of things to do and say about the buttons. When Momma came, we had come back from there for more water. Julian had gotten home from school. We turned the mist sprinkler on. Alyssia brought mexican food from a new place. It's food friday. Somewhere in there, i told Alyssia that that button jar was the only thing maybe that i would ask her to always keep. That i wanted her to tell Emrie to always keep, that i wanted Emrie to tell some other to always keep. I want to think of the buttons always there in the jar. Some taken out sometimes for use. But when that use is over, the threads clipped and the buttons put back . Buttons. From a time when buttons had meaning. From when clothing was made with care and pride. I thought of how Dana makes her table. Like that. French seams. Darts and gathers. Tailored. and then, the buttons.
windthread 
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