windthread

it's complex,  this thought.  Can be many things or nothing or whatever is thought about it by Anyone.  All would be true, in their way.  So,  i just look at the thoughts.  Consider them.  For what they mean to me.  Not a lot of point in putting too many of the considerings here because it might very well change in the next days,  the thoughts about what is left of us,  our individual selves,  i think is nothing.  A generation away,  it is dissolved.  But wait…then,  there may be residue,  loving or not that remains with the beings who follow ,  taken in and transmuted into their own lifetime days,  becoming Their lives,  how they live.  ???  Maybe.  Am thinking that those are things i can't know and so aren't of use to spend a lot of time entertaining .  So,  then,  What? 

and what i am seeing is

trees.  Plant people.  who so care fully carry forward their particular gifts to the planet.  Can be  "counted on".   Runner roots,  tubers,  seed,  pollen.   Generation after generation, they Give.   

so here my thoughts have settled today.   My mark might be what i Plant tomorrow.  The next day.  The caring for it as it takes hold.   To be there,  for any being who might live here or pass through.  The native plants,  bushes and trees.  "My" mark only in the planting.  Theirs as they might continue.   just thoughts.

This Cloth is not how cloths are "supposed to be".  And i need it to be as is and not as it might be "supposed to be".  It appeared this way from the beginning,  from when i took the scraps from the baskets and put them together with no known imagining,  how they "fell".  But how they fell is perfect to me and then there was the surprise appearance of Cathy Bricker in a comment,  who knew me from the Art Doll days,  who knows my fiber figures,  causing me to go back,  remembering what they were,  how they were.  

her form is stitched only minimally,  enough to create her "form"…body….and i won't stitch it down more.  Needs to be exactly this way.  Stitching down would take away the life.  She is "secure" as this much….maybe how we all are,  secured just enough?

Lots of thoughts.  and i'm sick.  Julian had a snotty nose all week but that's it…then the day before yesterday Emrie had a runny nose,  but that's it,  and out of the blue  she realized how to play the harmonica and wanted to play her notes and then wanted me to play some and back and forth and it didn't occur to me,  but she was so HAPPY that even if it would have,  i probably would have played anyway and I woke this morning with aching sinuses,  stuffed nose,  scratchy throat.  So am glad to have all the above thoughts to Hold me till it goes away.  Next week there will be SUN.  0% chance of Rain.

it's been a marathon week.  Me and Emrie.  Every day.  All day.  We figured it out,  how to make it really Ok, sometimes Great,  but always really ok.  As of tomorrow,  Alyssia will be MOVED. DONE.  We can go back to the usual,  not a marathon.  Yay.

nap time.  She speaks.  Makes  herSelf  known.

i love these.  Here they are again,  with the Rain,  as they were last year.  Everywhere,  in profusion up here at Campsite C.  and not at B or further down.  Just this top of this Hill.  Ecosystems.

i see these out the kitchen window as i stand at the sink.   Amidst so much Clover this year.  I don't remember Clover last year?   See how they have long stems that then leaf like a lily pad  and then up through that leaf pad,  the stem continues and there will be one more leaf, smaller,  to accompany the blossoms.   There is no reason i can imagine for this extravagance of form except Joy.  Except Wonder.  It would not be necessary i think.  But it IS.  There are so Many.   Another of the truly emblematic WONDERS,  like Giraffes,  testimony to some Unfathomable Intelligence that set this Planet into motion.

my kids used to sometimes ask  me about God.  What i thought.  and what i ended up being able to offer was that i don't know.  I didn't believe in a God like their grandma talked about,  my mother.  But what kept me wondering was things like the incredible  complexity of life in the Oceans.  All the myriad fish and corals,  the  vast array of insects and butterflies,  their COLORS and designs.  All the colors and designs would not be necessary, really,  for things to live,  to be attractive as food.  A brown butterfly could go to a plain white flower.  Good enough.  

and that line of thinking remains true for me.  It's extravagance.    Way BEYOND extravagance.  SomeThing LOVES amazement and wonder.  I will never know.  But even in these plants that are Everywhere now,  and only in the spring.  It's evident.  Proof of Something.  Like JOY.

thinking.   As we go.   Our "needs".  What ARE they?  really.  In the big picture,  nothing.  But we ARE someThing.  and the someThing that we are is the mark we leave.  The imprint from what we are,  who we are,  HOW we are.  There is a Mark from that.  it is imprinted by the living of it in those we live With.  Humanity.  One by one.   and on the Earth.

y

you can see here the batteries that are exchanged every two days.  My electricity.  Which doesn't power any lights or ordinary things  but just the ignitions for the propane…heat and cooking.   Hot water when i think i need it which is when i want to wash my hair.  Minimal.

behind them,  the continuing  "loaves and fishes"  bags of stuff she Alyssia  brings from her Chico home to the new one here,  or,  HER storage unit.  Her mother,  Jenny,  my daughter,  refers to her as a hoarder.  She takes exception.  For her it is valuable and important stuff.  She should be done with it this week.  But as you see,  the SUV seemed full.  Tay took exception.  She LOVES Alyssia's vehicle which is full of crumbs of all kinds.  Worth whatever it takes.  A having left the hatch open,  imagining it to be FULL.

took a lot of STERN demands.  

there's an urge to say things that are really more dramatic than true.  But, eeeeeee

you might remember my first foray.  Well,  this time i went to the different one on Lincoln Ave.  Same general area tho…the central business district.   Walked in with an arm load of my jacket,  the duvet,  sheets.  Up and down the rows of machines and all the ones not in use had out of order post its.   Down toward the far end was a maybe and next to it was a woman using a jack knife on the coin slot next to it.  Which i took note of, but was thinking, well, ok,  no out of order sign on this one and as i reached in my pocket for the quarters,  she turned,  tho still bent at her task,  put her hand up and said NO!  NOT WORK!  So i just turned around and left.  Off to the last laundromat i know of over on Meyers.  Shown Above.  It was painted a nice green color some years ago.   Probably half of the machines,  tho quite a few were new,  were out of order.  And it was busy.  Like bizzy.  and a variety of kinds of people,  more so than the other two.  I'm learning the ropes.  You walk around,  slow,  and look at the machines that are running,  see how many minutes there are left.  Almost always their "person" is standing there,  near by,  waiting and you ask…it's good?  And if the answer is affirmative,  you stand near,  laundry ready and when they take theirs out, you put yours in.  Today the woman had 4 and 7 minutes but also told me that the guy on the other side was giving her his dryer and it was a hot one so to watch and i could follow her there.  People are very helpful this way.  

And as it has been,  there is much conversation about the Fire.  Many customers are displaced persons.  I listened to two nearby conversations,  long,  and had begun with just a neutral exchange,  but rolled into the Fire.  People are not done retelling.  They tell it.  over and over.   The woman who i followed  went to a folding table just near and a guy eating gumdrops was there and that's one of the conversations i heard in it's entirety.  She hadn't gone back once.  Not once up that road to Paradise.  She says she never will.  Ever.  She's done.  They are living in an RV park.  Rented RV.  They don't know what's next.  Haven't gotten that far.  Right now she's just doing laundry.  There was a guy in the parking lot next to me,  his truck door open as he talked on the phone about trying to find someplace to go.  There's no place to go.  He can't live in the city,  but there's no place to go.  He went on and on about what all he's looked into.   Two old people sat together on a bumper in parking lot…were not together,  but passing time in a friendly way, talking about having been displaced too.  They smiled a lot and i felt good from their vibes.  A young woman with two little kids,  maybe 3 and 4 finished folding her stuff,  packing it up and went by to the street with it, the curb and one of the B Line buses pulled up,  she went back in coming out with a child car seat and loaded them all in the bus. I think she just lives in the city.  Not a Fire person.  

So it got done.  My clothes are clean.  Tonight i will have a fragrant duvet cover,  my quilt.    Alyssia got an apartment sized combo washer and dryer for  the new place on Craigs List.  Once she's settled,  it's thought that i can do small loads there.  Maybe.

Teju  Cole

all the final stitching and at one point,  hold up….the Morning window is just to the left of this table where i work,  and in the light of the Window,  the Cloth Lit UP…..I would hope that it might be hung in a window?  

unknown.  but perceived.   quiet.   a watching.  sensing.   the need to not know and just wait.