Guess what I did last night?

The car (95 saturn with 156K miles) is sputtering, the heat is intense, I’m boiling potatoes for the pleasure of having potato salad and I have 9 yards of bias binding to iron and prepare. And the sleeve to make for the same quilt. No wonder I am procrastinating in the cool of the downstairs!

In this morning’s NY Times magazine, Wm Safire takes a vacation and his stand-ins pen a wonderful piece about what’s good about “good” email. Should be emailed to every person on line. Go – read – digest. Then send the link to a friend! Send it to an email list you’re on! Spread the peace. Calm the flames.

I’m still enjoying the vision of the world’s population lying under the stars, all toes pointing northeast.

The Perseid meteor shower will be viewable over the next few nights. I liked the description of how to look at this:

The best time to look for meteors is when Perseus is highest in the sky–between 2 a.m. and dawn. On August 12th, set your alarm for 2 o’clock in the morning. Go outside; lie down on a sleeping bag or a reclining lawn chair with your toes pointed northeast; and gaze upward. Soon you’ll see shooting stars racing along the Milky Way.

If a large number of people did this, surely it would improve the world.

A new landscape quilt….

From the Haystack Mountain Spring 2002 Newsletter

In this way the season and our own intentions have come together, and it is always a wonderful, surprising, and nearly miraculous moment to behold. Each phase of this process has its time and its place. Here and elsewhere this year, I think it�s not only winter that has been unsettled, but our own creative lives as well. Do we turn to art to heal ourselves and others? Can we make something that will make sense of events that don�t make sense? We know that the life of each emotion, each idea, each yearning, has its own rhythm, as does the natural world that has formed and shaped us. We have times of excitement, clarity, confusion, silence, and making, sometimes weeks and months apart, sometimes a split second apart. When the time is right, we slide open the gray doors to the studio, roll up our sleeves and get to work.