Daily Notes- February 19

From the Magic Cardboard Box--  things unfinished by Beverly.  This quilt, or one like it, is also in the Smithsonian book I found in the box.  Perhaps the cloth is Bev's and I made this?  But I have no memory of it.  That Time for me was not a good Time.   Adrift.  It was the Time between the library job and the greenhouse. And I was deep into sorrow and loss. Of friends and of my father.  Certainly, some of this cloth is Bev's. I think the center is too dark but those Times were dark.

I have another loaf of orange cranberry bread in the oven.  I hope this loaf rises. (it did!)  I had fresh orange zest from two Cara Cara oranges and I soaked Craisins to use in place of raw cranberries.  While mixing, I looked up and the clock was 11:11-- I see it more often that is probable so I walked over to the jar and pulled a word--- transform ---again.  Sigh.  I need to make changes that will be hard.  It seems too late at 72 to change myself yet again.  There have been so many editions of me.

It's cold.  The shear pins of the snowblower are broken.  G is trying to fix it--his frustration with his memory is making things even more difficult.  The dog is having trouble seeing the floor--or the floor is shining in his eyes--it's hard to tell. Hard to get him to his food dish.  I rubbed the Arnicare gel into my knee yesterday afternoon and the pain is gone or not as noticeable.  That is good.  Something is good.

I have one book left to read "The Dinner Party".

The news on MSNBC is disturbing.  I think I am assuming a Knight on a White Horse will ride in and save us all.  But that only happens in Fairy Tales and the Movies. I know what I wish would happen but if I say it out loud  or write it down here, I would be arrested. I had thought the Justice Department worked on its own not under the President's thumb.  We'll see.  We need a Hero.