August 4, 2014

Woke to dreams which I recognize as the longing for travel.

Community meal last night, featuring community dread of totally voluntary tasks looming ahead. What is it that we really want? I know what I really want, and other things, however pleasant on their own, are a distraction or an irritation. Fate is passive-aggressive, offering what it knows is not required and then recoiling with a hurt expression when the gift is not fully appreciated.

Copper and brazen sky. Much rain was promised, and some fell to the south, but none fell here.

In the lines I just typed there were 19 errors that I had to go back and edit, 19 typos. I say there is a ghost in the machine.

Worked some at the All Souls Crafts Fair yesterday. Pleasant just to sit on the shady porch. I bought an iron butterfly to hover over my garden. Zach and Karen brought their baby to church.  In Thomas’ sermon, he said that God needs us to fight him, as Jacob did. If so, this is my salvation.