What God Said on the Radio Today

I tossed kindling on the coals and they lit, fed the dogs and let them out and in again ( it's 40 degrees and raining), poured my coffee with cream and composed a Haiku on Olive, my new-old typewriter. The radio was on, Morning Edition from far away-- the NPR studios- and from nearby. Amanda is up the hill at KHNS in the Chilkat Center, reading the school lunch menu and the ferry schedule, waiting for the sun to rise, too.

So I type:

The California Fires

Sunday's Thought (from the funny pages)

“Aren't the clouds beautiful? They look like big balls of cotton... I could just lie here all day, and watch them drift by... If you use your imagination, you can see lots of things in the cloud formations... What do you think you see, Linus?"

"Well, those clouds up there look like the map of the British Honduras on the Caribbean... That cloud up there looks a little like the profile of Thomas Eakins, the famous painter and sculptor... And that group of clouds over there gives me the impression of the stoning of Stephen... I can see the apostle Paul standing there to one side..."

Sunday's Thought

"Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice. Justice at its best is love correcting everything that stands against love."-- Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (From the back of St. Michael & All Angels All Saints Sunday leaflet.)

A Response to the Massacre in Pittsburgh

I'm just sick about the massacre of innocent people, grandmothers and great grandmothers, no less, in a Pittsburgh synagogue because they were Jewish or were police officers defending them during worship services. I can't even believe I just typed "because they were Jewish." Oh, my heart hurts.  Last week, I wrote about the courage of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood children's TV show, and yesterday I learned the Tree of Life Synagogue is in Fred Roger's real neighborhood.

Out and About

My neighbor Betty has moved to Haines Assisted Living, and when I visit her there, she asks "What's the news on Mud Bay Road today?" Yesterday I told her a bear was on my daughter's deck next door at 7:00 am. "Black bear?"  no, a brownie,  I said and it was big (of course any bear on the deck at dawn is huge), and then I tell her it  also tore a branch off my big mountain ash tree, the one right next to the window seat, but didn't seem to like the red berries. I said I would put a radio on the porch at night, turned low, and keep the light on all night too.

Moose and Muppets

My artist friend Tresham was speaking through his magical puppets in a sing-song voice, one was a mermaid and one was a wild witchy woman named Esmeralda, or maybe she was Margarita? I did hear him say he gives them all a name like that. He was demonstrating a bit of what he will be up to now that he is no longer on the borough assembly (his term was up and he did not run again) and has turned 75. The good news, he said, is now he doesn't have to be an adult anymore. He was wearing a maroon velvet and brocade jacket that fell to his knees and a necklace of sea lion teeth.



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