I sat down in the grass and the sun was shining on me, but in a pleasant way. The breeze/wind blew away the traces of hotness and left me with the wonderful play of cool and warm: this is fall.
I read a book, enjoyed the book. Grass pressed into my arms, my neck, my legs, and stained the knee of my pants. I didn’t want to be anywhere but outside, and when I am given the choice between walking and taking the bus, I walk, long and refreshing.
The needle goes in and out of two layers of thick fabric and thin cotton in-between. Tie. Poke through. Grope underneath. Tie. Cut. This is quilting the easy, simple way. This is when the guys can participate to in tying the yarn and following the square patterns. Every time I have done this in my life (if has been many, many times) the quilt is being given away–Africa, battered women, I don’t know where else it goes. Hopefully to someplace that needs warmth.
I call my sister and explain how my knowledge of high fantasy actually came in useful for my writing fiction class because not many others in the class know much about the conventions of high fantasy. She gets bored of my voice and puts someone else on the phone–I know who he is and I am suddenly talking to the guy my sister is dating. It is friendly, not at all awkward, until I mention a guy on the bus staring into my eyes and he says back, “You have beautiful eyes.” I have only seen this guy for a few very brief moments. He hasn’t really seen my eyes. But he is dating my identical twin, so I suppose he has seen my eyes.
Poetry (Williams, Pound), Spanish, Isaiah, sitcoms, long drives with parents too and from school. Browsing the library (how wonderful!).
Oh, and it is Talk Like a Pirate Day. Arrrr! (I can’t do that in the academic world. People would think I’m insane.) And I read a story today from the point of view of an insane person.
This was my day, in its best.