Be melting snow.
Wash yourself of yourself.
Rumi

Frozen rain ponged the roof last night, waking K and me, and leaving steps and walkways coated with ice this morning.

Boys are back at school.  The year’s first journal quilt is done.  I am challenged by my dog’s absolute and abject terror of the camera.

He came from Puerto Rico, where he was not a street dog, but had been abandoned and left to starve, and endured who knows what else.  Just the sound of the lens cap popping off sends him cowering and shaking into a corner.  Last night a camera flash on the TV had him burying his head behind my back on the couch.   This slows the blog process and may not be something that beef treats can change.  Today I will hear Rumi’s words as an invitation to accept this and him as it is — not to wish for something else.

Today I shall: photo Journal Quilt; begin assembling white fabrics for a next big project that will be a total departure from my usual choice of super-saturated colors; make up a bag of scraps to give away; hem D’s jeans; pack up the bottle brush trees.