Time to rake. I love raking. At first, anyway.

Yesterday, I stood on a stool and sorted through two big bins of fabric on the wall of shelving in the studio. Made piles for throwaway, I Spy Quilts, baby quilts, upholstery fabric, teeny village geometrics. Some I folded and put back, but in an upright crate this time so that I’ll be able to see what I have at a glance. I was literally flinging fabric in every direction. It will get decidedly more messy down there before it gets tidier, but the sense of progress and movement is heartening.

ADD / Short Person Organizing Tip: If you can’t see it, it doesn’t exist. Neat sliding bins at head level, therefore, might as well be portals to black holes.

Attended a few sessions of the Slave Dwelling Project’s Annual Conference. This week, I’ll jot a few tidbits down for my benefit. For our benefit. But for now, this idea: dispense with the term “Jim Crow.” Jim Crow calls to mind an anodyne minstrel goofing it up for yucks instead of Black bodies hanging from trees and the firebombing of Black neighborhoods. Bryan Stevenson, of the Equal Justice Initiative and the lynching memorial in Montgomery, suggests instead: The Reign of Terror.

K and I went to the farm store in Needham again, even though after the last visit’s shocking tally I swore never to again. He bought bags of apples for his famous crisp. I cannot wait! I picked up some bread, cheese, avocado and peppers. The raspberries cost about 70 cents each. I kid you not!

@@@ Much later.

More flinging and folding and now my feet hurt and I am wiped. Discouraged? I don’t think so.

The good news (is it?) : I found a Costco-produce-sized box one third full of nearly finished quilts or half done quilts or prized components. There were things I really, really liked (like the weavings from Jude’s cloth weaving classes and two vertical compositions). There were also pieces I haven’t the faintest recollection of making.

Okay see ya bye!