It’s a good day to finish this little Village Quilt. I’ll fold the top edge over for a dowel sleeve and trim the edges. I ended up putting a layer of cotton batting in this one.

Also a good day to put garden things away and bring more plants indoors. Pillows and rugs are out for sun and air. I wiped away the mold lining the plastic rails of one section of the deck (only eight sections to go). Vacuumed the downstairs and wiped crud off a few kitchen cupboards.

But here’s the thing about domestic chores: they satisfy the soul; they enhance the peace of one’s space; they make one feel virtuous. At a time of horrific news, it’s hard not to think of these jobs as anything but privileges.

Speaking of homes. The wasp’s nest that I found recently seemed, at first glance, completely dried out and empty. After several days of rain, this morning I picked up the now-soggy structure and saw the tip of a wasp head. By squeezing, not unlike releasing cloves from a baked head of garlic, a body emerged. There were many more.

I don’t think I did anything to speed their demise but I’m not really sure. It’s been just sitting outside since I picked it up, just as it would’ve sat on the median strip of grass had I not picked it up. Anyone know these things?

K and I watched The Burial last night. Great characters, based on a true story, one about the little guy taking on the big, fat, greedy, smug, rapacious corporate guy. Who doesn’t love a David and Goliath story?

We have sun today after a pounding rain yesterday. I performed my usual neighborly duty of pulling amassed leaves from the sewer grate at the bottom of our street’s hill. Water collecting there can and has reached our basement. By the time I got out there, the water was three-four inches deep. Talk about satisfying jobs!

One tug, two, twelve — fistfuls of wet leaves tossed to the median in great splats until one eddy formed, and then another, and then a great onrush of water into a now echoing, revealed sewer. The puddle cleared in about ten minutes.

Clip from The Burial is 2m long and please know I don’t expect people to necessarily view it. I like to save these things for my own sense of things. It’s a wonderful monologue though and speaks to so much of what is wrong with the right wing’s critiques of CRT, their book burning, etc.

Believe me, I know that “etc.” is doing a lot of work here.