The planes of now and later

Warm Hearted quilt in its full glory.

Tomorrow I'm heading out for a few days with family in the SF Bay Area. My suitcase is mostly packed, a few things with those chickens to accomplish, like cleaning out the coop today, lol. From my bedroom I could hear one of them making a racket, so I trekked outside to find Ruthie in a grumpy mood, probably because Owl was in Box #6. Ruthie, at times a broody hen, croaks the loudest, not a cluck exactly, more like the caw of an angry crow. I hope she behaves while I'm away and doesn't cause my husband too much fuss.

I'm SO GLAD I denoted what I planned at the top of the quilt. An upside-down view of it.

Two days ago I had big ambitions for my Warm Hearted quilt, since the back was finished. Big because on Thursday I'm leaving; what did I think I was going to accomplish in three days amid preparing for a trip, chickens to look after, etc, etc, etc. This morning I put the EPP part of this project on my work table while the back went to the design wall. I'll return next week, hoping I can do more with it than how it sits right now, in two pieces with a few questions to how I'll incorporate the top and bottom edges of those gorgeous hearts into a straight line.

I'm also pondering other notions, most of those better left unsaid in this at times unstable world. I'm hopeful, but realistic. Optimistic yet uncertain. I have one foot on this corporeal planet, the other in a realm beyond the veil. I want to be true to my beliefs, but malleable to possible change. Blah, blah, blah....

This is one of those projects that I would LOVE to keep, but even better is giving it away.

I did some hand sewing last night, and my right shoulder wasn't so sure about it. Was I being rash in yesterday's post to announce my shoulder is BETTER? Perhaps. Never in my life have I felt so keenly the sense of I have no idea what happens next. Some of it is being sixty, where one's health veers from great to meh all in the space of hours. Another is the current world political climate, where the rule of law is ignored and unkindness reigns and humanity seems more concerned about the device in their hand than the neighbor in front of them. I'm not innocent, but I try to be mindful. And in being mindful, the atrocities perpetrated EVERYWHERE seem to shine as bright as the sun.

What kind of humans are we? Are we like Ruthie Chicken, wholly unaware of anyone but ourselves? Ruthie gets a pass because she's a hen and doesn't have the capacity to care that Owl got into Box #6 first. And obviously Ruthie doesn't want to compromise, either by nesting on the shelf she's standing on, or scooting her little chicken butt into another box. Camilla is in #1, lol, but that leaves #'s 2-5 open, or they were when I walked away. I feel like those in charge of MANY NATIONS are like Ruthie, barking they want this and they want it NOW! You can bark all you want, but as my dad used to say, cry in one hand and want in the other and see which gets filled the fastest.

Ruthie; squawk, squawk, squawk!

Except.... Those leaders seem to get exactly what they want; power, attention, money. Cruelty abounds in marked or subtle manners. Why haven't we learned a single freaking lesson from our bloody, abysmal past?

Yet (YET!), there are moments of compassion. Slivers of humility. Stragglers of the human race who seek the betterment of their neighbor. Maybe that's how we're even still here on this cross little rock. As a Christian, I know God's in charge, but if I didn't have faith, I guess that's how I'd see it. That those tiny slices of good people somehow tip the balance in what is otherwise a foul, greedy world. Which sounds pretty damn pathetic, but here it is, the twenty-seventh of May 2026 and we're still doing our little chicken dances. Owl quiet in her box, Camilla too, while the Ruthies shout and shout and shout. Don't they get tired of being so selfish and mad? Don't they long for a cool head and a warm heart with which to love their neighbor? How can people be so self-absorbed and ignorant to the better angels of their natures?

For I do believe, despite my misgivings, that ultimately people are good. We must be, because I also believe we're made in the image of God, and God is love, so.....

I can hear those without faith saying, "Well, if God is so damn loving why have there been so many conflicts, so much racism, so much hatred geared toward women, minorities, LGBTQ+, or anyone that just doesn't fit in their box of what's right?" My simple answer is God is loving while humans are imperfect. That Christ came for all while humans have to interject their idea of who constitutes all. That the Spirit lives in every heart, but some hearts are so damaged, the Spirit falls away. Whichever way it is, for thousands or millions of years life on this planet has been a battle between good and evil, selfless and selfish, and one of these days it's going to end.

I remember cutting the fabrics, basting the shapes, stitching them together; initially I called this my Mr. Carter quilt as it was underway when Jimmy Carter died. We desperately need more Jimmy Carters in charge, might I say.

But I'm tired of the bitterness, the need to lash out, the desire for self to best love. I'm also tired because I woke at 3.45 a.m., which means it's gonna be a LONG day. I need some more caffeine. Metamucil time is around the corner. I should go see if Ruthie ever got herself settled, or did she give up. While I'm alive and in my relatively right mind, I can't help but pay attention, even if I wish to look away. My heart breaks for all the misery, so much misery. I pray for peace, and wonder if I'm being listened to, or just being silly. I want everyone to JUST GET ALONG; am I the minority for such childlike wishes? Does the majority not of only Americans but humans not truly give a shit about those around them?

My snap of Owl was blurry, and this of Camilla isn't perfect, yet Camilla was being her chill chicken self while Ruthie kept barking and barking....

Not sure why this post emerged, maybe it's Ruthie's fault. Maybe I've had it in my heart to say all this, but not the time to do so. Maybe getting up stupid early this morning permits this entry. Whatever it is, here it is. Not a mantra or manifesto, just wondering why some chickens get their panties in a bunch if life doesn't go their way. Why some chickens HAVE TO HAVE their special nesting box. Owl didn't gripe when Gigi was hogging Box #6; Owl merely stepped into a different box, laid her egg, and moved on with her life. Time for me to move on with my life too. Wishing you all a good rest of the week, peace, love, and joy. Talk to you later....