A Contemplative Life

How empty are those who believe by hurting others, they become strong. This notion popped into my head this morning as the crescent moon rose along the southern end of our treeline. I woke at silly o'clock, wasn't sure why, but that moon was the reason, which brought to my mind the message above and below. How empty are those who believe by hurting others, they become strong. It applies to ANYONE who assumes such a pose. World leaders, drug dealers, teenagers who shoot other teenagers: This week in Hoopa , an eighteen-year-old was shot in the head by three teens ages nineteen, eighteen, and fifteen. How empty are those who believe by hurting others, they become strong. Meditating upon this, immediately my feeling was to pity one so deluded. Not to hate them, wish evil upon them, but such pity for the lack of love within them, the EMPTINESS. Such a vast void is their soul. How empty are those who believe by hurting others, they become strong. History proves time and again that d...

That writing a novel about miracles feels to defy the heartless and predatory natures currently wreaking havoc on our planet, which must be deterred as best we are able. I was going to write this post in the morning, Saturday morning. It's still Friday evening in California, Pacific Standard Time, lol. The time change occurs this weekend, we'll lose an hour. I've whinged about it already, far better things for me to blather on about tonight. Like how I wrote a pretty nice chapter this morning, hehehe! My novel about miracles is about a third-ish of the way there, or here, or somewhere. It's in a place virtually, existing on hard drives and flash drives, yet firmly wedged in my heart, giving me strength at a time when so much feels uncertain. Ironically, I ended today's chapter with a bit of a cliffhanger, HAH! My poor characters, put through various wringers with only 32K words accumulated. But as I said a post or three ago, writing about miracles means a fair amoun...

I was fooling myself last week, assuming I could have the rainbow quilt on the living room sofa, all ready for me to hand-quilt. Conveniently I forgot about securing the perimeter, that I prefer to do in our guest room, with said quilt spread out on the bed. That imperative fact somehow slipped my mind, or I blocked it. Either way, for the next few days that precious quilt will loiter in its own space, and eventually it will meander to where I am currently seated, typing this post. One reason I didn't make the quilt sandwich until today was that yesterday I attended a protest/rally to denounce the murders taking place in Minneapolis, as well to honor Keith Porter, killed by ICE in Northridge on New Year's Eve, 2025, and others harmed and slain by ICE in the last year. This protest was announced in our local news and on Reddit late on Saturday afternoon. Less than eighteen hours later over one thousand people stood in front of the Humboldt County Courthouse seeking justice, peac...

From yesterday afternoon once I attached the last two rows to the lower section. However, I am itching to write about this quilt, maybe because I've been silent concerning the surprise cozy. So despite having to sew together the first seven rows and the last six rows, here's a post about a saturated colour quilt that has captured my heart in a very intense manner, as though it's the last quilt I'll ever make. Hmm, that's a bit of an overstatement. I glance around, searching for Future Me. No sign of her, which is for the best. Because this post isn't about Past Me or that all-knowing aspect of myself, ahem. Nope, this is about a highly beloved bunch of rainbow squares that were arranged with barely a second thought nearly two weeks ago. Before Renee Good was murdered. Which I mention because her death certainly impacted how much I adore this quilt, yet not in a melancholy way. More in a how vibrant was her existence, how meaningful. How lively and warm and how c...

First seven rows are done. The next two are on the work table, awaiting one from the bottom section. So, heartspace . The word came up in conversation a couple of weeks ago when I was pouring out my heart to my beloved. The issue was minor in the grand scope, yet meaningful, in that what we discussed didn't tax my intellect, but severely strained my, well, heart. Certain things we can wrap our brains around, but that inner chest muscle is a different organ entirely. When I put the above fabrics on the design wall, it was merely to decorate the space, and that stack of fabrics was within easy reach; I cut them last year when making a banner in October for probably the second No Kings protest. When I cut fabric, I tend to CUT FABRIC, because it's a process. It's gathering various prints that make me happy, then placing that stack near the ironing board, where I'll press them, cut them, and repeat until it's time to do something else. It takes a few days, in that it r...

I came across the above Old Testament passage last night and was struck at how complete was the prophet's admonishments. Those widowed, orphaned, foreigners, and the needy are all mentioned, as well as a warning not to engage in evil schemes. I made a Bluesky post earlier, passing along these sentiments. I have sent these verses of Scripture to Mike Johnson, John Thune, and others. When coupled with Christ's words from Matthew 11:28, 29, and 30, how can anyone who claims God as their King justify cruelties to those most vulnerable?   If you are so compelled, pass along these verses to GOP politicians, as most claim to believe in God. As their sister in Christ, I too will share these words. 

My new banner, finished yesterday, hehehe. Measuring at fifty-five by forty-five inches, the hearts are attached by a running stitch. I'll add more hearts as the need arises. I just returned home from our local No Kings protest, the attendance of which was the largest I have seen yet! Arriving a few minutes before noon, the sidewalks around our county's courthouse were already crammed with people and amazing signs. Many of those present were under fifty, which was also marvelous to see. Families attended, folks in costumes, bands played, and our local media were spotted. While I wish we didn't have to assert our views in this manner, I am extremely grateful so many people showed their collective strength today. Walking a few blocks away from the festivities, which were still going strong at two p.m., I saw this sign someone had left behind. The sentiments are vital, and I snapped a picture. If you are wondering how a small town along California's North Coast feels about...

Twenty-eight-year-old Palestinian journalist and videographer Anas Al-Sharif was assassinated in an Israeli airstrike on Sunday. His team died as well , when their media tent was struck outside the Al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza City. The Israel Defense Forces (IDF) claimed he was a member of Hamas, but have offered no proof as validation, which has been strongly denied by Al Jazeera Arabic, his employer. They counter that Israel is smearing him to justify this murder. Today's devotion in God Calling begins like this: Remember no prayer goes unanswered. Remember that the moment a thing seems wrong to you, or a person's actions to be not what you think they should be, at that moment begins your responsibility to pray for those wrongs to be righted, or that person to be different. A few months ago another Gaza photojournalist, Fatima Hassouna , was killed in a manner similar when her family's home was struck by an Israeli missile. She was touted by the IDF as "a Hamas membe...

Sporting my Pride Flag, here I am after my walk. Waving that beautiful (if I say so myself) flag aloft always feels SO HEALING! Joining hundreds of others locally (and perhaps up to a million Americans nationwide), I marched along the recently opened Humboldt Bay Trail South late yesterday afternoon. The breeze was pleasant, scattered sunshine a plus, but best of all were those who gathered in the spirit of Congressman John Lewis to protest the inhumane administration leading our nation. Westernish view from the pedestrian bridge. It's important to denote these rallies because they are happening! It's vital to denounce a corrupt government and lame-ass congress who won't do their jobs. It's meaningful to continue making noise, stirring good trouble. My right knee wasn't thrilled, a slow pace due to a dodgy meniscus, but every step felt liberating, honorable, and correct.  A few of us were getting an early start. I wasn't certain if I would make it out there, but...

Latest Mandolin block completed last night. I'm feeling a mixed bag today; it's Maundy Thursday, the day when Jesus celebrated The Last Supper with his disciples and also washed their feet.  Colonel Nicole Malachowski's achievements as the first woman Thunderbirds pilot are being erased from official military websites . I wrote an email to family and friends denoting this, including the names and Washington D.C. phone numbers for Republican women senators. Here they are, if you're interested in letting them know your views. (All are currently on holiday until 28 April, but you can leave a message for each one.) Marsha Blackburn        202-224-3344 Tennessee Katie Boyd Britt             202-224-5744  Alabama Shelley Moore Capito    202-224-6472   West Virginia Susan Collins              ...

I attended our local April 5th Hands Off protest this afternoon, an AMAZING turnout on a beautifully sunny and warm day. My knee cooperated, especially as I kept moving, saying howdy to those I've met at previous rallies, also noting that I hoped to not run into them again. Their knowing smiles spoke the same. During this Lenten season, I've been able to maintain my PMA via prayer, reading, meditation on said texts, revising Brave the Skies for a Monday release and of course sewing. Lots of sewing on loads of projects, lol. I wonder if my copious collection of both EPP and Kawandi-style items makes up for scattered thoughts, probably. I've fashioned a few coasters with orphan English paper pieced blocks; they come together easily, actually more quickly than I thought they would. I like having timely finishes, makes me feel like I'm accomplishing something. Protesting relieves my heart, but for now, not much emerges from it other than personal peace. Small and large bloc...

I really LOVE how vibrant are these colours! I just finished my second flag. I don't know how many I'll make, but I sure enjoy creating them. I learned A LOT in sewing the first one, which I have belatedly titled, 'Stars and Swans-Reclaiming the Flag'. I learned that 1) Flags aren't hard to make, but unless you follow a well-written tutorial, best assume your efforts will be improv. 2) My flags are art as well as defiance tools. I want them to be pretty as well as functional. And 3) Just when I thought with Kawandi-inspired quilting that I was ready to give up my sewing machine, I was wrong. First off, here are the measurements, all pre-sewing: Union rectangle measured seventeen by twenty-four inches. Short stripes were three inches wide, thirty-five inches long. Long stripes were three inches wide and fifty-nine inches long. I sewed some test strips to made sure the stripes were the correct width, and I could have increased the stripe width to maybe three and an e...