I am up before the dawn.  I hear the transition from crickets to cicadas, and now silence, except for the birds at the feeder.  I realize suddenly why the cicadas are quiet.  After about forty five minutes of trying to forget a dream that for once did not leave me crying, but definitely woke me for good, I get up and look outside.  The day is so humid that there is a fine mist in the air.  It isn’t rain, it is something only people in a truly humid clime can fathom.  The air is wet.  As wet as  a blanket and the air is hot.  And everything feels hot and wet.  Cat hair and dog hair adhere to absolutely every surface including your nose, your lips, your feet.

I am corresponding with a local woman who sells fiber at craft fairs in the Northeast.  She lives a mile or so from my house.  I bought some gorgeous banana soy wool from her and now I need something to ply my green yarn with.  It was the most beautiful shining bat of fiber I have ever seen.  A stark contrast to my rough white Navajo Sheep yarn that is so thick with lanolin that my hands get greasy.

Despite the heat I am drinking hot coffee and munching on my homemade zucchini bread.  The dog, is sitting right next to me hoping for a few bites too.  I tell him I will bite his butt and he turns his backside to me looking back at me and smiling his dog smile.  I give him a piece of the bread.  I have been known to bite his jiggly backside and run around chasing him with my pinchers out (the same ones that got me the name cheekzilla at school, and from my favorite cousin)  I am gonna pinch your butt, said of course in a crazy madhouse voice, my silly voice.

I have an idea for some gift for my daughter a ghost (boo) keychain doll.  I have an idea for a doll that looks like a seated buddha with a pearl in its hara.  I should embroider a lotus on it’s forehead, one pointed awareness right smack between the eyes.  I want to sew before I head to the farmers market.  Fresh cheese and veggies and fruit for a vegetarian meal I am serving to my two gays, and my friend Michelle.

I realize I cannot even hear the hum of cars on the highway.  It is a quiet morning.


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