Alice Quilt

I hate missing a day at work, because it throws me behind. Spent the morning getting rid of garbage and cleaning the kitchen from the weekend events. Discussed scheduling. Put the big screen up in the theater. Unplugged a toilet. Then lunch, and after lunch remembered we needed to hang the fabric show in the small gallery upstairs. Kate's residency. An Alice In Wonderland quilt, a lovely thing, done by eighth graders working with her for a couple of weeks, and a dozen small pieces of fabric art done individually by the same core group. Reception is tomorrow and Sharee came over to see the show (to see if we'd hung the show) and we had just started, but when she left, an hour later, it was all installed and we were making the labels. You guys, she said, beat anything I've ever seen. Kate had the kids sew on pop-tabs, as hanging attachments, and we hung them on small brads, mostly empirically as they were all irregular, and it looks good, a little funky, but cool. First time these twelve kids have ever hung in a museum. I suppose the reception will be milk and cookies. A large winter storm looming for Sunday night, big snow, and I need a plan, a two-part plan actually. I haven't driven in since before the trip, so I need some supplies here, to weather the brunt; and also a set of supplies at the museum, in case I need to crash there for a couple of days. The museum is easy, it's heated, there's hot and cold running water, a microwave, a computer I could write on, the library is two blocks away, and Kroger is across the street. Sleeping on a carpeted floor, with a pillow and a couple of blankets, is way ahead of many places I've slept. Navigating the edge, I set some simple goals: avoid frostbite, watch your footing. The dog was dancing a weird dervish, the last pup was dead and frozen solid under the house. She seemed to be happy that she was spared involvement. She was certainly a lousy mother. She's young, I don't fault her that, but killing your kids seems extreme. I shovel out the carcass and throw it downwind. Fuck a bunch of ceremony. Worms, dear Percy. Decide to make a kale soup and enough cheese grits to feed an army. Make a list. This is the way the world goes, one step at a time. Slightly altered, but nothing to take your attention. A good set of waves, or nothing, all afternoon. Maybe some birds singing along the riverbank. Fill in the blanks. A life worth living. Two daughters, after all. I lost the thread, I was thinking about comparing one thing to another, but it wasn't working out, I kept ending up with negative numbers. Pure thinking is hard, everything gets in the way. I dissected an oak gall tonight, looking for something I'd not seen before. I don't know that much about oak galls, and I'm not that good at dissection, but some things appear obvious. Check the number of teeth in the lower jaw-bone. I better go. I have to generate a couple of different lists. I'm sure I can do this.