When the Bradford pears color their leaves and let them go I always find a few that look like this. To me, they show a sweet resemblance to the flames or whatever they are which surround the Virgin of Guadalupe.
More like a folk-art version, perhaps. Still. I love them, those painted leaves of green and gold and when I find them, I feel as if I've been given a small gift.
What a day. I tried to weed but I have never in my life been as swarmed with mosquitoes. December 14th and the mosquitoes are so bad I can't be outside in my garden. Even after I sprayed myself, they bit through my clothes and tormented my ears and face. Oh yeah, global warning is bullshit. I gave up after a few rows and came inside and began working again on my baby quilt which I had proclaimed to be FUBAR and just finished fucking it up and then put lace and hearts over the worst parts.
A bit of metaphor there- love can cover some sins, at least.
Babies don't know from quilting mistakes. They just know about softness.
That's what I'm telling myself, anyway.
It never really rained here today. Just drizzled off and on. Still is. Mr. Moon has gone to Orlando and I am here alone which is probably the best thing for all.
I am doing the very best I can. I keep adding flowers to the hallway altar although I can't really bestir myself to plug in the lights on my poor little Christmas tree. I mean...who cares?
I wonder how many photos I have posted of this sweet little carved Reina de Mexico that I bought in Cozumel which lives in my hallway. Let's see- I have posted 5,695 posts since I began blogging in 2007. So I'm guessing maybe five hundred? At least.
For a damn atheist, I sure do seem to love a Madonna.
We all need a mama.
Or a Mama. No matter how old we get.