This man is still breathing.
Oh, and this one, too.
You are looking at an MRI scan of a brain suffering from migraine headache. Beautiful. Just as the visual hallucinations that warn me the headache is coming are beautiful.
Although, largely underappreciated – especially if the aura occurs when one is driving because it tends to be a bit disconcerting to have the pavement suddenly turn into a watery kaleidescope.
It’s a wild little trip, alright, brought to me by the magic of bright spring light, pollen and my brain. Cool.
To GH, before my eyes were open.
Did it snow last night?
hmmmm . . . that’s good.
Transitions are hard. Ask President-elect Obama. Here at ThreadingWater HQ, there are several transitions in the works: seasonal, political, artistic and Thanksgiving, worthy of its own category.
Blogging Lite will continue as my time in the kitchen stretches far beyond normal boundaries. By the time we pack the car Wednesday, there will be seven pies, 25 lbs. of twice-baked potatoes, a complete post-Thanksgiving meal for fifteen people, assorted side dishes, breakfast fixings and a heaping of anticipation for five whole days of extravagant time with loved ones, replete with in-depth analysis of all things political. (We can’t help it. Religion and politics MUST be discussed at our table.)
Oh, and some knitting.
This is what the end of summer looks like.
Our first freeze is about to land on us – hard. The kitchen herb garden has been tucked-in and, with any luck, we’ll still be harvesting fresh thyme, rosemary, sage and parsely on mild winter days when the snow cover isn’t too heavy. All of the roses and lavender have been picked. The front porch is filled with firewood instead of our summer breakfast table.
Change is in the air, and in the light. Eight more days.
Every two years they throw a reunion party weekend for teachers and students and the island locals. There was a student art show (I came home with a “Viewer’s Choice” award for my work on The Mother’s Day Project) – and a style show at which I had the chance to prance around all fancy-like in a couple of my clothing designs. Tons of fun.
Plus, I found a new lodging establishment with rooms that overlook Rock Island. I lounged around each morning with my coffee and watched the sun rise over the boathouse. Sweet.
My 5 mph weekend is over. No more breaks until after election day.
Yesterday was the Wisconsin Sheep & Wool Festival.
there were winners
sheep in turtlenecks
and a charming companion and would-be spinner
As for purchases? A strictly “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy is in force.
The uninhabitable planet of my brain has recently spun itself off into a totally new orbit. There were memorable stops along the way, like this island where I spent a week:
and these new, inspiring and creative friends (who also happened to share the island with me and my brain)
and, we had a lot of fun with melted wax, fabric and dye pots, in a setting out of some Jamie Wyeth painting complete with bluebirds, spotted fawns, a full moon and island breezes
naturally, one island isn’t enough, so there was this island where Greatest Husband hiked with me
and a rocking fish boil to celebrate the end of seven perfect days
before returning home to:
But, my brain’s course is still a bit wobbly and this post is only a light beam. I’ve already moved six billion light years further along, so don’t get used to seeing much new material here. I’m off to another continent just as soon as I get the laundry done – one so far away the sun never sets there.
If you can zero-in on my coordinates as I pass over your town, you’re welcome to help me celebrate my birthday on Thursday. There will be cake, beignets and iced coffee – and I’ll be staying far away from black holes.
We’ll have an interstellar gas of a good time.