a circle about the things we built on the wall (click through to see the assemblage pictures on Flickr) Bandwidth is very narrow, so I won't say much. 

most of those in a good way – I'll learn more today

I wish I could travel as the crow flies today! I'm headed waaay down Maine (downwind during the summer's prevailing winds) and from Bath to Deer Isle is a long winding way. I'll be in Deer Isle tonight, at Haystack.

I have no idea what connections are like that far north, so posting may be spotty. Be assured I will return with pictures and tales –

via www.flickr.com

A bluejay for you in the middle of the last whirlwind of packing. I'll leave tomorrow around lunchtime, stay with friends for the night, and hammer up the coast on Sunday.

It is still hot, but with Alice off to NYC to fold paper, Aerin and I have let the air-conditioner rest, and made do with fans. Aerin would like to be a tropical girl. Alice and I are both polar people. Air conditioning makes us polar people happier, but Aerin sits on the end of the couch under a pile of blankets with her lips turning blue. So. Warmth today. Also a couple thunderstorms, just to shake things up.

via www.flickr.com

Cstbirds are loud, and vulgar, and not brightly colored, and I love them anyhow. It might have something to do with reading a great deal of Thurber in my youth, including the short story The Catbird Seat. Or not.

That is a bug in her beak. It is not a mistake.

via www.flickr.com

Yesterday was flipping hot. So was today. The living room is cool. Our bedroom is cool. My workroom is a sauna. So I go in, and work for ten or fifteen minutes, and then retreat somewhere to let the sweat dry.

Barn swallows fly low across the tops of the grass in the fields, and swoop back and forth in front of your horse when you ride out. There is something thrilling about their speed and dedication, and something else hypnotic about their patterns. The horses are spooked the first couple times in the field, and then they get used to it.

via www.flickr.com

The awesome thing about a mockingbird is how many different songs you get for the price of one bird. I was listening idly last week, and heard a blue jay, and a cardinal, and a robin, and a catbird, and then a very odd seagull, and then I realized all those bird songs had come from the same place. Mockingbird. My father remembers one in the neighborhood of his youth that would sing with his neighbor while she practiced piano.

via www.flickr.com

Alice presented me this lovely wafty object. I think it probably came from the neighbor's chickens. They are young yet, and still fledging out.

I wandered around the neighborhood today looking for chickens to photograph. My friend Kim doesn't keep them any more, but Karin has four handsome ladies around the corner, and Maddie next door has five teenagers.

via www.flickr.com

We were invited up to the local State Park for a picnic with Aerin's young man's father. He's camping there this weekend (visiting from NJ) and his kids are visiting there instead of the usual hotel visit. Aerin went up with the new-to-us Laser on a trailer behind the van, and Alice and Al and I all came up in time for lunch. There was sailing on the pond, and ducks, and surprisingly large fish visible.

The weather was perfect.

via www.flickr.com

What is surprising me about this year of circles is how much like a journal it is. January and February, not so much, but since March I feel I've been very specifically showing you what I saw today.

I made a fabric postcard a day, more or less, in 2007. That was much more an exploration of materials and methods. This time I have a much stronger grasp on materials and methods. The change in emphasis is very interesting.