I Wonder as I Wander

I am about ready to pour rice into my little bags, all 58 of them. Yes, I pushed myself to finish chain stitching three sides, and then went forward with more intent to do that fourth side with its stop and start-leave a hole to turn, and then load with rice.

The first pattern I followed for this project suggested hand stitching the opening. This had to be for people who were only making a few of them, not for die-hards who had gone over their common sense limit to make ...how many am I making? I am not counting at this point, nor am I taking more photos of the small squares with sewn sides. 

I found another pattern that suggested closing the 4th side opening with topstitching. I am going for that. Maybe they will be worth photographing when they are finished and each pair tied with a ribbon.

This act of photographing the smallest steps for my projects bores me almost as much as comparing myself to someone else and almost darkens the moment. Some projects, like this one, have a lot of details that take days of work and show little progress because there is so much to do.

Here is a pic from the north side of my home. Its a crop of Miner's Leaf Lettuce that I transplanted from the house in the Mountains more than three years ago and is only now the size where it could be harvested. It's a fragile plant that cannot take heat and prefers shade so disappears with the late spring heat. I have yet to eat any of it and may try some this year.

Here is my Great-Aunt, Maria Rosa Capone Squillace, who was both fierce and gentle as women get to be. She married my Grandfather's older Brother, so is not related to me by blood. I guess I am close to her age when she had this was taken because we have the same smile lines that go unused without the smile. Her eyes. There is something about her eyes. I wish we were of the blood because I think I might get more. However, there she is and here I am, across space and time. I know nothing about her other than what I can imagine from her photo. I don't know if she cooked, baked, knitted, gardened or did something either courageous or risky. Like most elderly women of her time, she wore black, and has the same soft gray hair that I do that is asymmetrical. Her almost-smile compels me to sit with this photo from time to time, and I wonder why it was taken and why it came to me, as well as wondering what the Capone connection is. There is no one left with answers. This I find interesting.

Another thing of interest to me is the Buddhist Temple just outside of town. I watched them do these sand art mandalas for hours! Every color laid down grain by grain, shading by the lightest movements. And then, almost as soon as they are finished, they open the windows and doors to let the wind blow their work away. Taking photos here would barely show the few inches of progress in a day. Yet....