When you know

I had been scared for nothing in this tiny corner of woods. I think after the tick bite I generally got overly scared. But I biked down here today for one last hurrah.

I finally took the path that I knew led to the airstrip (I had always seen the two paths from the airstrip but didn't follow because I didn't know where they led. Silly fear!). This was about when today I knew I wanted to leave tomorrow, a day early.

I had had a lovely final visit to the library this week and saw this delightful Japanese book on growing mushrooms.

And these tidbits, plants tucked into the book (mostly likely a conservator's nightmare but terribly fun to discover).

The fun thing is that this wasn't even what I had requested but it was better so mistakes are often fortuitous.

I had searched the entire catalog for Korean anything and failed, so I looked up "Japan" and found one book that included Corea. Of course! Fascinating account, of course racist and not well informed because it's a white British guy going to Corea before Japan turned it into Korea and so on, but still so interesting. He wanted to look at plants and horticulture but found them utterly uninteresting and not special there, so instead he talked all about the people and how hot it was. It was foolish to travel there in the summer on horseback (I don't like going in summer even with cars and trains and A/C), but he said it was impossible to get accurate info about the country.

I had noticed this sweet piece on my first visit but wasn't able to ask until my last what it was: a piece by the late Jan Baker. Of course! It's so her.

There is plenty I haven't explored and yesterday, when attempting to avoid my school prep by taking three walks, one bike ride, cleaning, asking for a tour and then talking a lot, and so on, I came out this way. These are turned off but wow, to have your own gas pumps?!

The surprise lilies are all shouting and I'm so glad I was able to meet them. When I arrived, I was greeted by fireflies. Now, a month later, already so much has changed.

This is the house I asked to tour, the Nora Mellon house. I had expected grand wide open spaces but that isn't how it was. It was more like the other side, lots of smaller rooms attached to more and more.

This facsimile of a painting had me stumped. A dog playing harpsichord, I don't have enough art history study to understand why this image would ever have happened, but it was hilarious.

I only got around to dyeing, not using these. I started one tiny piece a few days ago but it languished in the face of reality: we're forced back to school and I'm terrified. Herb put it very well here. Since pandemic, I've felt a lot of resistance to a lot of my work. This is where I feel an incredible amount of it. A teacher long ago said resistance is information. Well, I know exactly what the information is and I don't feel good about it. Days of revamping a syllabus/schedule with very slow progress.

I knew I had to get home to deal with it, where all my notes and sample structures and real life are. Yes, it's beautiful and peaceful and whatnot here, but my work is done and I am needed elsewhere. Packing is so easy with these grand wheeled carts and I'm confused by how I seem to have less when I'm pretty sure it should be the same amount coming and going (actually, slightly more leaving). But a calm packing job when I live all on one level makes it easier. It has been great and it has come full circle.