This is going to be random. Bear with me.
1. Your adorable sewing projects in the back-to-school Flickr pool have warmed my heart today. Thank you, thank you to everyone who participated.
It's going to take me a few days to create a post with all the photos (or at least one photo of each project), so feel free to keep adding more images. To be fair, I'll draw the winner of the sewing calendar from everyone who has entered by today, but it's not like I'm going to close down the pool or anything, so please inspire us throughout the year with your sewing loveliness.
2. Rocks rock.
The girls and I went on a little hike the other day and collected some rocks. Once we got home, they carefully washed and dried them and then painted them to resemble ladybugs, cars, turtles and other creatures and objects.
I don't have any shots of the finished products. Let me assure you, they look nothing like Martha's rock crafts, but the girls were extremely proud of their work. When I accidentally referred to an alligator as a turtle, I was told I was being "ra-dink-ulous."
3. I have written and erased this a few times now, and usually that means I should just stick with erase. I don't think anyone comes here to read about politics or religion, do they? But let me just say this: I read the news about the discord at the Sept. 11 remembrances with sadness this weekend.
I was in New York on the third anniversary of the attacks. I happened to be there for a conference and was working for the newspaper at the time, so they asked if I wouldn't mind covering the memorial service.
At first I was nervous about approaching families. I don't know why. As a reporter, I'd knocked on doors of white supremacists before and didn't break a sweat.
I quickly learned, though, that the families wanted to talk. I think they wanted the memories of their loved ones to live on. Some of them beamed as they remembered their brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, husbands, wives, partners, friends.
There was one dad, though, that I'll never forget. He was carrying flowers, so I approached him and asked if I could talk to him about the person he lost in the attacks. Every time he tried to open his mouth, the words wouldn't come. Just silence. He finally pulled out a piece of paper from inside his coat, unfolded it and handed it to me. It was the "missing" flier that he must have made and distributed in the days after 9/11. I managed to learn that this was his son and that they were from Colorado, as well as a few other details about the young man's life.
The father then leaned his head on the building next to us and sobbed. I think he would have crumpled over if the building hadn't been there for support. We squeezed each other's arms for a few minutes, and eventually nodded a goodbye and he continued on to the ceremony.
Of course I support people's right to speak out and I take great pride in being able to see and respect two (or more) sides of an argument. But I'm not sure I'll ever understand why people choose anger and fear over peace and unity.
If that father was there again grieving for the loss of his son, I don't know, maybe he would have been part of the protests against the mosque. Maybe not. I just hope he was surrounded by love, not hate. That--besides having his son back--seemed to be what he needed most.
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