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anitrak.bsky.social
writer, weaver, spinner, traveler, seeker, occasional preacher, temporary migrant, possibly re-incarnated Australian sheep dog
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I’d like to announce my forthcoming US history book, covering a decisive but tumultuous era in that country’s history, titled “The trade policies of the United States: 10:30 am to 1:30 pm on Friday, March 7, 2025” It will be 400 pages.

My plants survived the winter! And I've ordered seeds for summer!!

It is so easy to hit the ohmygoddidyouseethatpanicbutton right now. I'm doing all the emotions everyone else is doing. But I'm also trying to find my grounding. I want to sustain hope for myself & extend hope 2 everyone around me. Here are 2 links below that I send as invitation to you. Choose Hope

Out my back window I see a small, thin, tiny little sliver of moon low in the sky. The light is diffused. This beauty has been here for us to see for generations & will still be there for generations to come. My seeing is important. The moon is seen. This is how we get through this.

Why do i need to say this? Trump is not who Putin needs to negotiate with. Seriously.

I remember when the news came in limited spurts - the morning paper, the evening tv shows, the top of the hour radio headlines. Then you went on with your day. I'm trying to go back to that life but the addiction of anxiety is intense.

Some thoughts about Christianity and the Christian Church and sermons It might have been a while, if ever, since some of you have encountered Christianity in person. I think most of us these days see the church through the lens of the media - which presents incomplete information.

The Christian church is based on the life, words, and actions of a man who challenged power. The Gospel raises up the poor as meaningful to God and scolds the rich for being selfish. We know that we can survive because we know what Jesus knew: Not even death ends us. Speak truth. Offer hope.

Food & emotion noticing: I went to research menus from roadside diners in the Western US for a meal in the book I am writing and now I am missing hard those huge breakfast platters. They don't make sage breakfast sausage here. I know the food is better here. =sigh=

I'm not sure what is going on but in the last few weeks I've been making bad decisions (ie eating that second cookie kind of bad) that also feel very honest and freeing. I mean I want to lose 10 more kilos but... there's that cookie just lying there and my mouth over here and... well.

Please add me, thank you

I started sewing a pair of pants and the front parts of the legs are draped over the machine. I have a commitment 2 make art & I have the page lying open w brushes nearby. I have a book I want to finish in 3 months & it is open on the computer. It is a good day today.

2025 starts with cutting out cookies with a 3 year old son of some friends. Taking this as a good sign.

When I was a child, it wasn't Christmas season till the CBrown show came on TV. I was thrilled with the release of the music CD as a young adult. It was a life line back to that magic, hopeful, joyful moment of TV storytelling when the season was darkening with family stuff. >

Sunday morning the 22nd of December. We are now past the gentle relief of the earth's slow return toward the sun and still before the grand frenzy of the family and gifting fest.We have no family near and here everything shuts down for 54 hours. we are gifted, mandated, time to do the small things

I've recently changed meds and I'm observing how my body is adapting. I'm considering the news on how the world is changing but I don't look as often as I used to. I'm looking out my window and notice how the trees and houses are settling into winter's stance. Dawn is bringing pink to the clouds.

geeez. This writing thing when the characters go dark and start to show their pain.... my pain...their pain. I gotta go breath now.

I finished sewing a dress I've been working on this past week. It is comfortable and warming as I hoped. But it wasn't fun at the end because I felt internal pressure to get it done I can clean my studio/living room. So many opportunities to speak kindly to myself.

I'm cold. Its the heart drugs I think. And the coldness outside. The darkness. This season.

One year in Salzburg I found a small statue of Joseph on his knees, his ear pressed to Mary's bump. I didn't buy it but I kept the image of the anticipation & awe. This month where dreams of happy families are corrupted to serve the task of buying stuff depresses me. I try to remember Joseph's ear.

This 3rd day of Advent, a time marker that points toward time's spiral, comes now a sunrise hidden behind thick fat rain clouds. My home is not ready for the Christ nor for the decorations. It is messy, not magazine perfect. I now begin to question home's adornment in capitalistic economies.

I dropped in on a zoom workshop led by Pádraig O Tuama called Poetry & Prayer Sunday night. One of his themes was the role of observation. What we gain when we pause and look around us as well as within us. What we learn when we stop and write down our desires as petition. It can be enough