I’m sitting in my kitchen … it’s big enough for an easy chair — the green one from a corner of our old dining room. I think this is my favorite spot. This chair used to be Zing's favorite; now it’s mine. He has has claimed a corner of the couch.
Today was supposed to be so simple: Zing went to the gym, I to the farmers market. Then I set up the sewing machine to hem the drapes. (You do know I am resisting this chore, don’t you?) I had everything ready and then discovered I don’t have the plug! Somewhere between Tallahassee and here I lost the plug for the sewing machine! First I panicked and then I Googled. Found out Bernina machines are 15 minutes (or less) away. I called. They had the connection I need. Zing and I drove over, and I was amazed to find a giant fabric, thread, and sewing machine store very close to me. I’m afraid that I reacted with awe when I stepped over the threshold, kind of like I would react at the Vatican or the Pyramids. “Wow! Sacred space!!” The Bernina staff lit incense on me and gave me the plug and sent me away with a blessing. I’m glad I lost the plug, because in the process I found my people.
Then Zing and I went for a walk in the rain and passed a sad monument. Only a block away from where we live is the Japanese-American Civil Liberties Monument, an unassuming building that we'd passed many times. It's next door to a barber shop and surrounded by apartment buildings. Today I took the time to read the signs out front, commemorating the forced internment of Japanese Americans in WWII. It’s a memorial to the whisking away of Japanese Americans, who were feared in WWII. There’s a display on the street that describes in simple terms their great loss, and also their amazement that they were treated this way. The horror echoes today.
Above and below, parts of the signs near the sidewalk
in front of the Japanese-American Civil Liberties Monument
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