I embrace my fear, this reminder of my humanity --

See, all has not been consumed!

I embrace my fear. In the act of the embrace, something returns to me. My love. I embrace my fear and it becomes a friend, who reminds me of my humanity. I am not cut off. I embrace my fear. I caress it, feed it, and it sends another messenger. This messenger, the bringer of light, tells me, "Look, you are radiant!" The fire which burns within you shall not consume you. I embrace this messenger and my heart becomes light. I become light, and the knife of anger no longer cuts. I feel its edge, but I am light above it. I am radiant. Once more, I embrace the totality of life.

Life embraces me in return!

This is the stormiest July the desert has known in many years. Every other day, we've had thunderstorms. Yesterday we took Julia to get her hair permed. It was pouring so much, the roads were filled with water. Laura made her way carefully through the 'rivers'. On the way home, we stopped at the Fry's grocery store. The rain drenched us before we entered. While there, the electricity went off. Everyone in the store froze in their spot until their eyes adjusted to the darkness. I was beginning to be able to read the labels on wine coolers and beer cases when the light came back on.

Our adventures were nothing compared to what's happened in other areas. Laura's Mom watched in horror as her neighbor's house across the street was zapped by lightening and burnt to the ground!

I got impatient with the slow progress of the cactus flower picture I've been working on, and needed something I could finish in a couple of hours. While I was finishing the ironing, I could almost hear this bird chirping at me, "Draw Me! Draw Me!", from the pages of an open magazine that was laying on the table.

Bigots will not listen to them. They just keep spreading their hatred, encouraged by these ads. On the Starnet Community Front Page, one cowardly anonymous person posted:

Saturday began quietly for me. I stayed home to wait for a sewing customer while Laura and Julia went to our SCA shire's Plunder, Pillage and Rapier II summer weekend series of events. Laura was to be range master for the archery events held in the morning. While alone, I entered into that Community Front Page discussion, and surfed the web. Having discovered many online journalers such as myself, I've found some good writers who draw me into their worlds. I read them not only to be entertained, but to follow the passage of their lives. They, by the power of their words, have made me care about them. We watch TV shows in order to learn what happens next to the characters. But these are REAL people! It is strange, for I know more about their fears, hopes and joys than many of the people I have met in person.

Having lunched at their cafeteria of the mind, I sat down at the drawing table and worked on my cactus flower. I already had the flower and most of the green growth done. What remained was the thorn-filled center. Worries pricked my mind like thorns. What had started out to be a good picture might be soon ruined. But I proceeded through the thorns nervously, and by late afternoon, past danger, rushed to the scanner with the results.

In the evening, the three of us went to the SCA's event revel that was held at the Francisco Grande Resort near here. We dressed up in our finery, and took pictures of each of us before we left. Julia insisted I take the camera to the event as well. It wasn't needed, for Cynthia's mother is a professional photographer. She had lighting umbrellas and a draped tapestry over a teal silk backdrop set up. We took advantage of the opportunity, and had her photograph us together and singularly. I'll replace many of our online photos with the good ones when they arrive.

Chips of potato and tortilla were set up on tables, along with pitchers of lemonade and iced tea. I kept shoving those chips in my mouth almost compulsively, while waiting for the dinner. An hour and a half later, we learned there was no dinner being served! So we snuck out to the resort's dining room. At eighteen dollars a plate, it was a little more pricey than we cared to pay. So we assuaged our hunger with caesar salad. By that time, I was so full of greasy chips, it was sufficient. The salad was the genuine gourmet version, complete with anchovy paste, which made it more tangy than I've been used to.

Then we returned to the ballroom. We were too tired to join in the dancing, but it was fun watching the lively crowd whirl around the room. One small, dark haired young woman, a time transplant from ancient Israel perhaps, was enchanting to watch. She had a wide charming smile and glowing eyes as her husband twirled her about.

Many of the Atenveldt kingdom royalty attended and we had court with them. Special thrones were set up for them, announcements were made, resulting in much cheering of "Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!" for all the accomplishments of the shire for this, our fanciest shindig ever. As the two couples and one singlet sat in their thrones, I observed how similar the pairs looked. People say that of us, the triad. Before we met Julia, strangers always thought Laura and I were "mother and daughter". I'd always blush, and Laura would make some witty comment. Now we are a threesome, people still think we are related. I always say we are family, for we are chosen family. Is it that we are somehow attracted to those who look like us? Laura and I had not met face to face, yet we had already fell in love. It was a surprise to learn of our commonalities in physical appearance. Perhaps it is not all a co-incidence.

Three books I'd valued were misshapen and moldy. One was a hardcover of "Jonathan Livingston Seagull" my mother had given me. I thought the small book of Kahlil Gibran could be rescued, but Laura and Julia both said "Get that moldy thing out of the house! The mold spores will spread!" I tossed it in the trash ruefully. Why had these books been put out in the shed in the first place?

However after James gets done fixing the shed, it should be sturdy and rainproof again. We bought plywood to lay on top of the lengthwise wood boards, and roofing tar paper. When James went on the roof of the shed to lay down the plywood, he found many of the boards were rotted as well. They also must be replaced. Both Laura and James have been working very hard. I've tried to do what I could, but I'm not able to lift anything heavy. Laura shouldn't either, but she forces herself. She's been so exhausted and hurts so much by day's end. I worry about her.

Julia likes her new job. She records all the changes that are made to anyone's property within the county. It involves data entry and scanning of documents. They vary her tasks so she isn't doing the same thing all day. Her co-workers are glad to have her skills and refined, gentle manners.

Recently when I saw a photo of him, I remembered my young experience. I thought I might be able to capture some of his energy in a drawing.

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