sugar, have you seen that nice curved fold-up pruning saw?

(shhh. it's in the shed. it carves damp plaster like nobody's business.)

and: plaster left outside under the shed windowledge with rain dripping off the roof makes the plaster look like coral. so I could set some of the molds out and let the rain carve them, and manipulate that with moving them, covering parts, carving, staining. waxing some parts, maybe. what would leaves from the cherry tree do if they were left inside one? (they stain things the loveliest lushest pink-rust-red.)

I've packed some with moss harvested from the bottom of the alder tree. I wonder if the dirt and moss will stain the plaster. and if I brought the molds inside, with the moss, would it dry and keep its shape. or I suppose I could keep it moist and have a nice indoor moss garden. how cool would that be?

last night I almost couldn't sleep thinking, oh what if I set some of the molds in the creek. with the water rushing over them and let the water carve them that way.

life is so good some days. it's days like this that I think the bleakness and despair is an illusion, a delusion. but of course in the middle of sorrow and anxiety the possibility of possibility seems unreal. I don't know why I have such an either-or personality. it's certainly a challenge to learn to live with.

but enough about that.

the sun is shining on the shed, wet and sparkling from last night's frost. the moss is everywhere, soft and gorgeous. little violets are blooming at the feet of the cherry tree. and the whole sky is blue.