Today’s entry is not quilting.  No pattern, no stitches, no machines.  I’m taking a quick breath while I finish my morning coffee and our home sits under the clouds of a morning rain.

Sometimes we get caught up in the day to day activity of surviving.   Occasionally there is an opportunity to       pause     , and rest, like you would at the top of a long hard climb.

When I get winded, journaling is one way that I do that.  I happened across a journal entry that I spontaneously decided to write last year when I was sitting on an airplane that was boarded but held waiting for takeoff.  Grammar or any comments of “why” put aside,  it represented my mundane life at that moment.  I was leaving Kansas City on a business trip.   The best description I have for how I felt was “Calm” like I had just let out a deep breath after a scurried race through madness.

Here is what I wrote:

“We sit on the runway, the lights blinking yellow out the second-row window.  I sit middle sit in a capacity plane.  We roll on the tarmac, with the roar of the engines, toward San Diego.  A destination of respite after a half a week of antiquated equipment issues and developmental product delivery schedule issues.  A haze hangs over the city, still green, despite a summer in the Midwest.  The landscape is a puzzle of suburban sprawl and rural charm, fields breaking the horizon until we lift unto the clouds, pure wisps of moisture.