I did go to bed but have mostly been goofing off today!
Luz is a Julie’s Tea Cafe grading grading grading. I should be grading grading grading, too, but I don’t want to!

I started stuffing my bear’s legs and she looks so much better already! I realized I need to unravel part of the arms because I had started pink short sleeves, and just realized that the image I’m going for is sleeveless. The arms are pretty short, anyway, so I would’ve needed to add on to them anyway.
My left wrist (not my right!) is hurting from trying to tighten my gauge by yanking on the yarn. It could just be sore from being unused to so much activity, though. I’m not worried about it, but i have to stop doing things like this: it always puts me off projects when I try to “fix” problems and make the project more work and less relaxing.

Still fantasizing about making dolls. The little boy in a dinosaur costume for Steven. Cisco as teenage mutant ninja turtle.

Nopalito is barking his head off out the front window because it is Friday.

I saw something a little while ago and I wish I’d followed up. There was a Muslim woman walking up the middle of the street, and a guy in a car was going slow alongside her talking to her. I just presumed they knew each other, but I wish I’d double-checked to make sure she was ok.

I have a lot of ambivalence abut knitting for the mother bear project, because I fear it’s just white people charity, without any critical reflecting, appreciation of how we are ourselves the cause of many peoples problems. But then I say that it’s something that I can do that may be good for me and good for someone else and maybe that is just enough for now.

Right now I need to get up, get dressed, take my pills, pick up some stitch markers, go clean the coop.
I dreamt last night that my dad was driving me around old-los angeles and telling me, they used to grow carrots here, or that place had goats, so many goats you could buy the manure, and felipes where we would have the french dip sandwiches. Maybe instead of asking Margo to sketch me and christine and my dad at the sofa truck, I should just crochet the dolls.

So far my creativity is limited to the realm of imaginary crochet dolls.

anyway, the dogs could use a walk, as that would settle some of Nopalito’s barkiness.

Oh, but I was thinking about WoC theology of liberation and how Octavia Butler’s Wild Seed is the conflict between the loving, creative mother god, Anyanwu, and the predatory, dangerous, father god Doro. And while in the novel they come to being able to live together, in Mind of My Mind, the courageous WoC daughter is able to finally kill Doro the dangerous father but is ultimately setting herself and her (white+multiracial) uber-community up as the next gods. (who will need to be rebelled against in the future). But that Anyanwu decides to die, rather than live in her granddaughter’s world without Doro.

I worry that we are all (whether my family in particular or folks in general) Doro’s people: bred by him for prey, with their “talents” making them unfit for family life. They are drawn to one another but are dangerous to one another, with mental illness, drug and alcoholism, child abuse, etc. And Doro, the engineer of their misery, is also the one who “rescues” them from it, setting them up somewhere, and then “rescues” them again when he kills them and takes their bodies.

Anyanwu giveth life and Doro taketh life away.