This is Koko. She is a Jack Russell Terrier, Irish version, so a little smaller than the English version. In this photo, she's a puppy, but in a few months she'll turn 1 year old.

She's smart, cute, active, funny, loving and loyal. I can't even remember life before Koko. She is always on my lap or right next to me. That is, when she isn't chasing tennis balls or trying to catch frogs (success rate: zero frogs).

We love our KokoBean!

Thinking about this past summer...

This was a crazy summer for Koko and me. Here in the northeast it rained until August, then it was hot and humid. My garden is ragtag because there weren't many "outside" days. Now it's time to cut back everything and get ready to put the garden to bed. Rather sad.

But I had a great quilting summer. In two weeks I made a friendship quilt for a dear woman's ordination as a UU minister. It's a tree and the leaves were signed by her family and friends. It was designed by Kate P. from an idea of mine and it turned out to be very lovely. Kate also made a little red bird covered in tiny white buttons flying out of the tree. Now I'm working on a Halloween quilt by Vintage Spool and a Christmas gift for my son using Kaffe Fassett's Circus Tents pattern. I love to quilt, that's for sure.

And I lost 35 pounds over the past year too. So... bad summer weather but lots of good stuff made up for that.

Wild Geese
by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

from Dream Work by Mary Oliver
published by Atlantic Monthly Press
© Mary Oliver