Little Peaches Everywhere

This summer is being pretty peachy for me lately. 
Not to say there have been no problems.
If only.

Earlier this week, for instance, the workplace got so tangled, I actually TALKED TO JESUS on my bike ride home!
This is not something I do--I don't even "believe" in Jesus... but maybe I should, he was so very helpful:
Jesus told me, "Put that shit down, I'll deal with it." 

Thank you, yes. I'm doing that. (Wait, is this a peach or a problem?) 

And this morning, again, my eyes register smoke from Canadian wildfires.
But, you know, there's always something.

Okay, so, examples of peachiness...

I.  To begin with, Marz walking the Camino has invited me to review my own Caminos, walked twenty-two and twelve years ago, as I've been writing about. (My notebooks below.)

 

I've been surprised how good that is being. Following along is a reminder, too, of how loooong the walk is.
Every day is walking.
Marz left town three weeks ago, tomorrow, which means she's about halfway through.

Hi, Marz!
I am hoping your pilgrimage is as fruitful, at least in the long run, for you as it was for me,  . . . even if it's full of pits—which of course I hope it’s not!

II.  Then, one day this week I came home to TWO boxes on my doorstep--both from blog friends:
a box of fun old books from Kirsten (thanks, K! NEVER ENUF BOOKS),
and Linda Sue sent me a box of little, toyish things I don't know how I've lived without... including, miraculously! a doll (below) who will be the Mary Balloon in the Assumption Parade (Aug. 15).
I'd been wondering who could do that. (I have some old plaster Marys, but they are too heavy to float to Heaven.)

This new doll is the first I've met who was not manufactured to be a Madeline doll who clearly is an Orphan Red (the taxonomic name of the girlettes). You can see it too, can't you?

The girlettes say, She is one of us, just big. She has the same color dress with even lace sleeves that we have!

III.  Giving gifts is bounteous too.
Working at a thrift store, I am perfectly positioned: thrift presents are the best presents!

It was the birthday of E's little boy this week, and I could easily find for E (who isn't working at the store anymore) two of the three things her boy asked for:
rainbows, trucks, and baked pears.

He was carrying around his pastel-rainbow birthday bear. It'd donated with its tag still attached--I assume it was a birthday gift with the same temporary status as a greeting card--and it wears a birthday hat and a sign saying Happy Birthday.
The bear is silky soft, and the boy held it out to me, saying, "Touch it."

E also gave him an unpainted ceramic rainbow with paint pots to paint it (also donated new, in a sealed box). He wanted to paint it right away, so I helped him open the lids, and rinse his brush, while his mom attended to guests and food, etc.

My present to him, a dump truck with a lever to tilt the back box, was also popular--he put little Matchbox cars into its box-bed to dump out.

No baked pears 😞 but there was chocolate cake 😋.

IV. And...  little peaches everywhere.

I stopped on my bike home to photograph this painted Totoro bus stop box a few blocks from my house. It's painted all the way around; this is the inside: THE CATBUS STOPS HERE.
I should go back at night and see if they turn on the electric candles.

I'm always intending to make handmade signs, like the above box, for work, but realistically, this is what I'm up for, below---collaged signs.
I made these a couple weeks ago, and like them fine--they're fresh and new anyway.

Big Boss had asked me to take book photos for him to post on social media. In the interest of good work relations, I'm trying to do that weekly. I don't really mind, because BOOK's…

A good side-by-side presented itself this week:

Aaand... a tiny peach of a pleasure:
I was able to offer a helpful suggestion to Joanne at Cup on the Bus about how to mend a vase her grandmother had made:
kintsugi, "gold joinery"--a Japanese visible mending technique.

Joanne got a kit, and her sister mended the vase for her, with beautiful results--you can see it on Joanne's blog post, here.
I was extra-pleased to be of help because Joanne was thinking the broken vase might have to be thrown out.
Instead it has another layer of history and loveliness.

Article at the BBC: "Kintsugi: Japan's Ancient Art of Embracing Imperfection"--photo below:

__________________

That's it for now!
I am going to ANOTHER social event this afternoon---luckily the air quality is supposed to improve because it's an outdoor gathering that a volunteer is holding. I don't think I've ever mentioned him here--we're not personal friends--but he is the best volunteer at the store. I'm kinda going as a store representative.
It'll be fine.

I almost never want to take myself to social events, but I often do enjoy them, once I'm there---and this summer, they've been mostly good (or better—the garden tour, for instance).

Before I go . . . I still haven't put away the clean laundry!

[UPDATE: Ugh, the air is worse —in the red ‘bad for things that breathe’ zone—I didn’t go—am staying in and watching a Bourne DVD.]

UPDATE: Sock Repair: Baymax & Chibi Totoro

UPDATE:
I have now repaired a companion sock for Baymax: 
I darned a holey heel with the face of Chibi Totoro (the littlest totoro, right). 

Laura "gave" me these green SmartWool socks, my favorite pair, one cold day when she wanted me to go for a walk with her and I didn't have warm socks on. 
They were a loan, but afterward I badgered her into saying they were a birthday present. 
[Precioussss sockses. We wants them, we needs them...]  

Now I've learned to darn socks *, I was excited to repair the gaping holes I'd worn in the heels. 

I darned the face of Baymax, the "personal healthcare companion" from Big Hero 6, who I want with me always.  
It took almost three hours to reweave one heel: it'll probably last longer than the rest of the sock. [Update: I'm happy to report it only took 2+ hours to darn Chibi Totoro.]

* I "learned" how to darn by looking at a couple sets of instructions online.

Darning is super simple:

just sew a bunch of straight stitches in one direction, then crisscross them going the other direction. Basically you're reweaving missing cloth, or filling in threadbare patches.