The Sun and the Moon

This is a picture by Alaskan artist, Rie Muñoz, it has a First Nations' legend across the bottom, 'The Sun and the Moon belong to Women'. We saw it in a small shop/gallery in Juneau, which, I believe is the Rie Muñoz gallery. I can't say I loved her style, but this one spoke to me.

So it is Ramadan. I found this out from a Dawn via Facebook. I am taking the liberty of re-posting her link here, because there are some reflections on Ramadan by women and men of Islam, and it's of course, another indicator or reminder of how close people of faith can be.

At church today, M gave us some powerful images that had stayed with her. One was of being on a train going into New York. The suburbs were grey and dreary and then suddenly, a bright, colourful image, an advertisement. There was an attractive young couple against a happy, countryside background, but across the bottom, the surgeon general's warning that smoking can kill, an ad for cigarettes.
This vivid colour against the grey, with the message, 'buy this, it will kill you'. This is what society is reduced to.

Yesterday, I went to my first ever bridal shower. I went because of the two people involved and the equally wonderful person who was organising it. In general I think I could give them a miss. It was a very pleasant occasion, fantastic food and great company in a lovely home. As such events go, it was well done. The two brides already have a home, so the host had made the theme 'wine'. Clever.
I think I would personally encourage a more streamlined method of gift receiving, go in, give gift, done.
Ah well.

Right now, if the sun belongs to women, then they must be having one very long hot flush. It is impossibly hot. Going outside is almost to give up breathing, and no end in sight.
Coming back up from the Static on Saturday morning, the line going down to the States was so long it wound back onto the motorway, it must have been three hours plus-worth of waiting. I reckon people had decided it was perfect weather to go down to the seaside, and then instead, have sat on the tarmac with the sun beating down on their metal box so that they could inch forward towards the equally over-heated women and men of the Homeland Security.