Dixie Dingo Dreaming

I spent four wonderful days with my mother, Meta, attending the festival. The suitcase that was half full on the way to Texas came back home to Maine stuffed full of fabrics.

Here’s the write-up that accompanied my entry:

Pets, like our dog Pippin, enrich our lives. The fact that she is not of a breed recognized by the American Kennel Club does not dismay Pippin any more than it does us. She is plainly satisfied to be partly or wholly (who knows for sure?) dixie dingo, the wild dog of the Americas. She reminds us to be happy with who and where we are. Sitting in the sun is an opportunity to practice her philosophy of living in the moment. While correct posture is an important habit to cultivate, it is sometimes preferable, indeed sometimes necessary to slouch. Simplicity is her touchstone: warmth, food, and affection are all that are really needed. Though on her short list of indulgent behaviors are: begging for dog biscuits, snitching compost scraps, fighting strange dogs, and rolling in anything rotten (either animal or vegetable, it matters not, nor is it always clear). The only thing better than lying in the sun is: sleeping in the sun, of course. Even sitting up her eyes droop and she snoozes, though it is better obviously to stretch out, turning from belly to side to back in order to ensure even distribution of the sun’s rays. Sometimes, when she is lying belly up with legs in the air, her tail will wag, though we have not moved or spoken. Is there any clearer indication that she is happy? Is there any clearer invitation to be happy ourselves?

Quilt Stories: “Dixie Dingo Dreaming” (Update with Slideshow)