I found this hastily scribbled on the back of an envelope on my desk.

How odd! What does it mean? I don’t remember writing it at all.

It starts like a grocery list, with delicious, delicious bacon at the top. (Sacrilegious Jew, indeed.)

But then … “ranch as a kid.” As in visiting a ranch as a kid? Kids eating ranch dressing? A ranch in its fledgling state?

And mixes. I make a lot of music mixes. It would be like me to remind myself to do such a thing. Is that it? Or some other kind of mix? Cakes, pasta salads, parties? No, those are mixers…

Have you ever found something you created in the past and had no idea what it meant or what you were thinking when you made it?

A few weeks ago, I heard a report on KUOW about a minister retiring from years of hospital work. Throughout her career, she had often visited staff to bless their hands as they prepared for treatments or surgery. What she discovered is that most of these workers were already praying for their patients.

One person worked in a windowless room in the basement of the hospital. She assembled all the surgical instruments needed for operations, and each time, she looked at the name on the list, said a quick prayer, and then carefully arranged the sterilized equipment on its trays, never to see these patients, never knowing whether they lived or died, but resolute in her commitment to wish each one well.

She was one of hundreds who did this, every day.

I was so moved by this. And it occurred to me … maybe this is happening all the time, in all kinds of ways. Have you ever silently sent good thoughts to someone, without ever telling him or her? And would you believe that others have already done this for you, many, many times?

More weekend adventures! In the continuing spirit of supporting local businesses, I checked out I Heart Rummage at popular night spot Chop Suey. So many crafty crafters I almost keeled over, although that may have just been the wild death metal the DJ was blasting. Still, I managed to talk to a woman who makes gorgeous devotionals in the Dia de los Muertos style (alas, I lost her card – if you know this woman, please tell me so I can link to her) and Citrine and Garnet’s Betty (passionforfashion@hotmail.com), brilliant maker of the snap cuff with a zippered pocket in it!

Then, a stroll around the Hill, ending up at Caffé Vita for yet another steamer and more writing/doodling. The art show against the black background is striking, no? And the blond woman looks haloed, prophetically. Well done, Vita.

A Hopper-esque scene at a neighborhood café (albeit blurry, I know). Speaking of…

A totally absorbing retrospective of Hopper’s work, in color and B&W.

All night — and all your life, if you are willing —

It will nuzzle your face, cold-nosed,

Like a small white wolf;

It will curl in your palm

Like a hard blue stone;

It will liquefy into a cold pool

Which, when you dive into it,

Will hold you like a mossy jaw.

A bath of light. An answer.

From “The Night Traveler,” by Mary Oliver