Daily observations at or near Two Dot Spot, written by hand on the backs of postcards that record with ink and coffee a few minutes of the earth's orbit around the sun. The cards are physically mailed from Two Dot, Montana to those who have requested them...local to local. Ruth Marie Tomlinson
40 years with my Dear John and today we celebrate by phone…Two Dot…Seattle. The first bird I heard this morning was a meadowlark asking a question…his call rising at the end. I’ve never heard it before, but I’m asking a question too. “What are we doing apart today, my love?” John has been away for nearly two weeks…long enough. And today, under this expressionless sky…a shell clamped over my prairie home, I miss his impression under the comforter next to me. He would be stealing a few more minutes of sleep if he were here. And I would suffer his puffing and farting with pleasure.