I just walked out of the sewing machine store with a belt for the Singer sewing machine I have been restoring at home.  This store had a 10 foot frontage.  Carried an inventory of new, used and about to be repaired sewing machines. The proprietor wasn’t sure what I wanted till I pointed at the drive belt.  He pulled one out of a package of five and handed it to me.  He was not only salesperson, mechanic and factory agent — he was Singer in town.  He was that person who maintained the manual threaded needle machines.

A few blocks in a Tuk Tuk Taxi away we paused in the temple courtyard to grab this group shot of four friends.  Gail’s head clearly extended by the pinnacle of the stupa.

At the lookout Gail and Kenny pose for a view of the Chiang Mai city from the pinnacle of the temple.  The thread that ties us together is a journey in recovery!  A meal.  A story. A meeting. A few laughers. The love of having shared a journey.

The restaurant brags “Dutch Food”.  The menu is a thread that ties us home, however the Dutch are not known for a very distinct cuisine.  We pass.  A few blocks later across from the River Market Restaurant  we walk into a collector’s store.  There we find this old British designed tricycle that was built in “Burma” (The name clearly stamped on the foot rest).  Five days ago we left Yangon and Myanmar (the country formerly known as Burma).  Seeing this thread of history was a reminder of a higher purpose for even the small details of our lives.

The ears a space age Mickey Mouse for our friends at home!  A threat that we might get tuned in with tin foil or whatever creates shade.

The hat, borrowed from the handmade line of a local fashionista a reminder that our closets back home are not threadbare.  We do not need anything.  We have found the needle in the haystack.  It is memory.  It is story.  It is awareness.