a bit much

And so it begins ...

2012-01-27T14:53:00.000-08:00

Lambing season officially began this afternoon. No rest for the weary.

I am an idiot ...

2012-01-27T07:52:00.000-08:00

The other day, I cut all the necessary triangles out from these fabrics and randomly paired them up. Then I decided I'd quickly chain piece them while I waited for enough daylight to see where I was walking on the icy path to the barn for morning chores.

When I came back in, I realized I had sewn them all on the wrong side of the triangles. I had to unstitch and re-sew them all the right way. So much for "quickly."

Here's the layout, so far.

You want quick? Mittens -- the fastest EVER to knit. "Cloisonne" pattern from the Yarn Harlot on Ravelry. I made the first one, start to finish, while DH watched a movie. I had already read the book, so didn't need to pay much attention to the screen.

Here's the newest calf:

I've re-named the mother cow "Stormy." Last year, she went as far away from the barn as she could get on a snowy night and had her calf. By the time we found them in the morning, the calf was buried under a couple of feet of snow. It didn't survive. This year, we put her inside way ahead of time. The night it snowed, she had this one and I'm happy to say it's doing fine.

Does this new haircut make me sound fat?

2012-01-21T10:27:00.000-08:00

DH and I were recently chatting. He was telling me about meeting someone he has spoken to on the phone a number of times. He described him as being "a real big guy," and then added, "Funny. He didn't sound fat." Oh, dear. I didn't realize a person could sound fat. Did you?

Here's the Paint Chip Challenge, so far. I've picked some fabrics to go with the assigned colors (see them near the bottom center of the picture).

I've also figured out what I will DO with them ... but I'm not sure I'll show it until it's finished.

2012-01-19T06:05:00.000-08:00

"Kind" people sometimes ask me if my hair is naturally curly. It is naturally whirly. Or frizzy. Or just plain unruly, depending upon it's mood on any given day. I used to wear it very long in order to be able to tie it down in a ponytail, or snarl it up in a knot to keep it from scaring small children. But with aging and white hair comes a whole new set of hair craziness. I keep it pretty short these days, and my short hair is totally unpredictable. I never know what to expect when I get up in the morning. It may decide to lay poker straight and flat against my head, save a few boing-y strands for flair; or it may stand out as if I'd just licked the electrical outlet. Then again, it might wad itself up in tight kinks that would take a hot steam iron to unfurl. Ya' just never know. The problem is that my hair just gets bigger as it grows, until it reaches sufficient length to give it enough weight to cause it to lie down like normal hair.

Lately, I've been sporting a do that resembles a Frizzy Polish Bantam rooster (go to http://flatrock.org.nz/topics/animals/beauty_parlour_chicks.htm for some pretty funny chicken pictures and see what I mean).

I've started a project for our quilting guild's Paint Chip Challenge. We were each given a set of color chips from the paint store, and must use them in a quilt. What fun! The whole idea is to cause us to think outside our usual palette. The colors I got were calm, neutrals for the most part. We're allowed to add to the mix (Good thing. Cream, beige and brown -- or, Chalk Garden, Bianco and Spanish Brown -- as they are called on the paint chips, would be a little low key. Hey! I just realized they're nearly the colors I've used in my office. Nothing exciting in here, either.)

I've got a plan for my colors. I'm having fun with it. I just hope I don't manage to lose the paint chips before we have our group display at our quilt show in September. We're supposed to display them with the quilts to show that we've used the colors as given out. I was going to include some photos, but the battery in my camera is dead. I'll charge it up and post photos tomorrow.

Maybe just one more chapter?

2012-01-16T09:35:00.000-08:00

Did I hit the "post" button by accident? Dunno ... something happened.

Any way, I'm reading one of those books that has decided it owns me. I seldom read fiction, but this is a novel. This morning I decided I may as well concede to the winner of the battle for my time and attention, finish the book and be done with it. Then I can move on with my life.

I really only intended to read until it was time to go do barn chores, but grabbed the book after and thought I'd just read through breakfast. Well ... maybe I could read until I had to walk Tuck at 10:00. After the walk in the bitterly face-freezing wind, I decided I deserved a little time by the fire with the book.

I was interrupted by a phone call. From the Fixerman coming IN FIVE MINUTES to figure out why my internet service doesn't work properly. The ISP is the phone company here, so why couldn't he splurge with a long-distance call when he left the office this morning, to give me fair warning? (Do they even charge people for long-distance calls nowadays?)

Last night's dishes were in the sink; puddly paw prints from the dog on the dining room floor; scraps from yesterday's quilting still strewn in the LR. A layer of dust on my desk thick enough to write your name in, if you could find it under the mountains of paperwork waiting to be dealt with. Need I go on?

With the force of a tornado, I grabbed everything not nailed down and put it behind a closed door. I combed my hair and slipped on some clean jeans, with 30 seconds to spare before he pulled into the driveway. When he came in through the kitchen door, I was casually pouring myself a cup of coffee as if panic never crossed my mind. I'm sure he didn't notice that the dishwasher door was ajar because so much had been jammed in there in great haste that it could not be closed properly. I often curse that machine for leaving crumbs in the coffee cups, but in times like this, it's a great repository for evidence of my slothfulness, and for that I am grateful.

So Mr. Fixit determined that my modem was fried. Seems the off-again-on-again power struggle on Friday was enough to send it into a tailspin. It has been replaced. Now everything under the desk matches -- shiny black with eerie-green lights. Like creatures with glaring eyes in some horror movie. (Where did THAT come from? I do not know. Go ask your Mom. -- Sorry Dr. Seuss.)

I'll wipe up the enormous puddle Mr. Fixit left under the desk from his boots traipsing in through the snow. Then I'll go tidy up the kitchen, and get to work. But maybe just one more chapter first?

Hot diggity dog!

2012-01-16T09:33:00.000-08:00

Let's try that again ...

2012-01-15T14:45:00.001-08:00

I have only intermittent ability to get online and stay connected. My service turns off and on repeatedly, and did that just as soon as I typed the first line the last time. The ISP company is supposed to send someone to repair the lines in the next few days. I suppose I can make do until then. Here's what I was trying to post before:

How do I love thee?

Let me count the ways:
Baked, with onions.
Boiled and buttered.
Chunked with apples.
In a stew.
A creamy Autumn bisque.
Smashed with potatoes.
In a casserole, with coconut, almonds and brown sugar.

I have 17 of these jumbo butternuts left to deal with today. In case you can't tell, that squash measures 16 inches tall and about 7 inches across. It's a biggie. I've peeled, cut, cooked and frozen a lot, but now my wrists and hands ache. I'm tempted to pitch the rest out to the cows or chickens to be done with them. But I won't. I'll rest a while and then continue until they're all put safely away for another day.

On another note ...
First: the background to the story. One time DH went with me to Quilt Market and we attended a session presented by Eleanor Burns. He found her silly style quite amusing, as she pitched the scraps from cutting fabrics all over the place -- tossing them over her shoulder and saying funny things. Between other tasks today, I managed to cut out some of the pieces I'll need for a quilt I want to make. DH sat down and glanced at the pile of scraps I'd made on the carpet and said, "What kind of mess have you got here, Eleanor?" He thinks HE's very amusing.

I cannot show the quilt as it progresses, because it's going to be a gift for someone who peeks in here once in a while. I'm pretty certain the one day I post a photo will be the day for the giftee in question to take a peek. So for now, all you get to see is the pile of little scraps accumulating beside the chair where I sat to cut.

How do I love thee?

2012-01-15T08:12:00.001-08:00

A Surprise. A GOOD surprise ...

2012-01-13T10:05:00.000-08:00

A package came for me. I wasn't expecting anything, so it was a surprise.

Inside the box was another box.

And inside the 'nother box was a little velvet bag.

Do you like surprises? Well, then. I won't tell you what was in the little velvet bag. Next time you see me, you will figure it out.

I'm not typing all that again ...

2012-01-10T12:11:00.000-08:00

I have something rather longish I typed in another program, and planned to copy-and-paste post it here. It won't let me, for some reason I don't understand. I do it all the time, but not going to be doing it today, apparently. Tsk! Must be the cyberdemons have decided it's my turn to be the target of their torment. So until they get it out of their system, or I find a way around it, this will be brief. There's not too much going on around here, and certainly nothing worth speaking about.

I had a birthday last week.

Because I already had big plans for the day (a trip to the dentist for some shock and awe work), my friend brought me lunch on Friday. And flowers. And a Happy Birthday balloon. And a funny book of knitting cartoons. Yeah ... Franklin Habit's. He's very amusing.

There was so much food, there was enough for lunch again on Saturday. Even dessert. Ever heard of broccoli pesto? Me, either. I can say it was yummy, especially with some tortellini.

If the predicted storm holds off, I have two quilting events to attend in the next couple of days. There should be some eye candy after that, so c'mon back and sit a spell.

A Busy Day ...

2011-12-22T08:52:00.001-08:00

I have much to do today. It will be my last opportunity until January to get caught up on work, run errands, etc., unless I want to do it with a passel of grandkids in tow. I'm not complaining ... I can't wait! Since they're all in school now, our time with them is limited. I hate school. Winter Break begins tomorrow.
I think the whole system is messed up and turned around. For instance, when a couple is young and raising a family, THAT is when their income is at what will probably be the least in their lives, so for many, it's a continuous struggle to keep finances balanced. And school! (I hate school.) It should be the other way around. I should be able to say, "Sorry, but the boys and I want to go for target practice today. You'll have to plan your math class for another day." Or, "The girls and I want to bake some cookies and then shop for new shoes and fabric. We'll read a book when we get home. And tomorrow we'll be quilting. Saturday? Nope. No can do -- we have plans. You can have them for a science lesson from 2 til 4 on Sunday."
But in the real world, time with the grands is limited and they're growing up so fast. They'll soon have other things to do with their spare time; we must take full advantage of what opportunities we have with them now. So the next week and a half will be devoted to enjoying their visit. PaPa and I have been concocting what we hope will be a fun time for all. It's gonna be Junk Food City around here, too. I shopped to stock up on things not normally found in the house. My friend and I spent a whole day baking cookies in anticipation of our visit and her need for holiday gifties. You can read all about that day on her blog. http://beckysbiscuits.blogspot.com/2011/12/cookies-galore.html Just don't blame me for the Chocolate Nasties. We followed the recipe to a T. Not our fault they turned out that way. Every cookie jar and tin in the house is full, with spares in the freezer.
If you’re reading, Mom and Dad – don’t worry. There’s a mountain of fruit (we call our oldest grand The Fruit Bat), and a fridge full of veggies that will be pushed like drugs on a city street corner. Of course there’ll be mac and cheese, and pizza now that the youngest has “taught” me how to make pizza cheese from “big cheese” using “some tool” (box grater). But we’ll also have beef, lamb, chicken and turkey on a rotational basis. We’ll alternate garlic smashed with the French fries to even things out a bit.
I can't post photos of recent customer quilts for fear of spoiling someone's holiday surprise. But trust me, I've been busy! But tell me how that machine knows when I'm within inches of finishing the quilting? I can't tell you how many times I've run out of bobbin when I'm this close!

I can show you Charlotte F's first quilt, though.

Seems she sort of wandered close to a group of quilters and got sucked in. Now she's hooked, and dizzy with excitement over finishing this up in time to bring it for show and tell at their next meeting. The story is that everyone contributed scraps and each had to make a quilt from what they received. They had to use ALL the fabrics. Charlotte did a great job, wouldn't ya say?

Gotta run – see ya

I'm Going To Paa-ar-tay!

2011-12-19T05:47:00.000-08:00

My friend who always plans ahead and remembers things (like other people's birthdays) e'd me to see if we could make a plan for my upcoming birthday (not till next month). Well ... I have to brag about beating her in making plans this time! I've got a trip to the dentist all planned out for that day. Woo-hoo ... do I know how to celebrate, or what?!?

I'm tempted to re-schedule the dental event and take her up on the day out. It's going to be an all-out great time with Dr. L, I'm sure -- not just your everyday, run-of-the-mill cleaning and once-over-for-good-measure kind of thing. No, no! We've got big plans, complete with whirring drills and all that. If I'm lucky, we may even get to use that Electro-Scary tool again! Can I weasel out? Tempting. Very tempting.

I took in a few last-minute gotta-have-'em-for-Christmas quilts again this year. Today I should be able to finish up the last of those. I'm always amazed at how people can be so completely taken by surprise that December 25th arrives when it does. Is it my imagination, or has it always happened about this time every year? You'd think people would just get used to it ... expect it, even. But no. It comes as a frightening shock, over and over, year after year.

Here's a quilt that was NOT a Christmas bail-out thing. It was actually one of my favorites to work on. Not because of it's dazzling intricacy, but because of it's simple beauty. In the same way that a fresh-faced young woman can be so attractive, as compared to the glamour-girl who requires a pricey wardrobe and an entourage of beauty-maintenance masters to bring out the sparkle in her. It might just have something to do with the sunflowers. (I'm partial to those in the garden.) At any rate, everyone who's come here and seen it seems to be smitten in the same way.

Wait … what? I missed something!

2011-12-14T05:47:00.000-08:00

Looks like it’s going to be another one of THOSE days. Heaven, help me.

I was expecting a delivery yesterday. It didn’t come. No huge surprise, given that it’s the busiest time for shipping companies. I went online with the Tracking Number to see if I could figure out when it might come. Hey! It shows a “delivery confirmation.” Further investigation reveals that my package has been delivered to a furniture warehouse about 50 miles from here. Ugh … here we go!

I called the customer service number and, of course, got an automated system that asked for my tracking number. I repeated it multiple times, only to have that stinking thing tell me, “I’m sorry. I did not get that. Please say your tracking number.” Well, the tracking number is as long as my arm, and apparently that machine is hard of hearing. Trust me … this is NOT a happy way to start the day. I decided to go fetch a cup of coffee and start over. Second call produced the same results. No matter how many times I repeated that number, it didn’t work. So I just stayed silent. Then the machine asked if I would like “her” to transfer me to an agent. Well, yes … please and thank you.

It transferred me to a live person with the stereotypically foreign accent who apologized for the inconvenience it must be causing me, and who said he would have to transfer me to someone in another department. “Hold the line, please.” (I'm guessing, here. I really didn't understand a word he said.)

The transfer was to yet another automated call-taking piece of junk. It informed me that I could track my package online at www…
It ran thru a litany of services available online, and then rattled off a phone number I could call as an alternative. Wait … what? I missed something! It rattled that number off so fast I missed the ninth digit, and it did not give the option to have it repeated. Being determined to get thru this, I called again. This time, I said “Agent” when the machine asked me what I would like to do. (A trick I learned in one of my many previous escapades thru the automated phone system.) It worked!

A live person came on but, of course, would have to transfer my call. “But unfortunately, they don’t start until 7:00 in that department.” Having gotten this far, I told her that if it were likely they would actually START working (as opposed to hanging around the coffeemaker) at 7:00, I’d hold. I’d been at it for 30 minutes already, what’s another five?!? So hold I did. And, my faith in miracles was restored promptly at 7:00 by Rhonda. She picked up the phone and said she’d try to find my package. I told her that we already know where it is, the question is how are we going to get it HERE? I was to hold while she tried to call the place that now has my package. At 7 a.m., nobody was available to take the call and so Rhonda’s only recourse was to start a “tracer.” She needed to know the contents and value of the package, etc., etc. I told her it is thread.

“Red? Red WHAT?”
“THREAD.”
“Yes, but red WHAT?“
“Not red. Thread. THREAD! Like a person uses to sew with. Thread! Ever seen any of that, Rhonda?”

How long will that tracer process take? It can take up to eight business days. I sweetly (seriously! I promise I WAS sweet to Rhonda!) said I understand that mistakes are easily made, but they can be just as easily remedied. Just send someone to fetch the package and deliver it to ME. We don’t need to trace it, we need to fetch it. Just call the furniture warehouse back at 9:00 and tell them someone is coming, then DO it.

Okay … this is getting incredibly long, so I’ll cut to the chase. Rhonda sez “no can do.” I give up and go to the barn, now about an hour late for morning chores. And what do I find there? The old ewe who ALWAYS has twins that she cannot feed, isolating herself from the crowd. Oh, no! Here we go again …

Desperate times ...

2011-12-07T06:40:00.000-08:00

I have a friend who picks a group of movies to drop off for us when she comes -- some "action packed" ones for DH that have lots of noise, screeching tires, battling robots, gun fights, blood-thirsty aliens ... whatever. For me, there'll often be a history flick, and whatever else happens to be handy. She's not been here in a while, so we've pretty much blown thru the entire heap we had to choose from, viewing one each Saturday night together. This past weekend, we were down to the very last one: Jane Eyre, "a love story as fiercely intelligent as it is passionate." I chuckled when DH put the movie in to play out of desperation for something, ANYthing to watch. I was amazed and astounded that he stuck with it without falling asleep. About three-quarters of the way thru, though, he said, "This needs some action ... like a sword fight or something." Does that sound as funny to anybody else as it does to me? I'm still sniggling over that one.

Here's a glimpse of a quilt I spent a lot of time on recently.

I did a motif in each of the blocks, then put a coordinating swirly thing in the sashing. I was totally surprised to discover that the overall effect was that of a simple all-over design from the back. I guess I needn't have bothered to make things complicated for myself. Live and learn. It's Sue P's quilt, BTW.

Here's what took up my time this weekend ...

2011-12-05T09:18:00.000-08:00

She looks just like her Momma, no?

I can't seem to get a good shot of Paula's quilt, so these will have to do:

and closer:

Good news! The long-awaited quilt kit arrived today. Good thing I was here to Meet-N-Greet the delivery guy. He stood on the far side of his truck, peering around the corner (obviously wary of my dog who was gated onto the front porch). I doubt he would have ventured close enough to the house to drop the package, by the looks of things. He could have left the package on the back steps without having to go anywhere near the barking dog, but I doubt he would have figured that out all by himself. He was pre-occupied with being terrified. Funny how fear can suck all the sense out of a brain. But, in any case, I now have a MAJOR quilting project to keep me busy over the long winter months. Assuming there will be long winter months this year, of course.

You’ve GOT to be kidding me!

2011-12-02T05:13:00.000-08:00

By now, pretty much everyone is aware that the prices on just about everything are rising. The marketing geniuses (hmmm, should that be geniusi?) have come up with a scheme to disguise their rapidly increasing costs to consumers by making the packages smaller. Like the “quart” jar of mayo that, although it costs about a dollar-and-a-half more than it did about a year ago, is now something like 28 ounces. And the toilet paper that measures about a quarter- to half-inch smaller in width – they shaved some off and only raised the price of the roll “a little.” Or, how about the “pound” of coffee that only weighs 11 ounces? We’ve all got used to that. But now, push has come to shove.

On my previously noted trip to the feed mill, I saw they sell Muck boots. I wear those in the garden, and on muddy days. Since the August deluge, the mud has not YET dried up. More than once, I’ve lost one of those ankle-high Muck shoes in the mud. It’s not a pretty thing, and I only hope the neighbors don't notice how much bluer the sky looks when I have to step in that mud with only a sock on my foot while I try to retrieve the sinking shoe from an onslaught of trampling hooves. So … back to the feed mill story. They had an 8-inch version that was priced about ten dollars less than I usually pay for the short ones. Plus, I’d save more by not having to pay shipping. I grabbed a box with my size stamped on it, and was on my way.

This morning, I fetched the box from the back seat of my car, intending to wear my new boots to the barn and foil the mud. Oh, Happy Day! NOT. This is what I saw when I opened the box.

Please, PLEASE tell me they haven’t started selling boots as singles … I’m gonna die of frustration one of these days.

A new hat for MaMa ...

2011-12-02T03:41:00.000-08:00

I was in the middle of knitting a sweater that I started on a whim because I saw a photo of one someone else made. (My Compulsive Shopper thing kicked in.) It is knit as one piece up to the armpits, so the cast on was some hideous number of stitches. It's pretty much stockinette stitch except for a cable at the front opening, so gets kind of tedious, allowing for the wandering of an already easily-distracted mind. I started thinking about how nice it will be to arrive at the end of this sea of repetition, and wondered why I even started such a thing. I could have made a hat and been done with it. A hat. Yes. A hat. THAT is what this yarn should have been. So I left off the sweater and started a hat. (I'm old. I can do that, if I want to.)

Here's the hat:

And here's a picture of Rose's French Braid that she and Dave finished up here last week.

I think the photo should have been rotated, but, oh well. She pieces, he quilts with her supervision, and I bail them out when there's a problem. My camera was in hiding when they were here, so we used their cell phone. I took pics of them with the quilt, but they didn't forward those for posting. Hah! They're coming back soon, and I've found the missing camera. I'll get them in the next photos.

Meanwhile, back in the jungle ... yesterday was a Fire-Outputting day. The freezer in the cellar bit it. I'll spare you the details, but know I felt like I accomplished something major when I finally got all the stuff moved to another freezer with little loss. The afternoon was spent running mundane errands like banking and grain fetching from the feed mill. Bleh.

I've finished up a few more customer quilts and will get some photos of those to post later.

anything look familiar here?

2011-11-25T07:47:00.001-08:00

Not washed & blocked yet, and loose ends inside need to be dealt with. Still don't recognize anything? Here's a hint:

Yep ... wool from my sheep, now socks. I have a ton (literally) of wool spun into yarn. I decided yesterday to try it out. With a little practice, it is destined to become my favorite. The dark wool seems to be a bit finer than the white, so I'll need to figure out how they work together the best way possible. My goal is to make sweaters for everyone in my family from our home-grown wool. But I'm already old, so I'm not sure how that will work out.

Should I start with the smallest size, figuring that working from the smallest up will yield the highest number of finished products in shortest amount of time? Or should I work from the largest down, figuring they can be passed down as people grow into them? That might be the best plan. Then everyone can take a turn wearing the sweater, pass it along to the next in line, saying "Your turn to pretend you like hand-knit wool sweaters."

Maybe I should just make one for myself and see if anyone asks for their own. Yeah. That's the ticket!

She'll be ...

2011-11-18T07:28:00.000-08:00

… wearing hand-knit stockings when she comes …

* * * WARNING: rant follows. You DO know where your delete button is, right? * * *

Is this the new marketing trend? I keep getting messages from the big online book store, letting me know that books I may be interested in are available for pre-order. The first week of September I saw a quilt kit I thought was beautiful. After a couple of days of telling myself I didn’t need yet another project on the shelf, I caved and decided I really REALLY want it. So I went back to the website and saw that, not only was it a pre-order item, but the price had gone up by about $30. Well, that didn’t sit very well with me. It had only been a matter of about two or three days since I’d first considered it. So I went to the website of a major quilting fabric retailer and found it was there, as a pre-order item at the first price I had seen. So I ordered it. My heart’s desire became a gift to me. It was to be available mid-October. Perfect.

I also needed something to make for a baby friend, and found another quilt kit in a magazine and decided to order it online from the company who advertised it. Wow! It was on sale for half-price. My lucky day! So I ordered that on the same day as the first, but from this second company.

So forward to November 1. No packages arrived, so I called to find out why. The first company said that they were waiting on the manufacture for the pattern that goes into the kit. (Oh … please, take your time!) The second company said they were waiting on the manufacturer for the fabric that goes into the kit. (I do hope they’ve at least picked the cotton at this point, lest the baby be full grown by the time I make his crib quilt!)

It’s now past the midway point in November, and still my packages have not arrived. Yeah … I know … I could just cancel my orders to express my unhappiness with both of these companies. (Mind you, these are NOT small companies – they are the industry leaders. Otherwise, I’d be a bit more understanding, fully aware that stuff happens and things don’t always go the way it’s hoped.) I’ll try to wait it out, but trust me, I won’t be doing the pre-order thing again any time soon.

I recently read someone else’s rant about how the J-I-T method of managing inventory is not good for the economy. (It might have been on the Drudge Report.) I think they’ve now pushed the process even further. I’m opting out.

What's THAT about?!? ...

2011-11-17T08:17:00.000-08:00

Walking over to the studio for a day of quilting, I glanced down into the pasture and saw this:

King of the Hay Bale? Go figure. (There's always something nutty going on for my amusement.)

The day before, all the cows decided to hike over to the neighbor's farm for a visit. I managed to round them all up and bring them back home without much of an issue. The electric fence that is supposed to keep them in had been knocked down, probably by deer in the night. I thought the wire had been snapped because it was stretched across the road and dangling over a welded wire fence. My guess was that a deer got caught on it, and jumped the welded wire fence to escape, taking the electrified wire with it on it's hoof. I grabbed ahold of the wire, intending to re-attach it where it belongs, and ZOWIE! I found out it was still a live wire. Sparks flew. From my mouth.

I put the cows in the upper pasture because I had no desire to repeat that little scene. DH could take care of it, and I told him about it when he returned. He said he would fix it, after he came inside for a cup of tea and a snack first.

By the time he went back out, the cows had found their way out of that pasture by way of a gate that opens into the woods where he gathers firewood. He had left it open the day before, not thinking I'd put the cows back in that pasture for a while. They all headed down the road and paid the neighbor on the opposite side a visit this time. DH and the dog rounded them up again. Now we've all had some good exercise, a chat with the neighbors. I'm telling you, it's as good as a three-ring circus most of the time.

Pat still has some more work to do on her quilt, so no photos yet. But here's a glimpse of Shannon's Minkie Monkey quilt. That minkie fabric is incredibly soft, stretchy, and with deep pile. I had not quilted any before so was a bit apprehensive about working with it. It worked up without any problems caused by the fabric's characteristics. Nice surprise. See the monkeys? They're swinging in banana trees, and that design coordinates with the fabrics on the front of the quilt, which I have no photos of to share with you.

Comfy!

2011-11-16T03:22:00.000-08:00

And here we have Leftovers:

Looks like socks, to me! I couple of years ago, I knitted a sweater for GS1. I've never seen it since, but I'm sure he's outgrown it by now. I remember that the yarn was soft and squishy -- the way I like my socks.

Pat C is coming back today, and we hope she'll get her starry quilt finished. Stay tuned for photos.

She's absolutely right!

2011-11-14T08:03:00.001-08:00

Brenda S commented that when she was in school, those experiments were done with plenaria. She's absolutely right -- that's what they were (not euglena)! (google it if you wanna see some regeneration images ... they will grow a second head if you split them. Ugh! Who thinks these things up? And how did someone ever discover those odd little things to experiment on?!? I guess I'd better go google it some more to re-remember).

Well, Brenda came and got a couple of quilts done Sunday. The first went without a hitch; the pawprint quilting pattern was just the ticket for the cat print.

Although you cannot see the print on the back of this, it’s got little toy vehicles, and we found a pattern with the same theme for the quilting. Very cute.

Tip for the day: if your scissors go missing, find them before you proceed.
Sock progress: when I get to this point (closing up the toe), “She’ll Be Coming ‘Round the Mountain” starts running thru my head, over and over till I finish it up. So finish it up I must, lest I go completely crazy from the repetition in my brain.

a what?!? ...

2011-11-09T09:53:00.000-08:00

DH uses this tool when caulking. I saw it lying in the bathtub during one of his recent projects and asked, "Doesn't that thing look like a euglena?"

"A what?"

"A euglena. You know, those things that you can cut the head in half and it will regenerate so it has two heads."

"What ARE you talking about?!?"

Okay, so is it just me, or did anybody else have to do that in first level biology class?

Here are some pics of the two quilts I mentioned in my last post -- note the dates, etc. Handquilted antiques (owner accepting offers).

Dated Sept. 07, 1888

That edging is either tatted or crocheted. (How does one tell the difference?)

Like riding a bike ...

2011-11-08T04:57:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, in the studio, Becky did a "test drive" of my binding instructions while she waited for me to give Pat a quick refresher on the Avante (longarm quilting machine). Becky's never done a binding before, so she was the perfect candidate to try to follow the directions. I'm glad she was able to figure it out -- makes me more confident that my upcoming demo for the quilt club will be okay. While Pat quilted, Becky and I made some progress on her quilt. It's coming out nicely, and we're nearly ready to put it on the machine and let her have at it. It's time to choose a quilting design. Decisions, decisions!

So here's Pat's accomplishment for the day:

It's been a year since she's been here, but I only had to remind her how to get started and then off she went. It's like riding a bike ... you never forget. I've gotta tell you: this quilt is 97x114 inches and by choosing a simple yet pretty pattern, she got it quilted in a day and didn't even have to skip lunch to do it! Nice job, Pat!

I've got some quilts to show everyone. They belong to a fellow I used to work with many moons ago. His home along the river was ruined in the recent flooding, but thankfully, these quilts survived unharmed.

Two of them are antiques. I'll get some photos later today and post them for the viewing pleasure of all. That will have to wait until after I take some time to scare the socks off Dr. L again this morning. Oh, the power I have in the dentist's chair!

She's done it again ...

2011-11-06T09:48:00.000-08:00

Penny came one day last week to quilt one she's put together for the shop that is collecting quilts for flood victims of Owego, NY. She made it from scraps of others she's done, using a simple pattern that goes together quickly but is still pretty. She chose a swirl pattern for quilting that was just the right touch to make it fancy, and was finished in less than three hours.

All she has left to do now is the binding, and she expects to have it done in an evening. I hadn't heard about the effort to collect quilts, so had nothing to contribute besides time in the studio. How did I NOT hear about it?!? I need to get out more.

A good read; a new sock ...

2011-11-05T04:03:00.000-07:00

I finished reading Killing Lincoln ... (Bill O'Reilly and Martin Dugard) last night. It tells the story of Abraham Lincoln's assassination, beginning six weeks prior to the event. It was a good read. Reviews I read say it's not always technically accurate in details, like which room what happened in at the White House, but I'm not sure that's important. At least not to me. I'm not a researcher nor an investigator trying to solve any controversy. I was just looking for something that could hold my interest for a couple of nights. This book fit the bill, for sure. I couldn't put the thing down.

They say O'Reilly was once a history teacher. If all high school history teachers had his knack, school could be much more interesting for American students. A teacher can make all the difference in the world, according to how well they can bring a subject to life. That brings to mind a few of my history teachers when I was in school. My American History teacher in HS had to be the absolute worst. (Sorry, Mr. F, but it's absolutely true.) He was lazy. And full of himself. He spent more time bragging about himself than doing any teaching. He had a "policy" of giving out a certain number of As, Bs, Cs, etc. He doled them out more according to how well he liked/disliked a student more than anything else. This teacher didn't TEACH anything. He assigned reading every day, then gave quizzes whenever he ran out of stuff about himself to talk about in class. I'm telling you, he was THE worst teacher, ever!

One of my best friends in that class openly flirted with him to "earn" her A every marking period. I usually got a B. One day I confronted him about his grading system. He admitted that it WAS ridiculous, but said he had no intention of changing it. So, being the bold brat that I was and probably still am, I told him I wanted an A on the next report card, indicating that unless I got it, there would be trouble. I got the A. How gross is that?!?

In college, I had the same professor for sociology and Russian history. After several weeks that semester, I received notice that I was to meet him in his office one day. He asked me why there was such a discrepancy between my performance in sociology and that in Russian history class. Asking him to pardon my bluntness, I had been wondering the same thing about him. I explained that the way he taught sociology put me to sleep. Literally. I used to ask my friends sitting nearby in the crowded, too-warm lecture hall to poke me if I dozed. No joke. The class was crowded only because it was a required course. I suspected he got stuck teaching something he didn't have any interest in. (They had a problem filling all the teaching positions that year.) His presentation of Russian history, on the other hand, was a thrill a minute! Seriously. Full of mystery, intrigue, facts I'd never heard before, and I marveled at his amazing knowledge.

I thought that I was certain to have the Riot Act read to me, but his comment was, "Fair enough." And in fairness to him, he did make an effort to keep me awake in sociology class after that. I managed to get thru the class with an average grade, while I got what they called "high honors" in his Russian history class. I'm telling you, it's all about the teacher.

And with that note, I'll quit my rant about teachers and show you what I'm doing to continue my effort to reduce the stash:

I have just a couple of balls of this yarn. It's 100 percent wool and will make warm, cozy socks. One can never have too many of those! There's enough yarn to make both socks to match, but I'm pretty sure that wouldn't matter to me. I intend to use up odds and ends to increase my hoard of sockage while decreasing the stash of yarn around here. If that means I have one of a kind, all the better! Whoever made up the rule that socks must match ought to have been ousted from rule-making right at the beginning. How much more interesting the wearing of socks would be today!

Red Bull, of a different sort ...

2011-11-02T04:09:00.000-07:00

Red Bull with mama, Little Red :

-- November 1: a sunny day for his debut.

New Red with mama, Big Red:

she refuses to stay inside. She is bigger than I am (a little, at least). She wins.

Becky came yesterday to work on her quilt, and brought this beauty for Show & Tell:

It is a generations-old quilt made by the womenfolk of her family and recently given to her by her grandmother. It is in beautiful condition, having been cherished by the ladies in whose hands it has been for so many years. It actually skipped a generation, and I'm guessing that's because it is obvious Becky is one who will appreciate the gift. Lucky girl, that Becky!

Something new ...

2011-10-31T13:56:00.000-07:00

I took this picture early this morning, before the sun had a chance to finish melting our snow.

I think the way it froze after starting to melt away yesterday is interesting. Looks like the "snow" icing on a gingerbread house, doesn't it? I never realized it happens in real life that way.

Here's New Red, with her mama, Big Red. Late this morning, Big Red broke through a fence in order to make her way down to the bottom of the pasture where she prefers to have her calves. I knew today would be the day, because before I even went out for chores early this morning, I could hear her "talking" to the calf. So far, everything seems to be okay, except BR doesn't seem to want to be confined inside the barn. She's a HUGE animal, and if she decides to break a door down, it won't take much effort on her part. Let's hope she can settle down for a few days, until the little 0ne gets the hang of things. I have to go give her some nice, clean bedding. Maybe that will help.

Well, then ...

2011-10-28T14:12:00.000-07:00

We live in a place that I'm pretty sure rivals Siberia when it comes to weather. Our first frost date in the Fall is September 10th. Planting anything here save the most hardy things before the very end of May is risky. This year's weather was one for the record books -- and not in a good way, because of way too much rain.

But we actually got a reprieve this month. We had only light frost until last night. Having heard the weather report earlier in the week, I ran to fetch the last of whatever was lingering in the garden. I found a zucchini plant with six good fruits, a plastic grocery bagful of peppers, and eleven cabbages.

The cabbages were last, and got snowed 0n before I grabbed the last of them:

So now it appears that Winter is going to make up for lost time. The National Weather Service is saying we can get up to six inches of snow tomorrow. That's okay for me, though. I've got a good book to read, a knitting project on the needles, the apple pie I promised DH in the oven, and a pot of hearty soup on the stove. I hope those who don't have the option of staying home will at least be safe wherever they are.

It’s all I can stacks, ‘cause I can’t stacks no more!

2011-10-28T08:17:00.000-07:00

The pile is big. It's two layers deep, and over my head. DH came home yesterday and asked how I got the wood up that high -- with a ladder?!? No, actually I tossed it up.

He's always amazed when I do something that requires Amazonian strength. Still. After all these years. It reminds me of one day he came home thru a blizzard. We had about three feet of heavy, wet snow everywhere. He went upstairs and glanced out the window, then called to me. "Look! The snow all melted off the kitchen roof! No place else -- just the kitchen roof!" (The kitchen is a one-story addition at the back of the house.)

Well, du-uuh! I had worked my tailfeathers off, shovelling the snow off that roof before he got home. He said that, knowing my fear of height, he would never have suspected I'd get up there and do that. Well, yes. I am afraid of heights. But I'm even MORE afraid of having the kitchen ceiling collapse upon my head from the weight of that snow.

So ... back to the wood pile. He admired it for a bit, and then asked me how I was going to get it back down when I need it. Good question. Well ... we DO have ladders.

And here's my latest project:

I started it with yarn from my stash, only to discover that even though I had way more than was called for, it was going to run out before I got finished. Of COURSE, it had to be yarn I had purchased a couple of years back and that the color is now discontinued. (You KNEW it could be no other way with me, right?) So I went online and searched. And searched. And searched some more. Nobody has any more. In fact, I found a request that had been posted on a forum a couple of years ago by someone in the exact same predicament. I was tempted to send her a message asking for any scraps she may have left, in the event she was able to get the additional ball she needed back then. But, this story has a happy ending: I e'd the manufacturer who put me in touch with a vendor who happened to have some left. Of course, the last ball cost as much as the rest all put together, and I had to pay a hefty fee for S&H, but ... I'm happy. The project is for my littlest GD, and it looks like I'll be able to finish it before she outgrows it! Woo-hoo!

If Iceland can do it, why can’t we?

2011-10-26T04:17:00.000-07:00

I just read that in Iceland, one can purchase wool yarn for knitting right in the grocery store. Knowing that Dr. L (my dentist) has travelled there, I asked him if it were, in fact, true. He confirmed it. Now THAT’s my kind of place!

Speaking of the dentist, I paid my visit on Monday as I said in my last post. Dr. L earned his fee from me that day! In fairness to myself, I have to reiterate the fact that I, upon my first consultation with him, gave him fair warning that I am the kind of patient that made other dentists break into a cold sweat when they worked on me. He laughed. He thought I was kidding. Until Monday.

Hitherto, I’d been just breaking him in with the small stuff, like root canals. He kept his cool through those, so it was time to really test his mettle. When he began to hum mid-way through the procedure, I knew his resolve to stay strong was beginning to waiver. (FYI: It’s NEVER a good thing when the dentist begins humming in an attempt to make it seem like everything’s going smoothly during a procedure. If you want to know how it is REALLY going, watch the chairside assistant’s face. If she goes pale, no amount of humming will mask reality. If she turns aside, as if she suddenly remembers she has to polish up a tool or re-stock the gauze pads in the cupboard, you can bet the doctor will break into a sweat any minute now.) So where was I? Oh, yeah … Sure enough, Dr. L finished up the job at hand and then hurriedly made off for his next appointment. He was swiping his brow as he tossed me a “Ta-ta!” and fled. He has two weeks to recuperate before I go back for my next appointment.

I took the rest of the day off, myself. Then yesterday, I quilted the largest wallhanging I’ve ever done:

It’s Laurie W’s, and she made it for a friend who, she affirmed, has a very large wall to hang it on. This photo shows just a small portion of the quilt, but it’s really large enough for a queen-sized bed. With overhang.

And here’s Julie N’s quilt, ready to be delivered to a grandchild: (It’s not really shaped like an hour-glass, it’s just draped over a chair for the photo shoot.)

Leave some for seed ...

2011-10-24T05:24:00.001-07:00

As of Friday:

I left some for seed:

It worked!

Must go ... much to do today. (The dentist hasn't seen me in a little over a week, and is having withdrawal symptoms, so I must go pay him a visit. Then I can come back and quilt. Unless today's visit does me in. Hopefully, more quilt photos tomorrow.)

How nice ...

2011-10-13T04:15:00.000-07:00

These pansies were the first flowers to greet me this year when they first blossomed in the earliest Spring. They were kind enough to re-seed themselves from last year's garden. And they are still holding up, even though our weather this year has been torture for most other living things. I just think they're so pretty! And like happy little faces that bring their own sunshine. Hmmm ... there seems to be a life lesson in there, no? I think everyone should have some pansies, somewhere.

And look at this tree. It is having it's own little party! A celebration, for sure! I wonder what secrets it has and is not telling, except for this sudden burst of excitement. Everyone should have such a secret.

And here's what was printed inside a card on what should have been my son's birthday, given by a dear friend who makes a point of "being there." Everyone should have a friend like that.

Although we smile and make no fuss,
No one misses him more than us;
And when old times we oft recall,
That’s when we miss him most of all.
-- author unknown

Incoming ...

2011-10-12T08:19:00.000-07:00

This is next in queue:

It's Jean R's quilt, but DH thinks it should be mine. He says it looks like something I would have done, and I suspect that's mostly because it's basically pink and green. Some people think I have a proclivity toward all things pink-and-green. Hmmmphf!

(for best effect, one should utter "Hmmmphf!" in the highest pitch possible, while spinning 180 degrees around on one foot, to emphasize indignation)

From the Leaps and Bounds Department:

(note: I'm caught up, so far. And at this point, there's enough to last through December. We'd better get a move on if we're to have enough to get through till mid-April, at least. We often have our worst snow storms in April here, so it's better to be prepared to hold out until mid-May.)

He cuts, I stack, we burn ...

2011-10-10T06:15:00.000-07:00

... and so it begins. Firewood season. So far, we've resisted starting a fire, but got close a couple of nights last week when the frost was on the pumpkins. Hey! That's what we knit wool sweaters for, right? But one of these days -- and I'm guessing it won't be long now -- we'll have to close some windows and start a fire in the woodstove.

We're way behind in gathering firewood this year, since the weather has been a bit much for the most part, since early Spring. We're on course to have a record-breaking year for rainfall. It's an absolute horror to get the tractor stuck in mud up in the woods, so DH hasn't risked it.
So far:

Don't scoff. It's a start! My goal this year is to stack it as fast as he can cut it. I know I'm dreaming, but it's good exercise, and one where immediate results can be seen. In the woodpile, that is. It is very satisfying to see it grow by leaps and bounds.

Wanna see the best woodpile ever? click on the link:
http://www.funnychill.com/thumbs/cd07809ff49d.jpg
Some people are so clever!

And did you ever see the NYC traffic cops on TV who look like they're doing a specially choreographed bit directing traffic thru the busy city? I wish we could get one of them to come work in Wysox/Towanda. The traffic there is soooooo annoying lately. At least it would be entertaining to get stuck in traffic if we had one of those dancing cops here.

Add ten for accuracy ...

2011-10-07T09:03:00.000-07:00

DH, the dog and I went for a walk yesterday afternoon. DH wanted to check on the progress of the well on the farm next door. I just wanted to get some movement after sitting on my butt most of the day. Tuck wanted to be free to re-mark his territory, after the neighbor dogs used his favorite spots.

I had been to the dentist and told DH what has to happen there next, for me. (Don't ask.) I relayed the message the dentist had for him: "Tell Andy it looks like he's going to have to work until he's 85 to pay for all this." We -- the dentist and I, knowing that DH has started a somewhat premature countdown to retirement -- thought it was very funny. DH: not so much.

All of that chatter led to a discussion about how annoying it is to be getting older and falling apart at the seams. Conclusion: we'd both be better off if we'd just lose 20 pounds. Each. DH said we need to buy a new bathroom scale. Being the cheapskate that I am, I said, "No we don't. If you just add ten pounds to whatever it reads, it's right in line with the doctor's scales."

He: "WHAT?!? That means I weigh ___ (number omitted, for obvious reasons)?!? I've NEVER weighed THAT much!"

Me: "So what does THAT tell you?"

The poor man ate a light supper when we got back, and went to bed early.

You just can't make this stuff up.

What? Say that again ...

2011-10-05T06:37:00.000-07:00

Long ago and far away, there was a little boy who liked to talk on the telephone but didn't always get a good grip on the receiver. It would slip away from his ear, and he'd miss a part of the conversation. He'd then say, "What? What did you say? Say that again to me?"

That's what I felt like saying the other night when a commercial for some kind of medicine came on during the nightly news I was sorta watching (albeit half-heartedly, while paying more atention to my knitting). Did you ever notice that at that hour, most commercials are aimed at the older crowd? AARP, laxatives, prescription medications you should run and ask your doctor to prescribe for you, etc., etc. Often, they'll run at warp speed through a list of side effects for these wonder drugs at the end of the commercial. During one, I heard them say something like, "ask your doctor if it is safe for you to take this ... if you ... live in an area where certain fungal blahblahblah is prevalent ..."

What? What did you say? Say that again to me? WHAT fungal (something)? And WHERE is it prevalent? Are they talking about North America? What part? HOW prevalent IS it?!? Who knows this stuff??? Am I supposed to be aware? Should I worry? Why didn't they just say, "don't use this product if you live on the 100-block of Main Street in ___ City" -- or something? Why are they so vague? For crying. Out. Loud. Off with their heads! (DH's new favorite cry when anyone annoys him.)

Cathy B was here Monday. She got two quilts done and expects to put them in her guild's show that will hang the whole month of November. This large twin-sized one, believe it or not, was pieced by her 8-and-a-half year old granddaughter! She did all but the outer borders by herself, Cathy tells us.

And this is Cathy's queen-sized:

Nice work, Cathy! I'll plan to visit the Biennial Exhibition at Steele Memorial Library, 101 E Church St. Elmira, NY to see it and the other quilts there.

Problem solved?

2011-09-20T08:42:00.000-07:00

This is my newest kitchen gadget. It's about nine inches long and two wide. The little white box allows the stuff being grated to be held in place without losing a layer of the hand doing the grating. I love it! It's for slicing garlic, and works wonderfully for that. But notice the grating section on the right. I'm so excited!

Recently, we had the horrible flood of 2011 that put the power here out for a day. Our phone still worked, and our son called to see how we were getting along. (I should re-phrase that, I suppose. That looks like he might have been concerned whether DH and I were at each other's throats. No ... he was asking how we were managing without power.) Anyway ... he commented that this would be a good test of our emergency preparedness.

I told him that I had already learned one thing I'd not done right. I need to stop buying only whole coffee beans! I have an old-fashioned percolator and a gas stove that will light with a match, so we're good on that front. I use a little electric grinder every morning to make my brew from coffee beans. Not good in a power outage. The thought ran through my head to use my old-fashioned cheese grater that has four sides, one a fine grating section. Not a good plan, unless you like knuckle skin in your coffee. Ghack!

Now, in an absolute emergency during which I might have to go without coffee for an extended period of time, I COULD improvise using this handy, dandy little gadget. (You'd think I'd wean myself from the vile stuff instead, wouldn't ya? I did it once, by drinking hot water with lemon. Yeah -- go figure!)

As promised ...

2011-09-20T04:15:00.000-07:00

A picture of Linda and her finished quilt:

Civil War repro fabrics; tons of custom quilting
(pattern available from Aunt Sass’s Quilts - Waverly, NY)

Linda tackled this huge quilt as the first project on the computerized machine. She took an introductory class on the machine and then dove right in, using many advanced techniques and learning as she went. Linda encountered lots of "learning opportunities" in the process. To top it off, she even had to be rescued by her DH and taken home because while she was here, the roads she'd use to get home flooded. Having lots of coffee (for me) and chocolate (for her) on hand helped. She stuck with it and got 'er done. Good job, Linda! Have fun binding that one!

I've created a monster ...

2011-09-19T04:06:00.000-07:00

When the weatherman warns of impending frost threatening our gardens, country minds turn to squirrelling away supplies for winter. It's time to gather in everything we can, and to figure out a way to keep it from spoiling.

Tomatoes get canned. Or frozen, if there's enough space in the freezer. (Not here. Not this year. The water bath canner is getting a workout this week.) PaPa can't keep up with all the pickles, even with help from our little pickle-eater. I think he tries to eat them as fast as I can make them, just so I have to do it all over again to have any to store away. With freezer space at a premium, the only veggie going in there now is broccoli. Just can't even THINK about canning it. Ugh.

Some years we get no grapes from our vines. Probably because of the way I do the pruning. (Badly.) This year, we have lots. I picked and made juice; canned it. That's always a treat in the middle of winter. I can't even guess how many gallons we must've gone thru when my kids were young. One time, a jillion years ago, my mother made a concord grape pie. It was delicious, so I asked for her recipe. You wouldn't believe the nonsense involved in that! You have to squeeze the grapes outta their skins (oh ... but don't toss them ... you'll need them later), remove the tenacious little seeds, boil stuff, add stuff ... whew! Eventually, you wind up with an incredible pie. But you will have earned it!

After MD died, I gave the cookbook from whence the grape pie recipe came to a young friend who collects cookbooks. And actually USES them. She made the pie this weekend. You can read her tale here: http://beckysbiscuits.blogspot.com/

I made sauerkraut for the first time in about 30 years, and only because I saw P. Allen Smith do it in a way that doesn't involve crocks of fermenting cabbage stinking up the whole house. I did that once. If you think making concord grape Pie is bad, try THAT one on for size!

Anyway ... while I was fussing about in the kitchen, DH came in and started rummaging around for something sweet. I told him that if he'd pick some apples, I'd make him a pie. He did. I did. And the last of that pie went into his lunchbox for work today. As he readied for work, he commented that when he gets back home, he's going to pick some more apples. Uh-oh. I think I've created a monster.

Our local quilt guild had to cancel the show we had planned because of the massive flooding around here, so I found myself with some extra time. I jumped into my car and made the long trip (made longer by detours around damaged roads) down to visit my son and his family. The next morning, he and I tooted over to the quilt show down near Philly. Just a hop, skip and a jump from his house! How cool is that?!? I grabbed the makings of a wallhanging I've had in mind for two years now while I was there. And a new ruler-gadget. And little else. What restraint! Oh ... and I saw Aunt Cass's patterns on display at a vendor's booth. Woo-hoo! Cathie and Linda are playing with the big boys now!

Linda K got her huge quilt finished. It looks great! I'll post a picture as soon as I figure out where I left the camera. Promise.

A Storm At Sea ...

2011-09-11T07:31:00.000-07:00

The past week here was a total washout. We had over 10 inches of rain on Wednesday, thanks to the tropical storm Lee passing by and being held in place over the northeast by a hurricane out in the Atlantic. Or at least, that's what I thought they said was the cause on the TV weather report. My son called that day to see if our animals were lining up in pairs yet. (If we got flooded out up on our hill, they surely would be!)

The storm left a path of devastation worse than that which was seen as a result of the horrible Hurricane Agnes in this area back in 1972. Many people's homes were left in a state of disaster. It's heart-wrenching to think of the loss and the aftermath. It all happened so fast, folks really didn't have time to prepare for the flooding, and barely had time to escape the rising waters themselves in some places. Thankfully, the only problem we suffered here was a few inches of water in the cellar. Not enough to cause any real damage.

Isn't it kind of ironic that the last quilt that got finished here before the storm was Cyndi F's Storm At Sea? It turned out beautifully, and she sent a photo just like she promised:

Screw the cabbages!

2011-09-09T08:22:00.000-07:00

No ... really! If you have a lot of cabbage in the garden and are getting way too much rain (like we are), give them a quarter-turn. It will keep them from cracking.

Tuesday's Shopping Horror Story: I was in a DIY store, had a long-handled item in my cart and headed toward the check-out. A young-ish woman was near the end of the aisle I was in, and as I approached her, she backed up to the center of the aisle and dialed a call on her cell phone. When I got close, she didn't bother to move over a tad so I could pass, so I politely said, "Excuse me." Not pushy, not loud, not anything. I couldn't believe it when she spun around and huffed something very rude at me. I don't know what came over me, but I stopped dead in my tracks. Thought for a half-second, and then turned to her and said, "Is there a problem?"

She snapped back, "You DON'T have to knock me down!"

?!?What? I didn't even brush against her as I passed. I would have, at this point, liked to knock her down. This woman, who like so many others nowadays, could not make it through a stop in the store without making a cell phone call, was rude enough to block the whole aisle to do it, and barked at ME for politely trying to pass her. She was not such a large person that she needed all the space available -- she just had no concern for anybody but herself. Grrrrr. So I said I asked her to excuse me so I would NOT have to knock her down to get by. She snarled, "Do you MIND? I'm on the phone."

I had to leave. I wanted to shove her phone where the sun doesn't shine. Shopping just does NOT bring out the best in me. Then I had to go to five, yes FIVE different stores to find cat wormer. Even the pet store had none.

It was one of those days when I had a jillion errands to do, and many stores to stop at to get everything on my list. It was also one of those days when the cash registers and/or cashiers broke down just as I approached. If I were rich, I'd definitely hire someone to shop for me. I'd rather shovel manure any day than shop.

My last stop was the grocery store. There too, a woman was blocking the aisle. She did NOT have a cell phone in hand. As I approached, SHE said excuse me and moved so I could pass. Thankfully! My view of humanity somewhat restored.

More fiber than the cereal aisle …

2011-09-06T03:32:00.000-07:00

We’ve been eating mostly just what comes from the garden lately. Mmmm-mmm! Gotta love this time of year! I give myself permission to disregard the weeds in favor of using my time to harvest and prepare as much as I can. The freezer is at max capacity, so it’s time to go into the canning mode. Talk about a time-consuming occupation! I certainly can see why home-cooked meals have fallen so far into disfavor. Not only does it take so much time, but the clean-up is enough to kill. At least, if you’re trying to clean up MY kitchen after I’ve spent a day in it. I’m a slob. No getting around it. But I’m also a pretty good cook, if I DO say so myself. I wish I could find some sucker who’d agree to clean up for me in exchange for room and board.

Our quilting guild is having a show in a few weeks. Here’s my entry:

Do you think I’ll get it finished in time? The optimist in me says I will. The realist in me says “no way.” Oh … you didn’t know about my multiple personalities? Not in the clinical sense, mind you, but there’s certainly more than one side to my story. One of the ladies here recently asked me if I work well under pressure. Is there any other way? Who knew?!?

Cyndi F came and did a queen-sized quilt in a day here last Thursday. My camera was in hiding at the moment. She promises to send a photo we took with her phone, and I’ll post it when I get it – very nice Storm At Sea, quilted with a wavy design to carry on the theme.

Linda M was here the same day, but didn’t get finished so will return tomorrow. She’s busy with an original design by Cathi W – done in Civil War repro fabs and custom quilting. It’s a ton of work, but will be spectacular when she gets it done. You’ll know when that happens – the sigh of relief will surely be heard ‘round the world. I'll bet you can see it at the quilt show September 24-25 ( http://www.emqg.org/2011show.html -- they are vending patterns there).

What shall I do with this mess?!?

2011-09-02T13:40:00.000-07:00

HE wants steak and french fries for dinner. Tsk!

What is not apparent by the photo is that this is a LARGE amount of food. That bucket of yellow beans is about 10x12x8 inches deep, and overflowing. And this is just today's load. We seem to be blessed with an abundance, in spite a year of set-backs due to illness and weather that has gone haywire.

The geese got their fill of tomatoes spoiled by slugs and the nasty pears that dropped to the ground. The cows will get the over-grown squash and cukes. They line up and wait outside the garden fence to see what the day's harvest will provide for them. I swear I can't turn my back on the cukes or squash. Seemingly overnight they go from eyeball size to boats and flying saucers.

I've got a mess of pickles ready to process. Gotta get that done before it gets too late. You know what they say ... make pickles while the sun shines! (or was that hay?) Anyway, gotta do it.

And where, may I ask, did everybody go? I seem to remember someone saying that she'd come harvest the garden if I'd grow it. Another wanted to come do the canning with me. And there were a number of "followers" on this blog. They've all disappeared! Don't tell me I missed The Rapture!

One of two ...

2011-08-23T15:40:00.000-07:00

Tina B left two for me to quilt. She chose a dogwood pattern for this one. These colors would work in my dining room. I never yet have asked for payment up front when I do a quilt. I figure that if someone doesn't pay me, I'll just keep the quilt!

Sometimes I wish I could get a quilt that way. I almost got one. I kept the finished quit here for almost two years, not having been able to track the owner down by phone, email, or otherwise. But then ... wouldn't you just KNOW it?!? The owner called and came for it just about when I thought it was mine.

(That's the back.)
Now for Tina's other quilt ... gotta get them finished before she shoves off for school.

Things are a'changin' ...

2011-08-20T12:22:00.000-07:00

THAT'S for sure. The economy. The world scene. The way people communicate. Or don't (as in, pretending to be tied up by another call so they don't have to take yours, or hanging up in the middle of a call and pretending they lost service. Ugh! There's even an app/program to facilitate the farse). But that's not all.

There was a time, no so long ago, when an entry in a quilt show that was machine quilted wouldn't get a second look without criticism and the word "cheating" flung about. Now it's rare to see anything but. Hand-quilted is (almost always) beautiful, but is becoming a thing of the past for the most part. Except for a few hold-outs, pretty much everyone has come to accept machine quilting as every bit as much an art form, and even if the quilt is not the winner of a spectacular award, we admire them in every quilt show. Kelly was back yesterday, and did another Hunter's Star, this one done by a different technique than yesterday's. Both were the result of classes offered by our local quilt guild.

(We see you back there, Kelly!)

Another thing that has changed in one generation became apparent to me today. I stopped for gas in our local area. Mind you, some people think that we're so far out in the boondocks that even the crows fly backward here. When we came here some thirty-odd years ago, the Amish neighbors would sometimes stop and ask if they could use our phones because they would not have one in their homes back then. After ten years or so, I got a call from my Amish neighbor/friend down the road, telling me they were now "allowed" to have a phone in the barn and she was so tickled she just had to call SOMEone. I was probably the only one she could call without incurring a fee back then, because practically everything here is/was a toll call. Back to today: I pumped my gas and went inside to pay for it. Standing in line in front of me were two young Amish men, and one of them had a CELL PHONE on his hip! I probably chuckled right out loud. It tickled me.

Do you knit? You're in good company! God knits. (KJV Col. 2:19, if you wanna see for yourself)

We feel like cannibals ...

2011-08-18T15:57:00.000-07:00

We ate the eggplant baby. So, I'm the kind of nutball who gets sentimental over things like that, and felt bad about dismantling and eating the thing. I was surprised, tho, when DH said he felt like a cannibal.

Kelly came and got one of her quilts done today. She told us she made it something like ten years ago. The raspberry fabric is just gorgeous -- looks like suede. Wish I could find some of it! I have no idea what for, but it's so pretty I'd just like to have it, even if I never use it in a quilt -- although, of course, that is what I would pretend I was buying it for. Before she took off, she loaded up another quilt and will be ready to get to work on it tomorrow morning.

And me? I got next to nothing accomplished. I started a quilt, hesitantly, because I was unsure of what to do on it. So I spent most of my afternoon chatting with a dear friend who dropped by. Maybe I'll solve the problem of uncertainty by "sleeping on it " (the idea, not the unfinished quilt).

A bit of a snag ...

2011-08-17T17:28:00.001-07:00

I'm in the process of weaning my two bottle lambs, and have run into a bit of a snag. I don't like to just suddenly quit feeding them, so my plan has been to feed them less and less often until we're down to nothing. That's how I always do it. But I'm afraid I've run into a bit of a snag this time. These two little guys are smarties. When time comes that they expect a feeding, they come to the pasture gate and baaa-aaa-aa until I come out. Until today, that is. Now they've decided they know where I live and there's no sense waiting for me to come out -- they come calling. They squeeze through the gate boards and run across the road, up to the house and make their demands. Good grief. As if having all these critters to take care of isn't enough ... now I'll have to put up with them calling for me at the kitchen door! This certainly complicates things for me. Whatever shall I do when it is time to part with them, after they play the part of best friends who'll come calling?!? Oh, dear ... it's going to make a hard thing even harder, I'm afraid.

Julie S says she can't wait to see her finished quilt, so here's a photo of it for her.

I'm rather fond of her color combination, even though I would never have thought it up for myself. This close-up shows the quilting:

Shootin' the pig ...

2011-08-14T14:41:00.000-07:00

For whatever reason, when they test the gas pipeline, they call it shootin' the pig. They have a big foam plug (the "pig") that they insert into the pipeline and force it through with compressed air to check for problems. I wish I had known before they did it. I think it would've been great fun to stand at the other end of the pipe and watch for the thing to pop out of the hole. I DO hope they had someone watching for traffic, just in case it popped out unexpectedly.

According to DH (A.K.A "Snoop The Scoop"), they'll next do some high pressure test that will discover any possible leaks. Once that's done, the pipeline will be good to go. Neighbors are all wondering how long it will be before the wells here will go online. Rumor has it that it will be sooner rather than later. I'm still waiting for my eggs to hatch before I count my chickies.

(sign at Ken's corner, for those of you who know where that is)

It's been an unusual year so far, and so the sheep got their "haircuts" later than usual. The fellow who's been shearing for us for decades wasn't feeling up to the task. Thankfully, he's trained the next generation! The little gal in the background had a ringside seat (or actually, "stand") -- and was completely absorbed by the process. She chatted up a storm while Mike The Shearer kept busy for about two hours. He's got a young son, so didn't mind.

She tries to figure things out on her own and some of the things that come out of her just crack me up. It's awfully quiet around here now that she's gone back home.

well ... what have YOU been up to?

2011-08-12T15:11:00.000-07:00

I finally figured out how to use the new camera. Sorta. Even though it's supposed to be the new model of the same camera I had before, it's a lot different. And the only way to read the handbook for it is to use the CD in the computer. Tsk! Turns out, it has a lot of nifty features I'll probably never use because I don't need to. I've gotten to that age where I only do what I need to, not all that is possible.

Here are some things I've taken pictures of:

Paula, who finished something like six quilts while she was here. Whew!

Kittens, kittens ... everywhere! I did not pose this little thing inside the work boot. He was already there when I went out onto the porch.

Don't Play With Your Food!

(yeah, yeah ... whatevvuh)

Seems I do peculiar things when I'm left unsupervised. So, sue me!

You'll never guess ...

2011-07-28T07:14:00.000-07:00

... what I've been doing, so I will tell you: working. A lot. You'd never know it, to look around. Weeds are getting the best of me in the garden. The heat has been overwhelming. There are still a number of quilts in queue at the studio. My desk looks like the aftermath of a tornado.

I've been cranking out quilts like a mad woman. Photos will come when I get my new camera. It's on order.

Tuesday afternoon I managed to stitch through my thumb on the longarm. Owch! Actually, it didn't hurt nearly as much as you would think. I thought for sure it would be all swollen and sore the next day, but it isn't. Odd, eh? The needle went in alongside my thumbnail, through the fleshy part and out again on the "in" side of my thumb. And I kid you not: it doesn't hurt at all! Scared the snot outta me, though. I'm usually very careful, but was startled by an alarming noise and in a split second, wham! I'm current on my tetanus shot after last year's episode of poking a hole in my hand on the barbed wire fence.

You know what they say about all work and no play ...? Here's evidence that I took some time last night to go "play" with my friends (photo thanks to Kelly who's always got a camera at the ready):

These ladies are a few members of the Endless Mountains Quilt Guild at the B Mets Stitch & Pitch night -- most of us were knitting because it's really hard to work on a quilt while watching a ball game. (L-R it's Kelly grinning ear-to-ear in the back row sitting next to Carolyn, The Village Idiot, Stacey and AJ; Ceil, Cassandra, Amy and Mary in front of us. The empty seat belonged to the guy in the group who took the photo for us.)

That poor guy -- Mary's DH -- was absolutely mauled by a stadium mascot/clown. I originally was supposed to be in that Seat #22, and fear I would have been his target had I not earlier moved back a row. Ghack! I would not have been such a good sport as Mary's husband was. That clown would have been pierced about the head and neck with all four of my knitting needles if he came after me -- at the expense of my sock-in-progress.

It was a fun night, even if we didn't get much accomplished. At least we didn't get beaned by a fly ball!

Now it's time to get back to work.

"Listen to everyone, read everything, and don't believe anything unless you can prove it." B.C.

Murder on the hill!

2011-07-20T04:45:00.000-07:00

I'm sure you've heard that you learn something every day. Today I learned what a murder is. Believe it or not, that's what they call a flock of crows. Don't you just wonder the origin of THAT!?! I do not know, so go ask Pat. (My apologies, Dr. Seuss)

Speaking of Dr. S, my fav from him has always been One Fish, Two, Fish ... (I still have that one stuck in my head, having it memorized from reading it so often to my kids when they were tots).

I have to wonder if being a reading teacher isn't the toughest job in the school these days, next to being the disciplinarian? Reading just doesn't seem to have the same draw as it did when I was a kid. We didn't have a library of movies in our homes back then, and TV viewing time was very limited. When it was on, we all watched the same thing on the one TV in the house. If we didn't like what was on, we could go outside or go read a book.

And speaking of murder, I'd better get to the garden and do anything that's going to get done before the murderous heat expected for the day arrives.

Camer-a.

2011-07-19T06:38:00.000-07:00

That last post was supposed to say Camera Died. Tsk!

Camer died. No photos for a while ...

2011-07-19T05:46:00.000-07:00

I know it’s absolutely nutty, but when I’m overwhelmed with work and responsibilities, I start thinking of something to start knitting. I actually did come up with a project that I think I’m going to enjoy, but not before spending precious time perusing numerous knitting magazines and visiting a bunch of blogs and websites for ideas. In a sort of twisted logic, my brain (totally independent of the rest of me, mind you) thinks that if I’m so busy, I must need more things to do so I can maximize the opportunity to multi-task. If you understand all that, I feel sorry for you.

One thing I keep seeing over and over is wrist warmers. I’ve seen some pretty spiffy designs, but cannot convince myself it would be worth it to me to make fingerless gloves. After all, it’s the fingers that go numb from the cold while I’m doing winter chores. I cannot recall a time when I wished just my wrists had an extra layer of protective covering. Sleeves work pretty well for me on that front.

Last year, I had a pair of wool mittens that had a flip-top, under which was a sort of glove-with-amputated-fingertips. Only half fingers, I guess. I loved them, and thought they were just the ticket. The only problem I had with them is that the flip-top part had a piece of Velcro fastener to keep the flip-top securely flipped. Worked slick for that. But when the flip-top was not flipped back, I would often scratch my face by brushing hair out of my eyes – because the Velcro spot is like having a mini wire brush on the back of the hand. I finally resorted to sticking a tuft of wool from one of the sheep onto the scratchy spot. Looked stupid, but worked.

(Things that cannot be fixed with duct tape or a wad of wool should always be viewed with suspicion – as potential soul-suckers.)

Here’s another thing that makes no sense to me: hiring a pink stretch limousine to haul your daughter’s lazy butt, and those of some of her friends, to go see the Premiere of the last Harry Potter movie. Does anyone else think that’s a bit much? Or is it just me?

Last night, we had the briefest storm that produced just enough rain to raise the humidity level from unbearable to parboil. Land sakes, I'm hot! I cannot imaging how anybody survives the kind of temperatures they're suffering out West.

I went out to feed my bottle lamb in the wee hours of the morning, out the kitchen door rather than the front door, so I wouldn't disturb the dog who was sleeping soundly after an evening of sheep rustling with me. We had to bring an older ewe home from distant pasture so we can keep a close eye on her. Her lambs are kind of wild, and were a problem to catch up with. If I don't register a weight loss when I step on the scale after all that running up and down the hill in the heat, I'll sue. Anyway ... as I passed the cellar door that I had left open, out scrambled a skunk. I haven't yet gone to see if he left his calling card while he was in there. Oh, please ...

Did I even SAY that ... ?

2011-07-14T15:00:00.000-07:00

I think I may have told someone, or posted, that we seldom get more than one summer lamb in any given year. Well, if you think you hear a chomping noise, it's just me. Eating my words. Today, we had numbers 10 and 11.

I knew something was fishy (or should I say, "lamb-y"?) this morning when I went out for chores. While everyone else was budging their way to the feeders for grain, one ewe lingered way down at the bottom of the pasture where the other mommies had given birth. She was blatting a lot, so I went down and checked around to see if she had a weak lamb waiting for help. Nope.

I had to go to the dentist to see about fixing some broken teeth. (Yes. Again!) When I got home, DH told me there's a new lamb in the barn, the momma being the old gal who cannot feed her own babies and expects me to bottle feed them for her. So I went to do my duty. Well ... there were two I hadn't seen before. I had to stand back and observe for quite a while to figure out that the ewe who was blatting in the morning was the mother of one of them. But that still leaves me with a bottle lamb to take care of. Realize this means round-the-clock feedings, just as if it were human baby. I'M TOO OLD FOR THIS!

I daresn't complain, though, because DH keeps telling me to get rid of the momma. But I can't stand the thought of sending her to her demise just because she's too old to manage everything on her own. (Maybe I'm afraid that what goes around, comes around. Or else I'm just an idiot.)

I've told my son that when I get that old, he should just shoot me and bury me in the compost heap. Nobody will be any the wiser. He thinks he has a better plan: he'll tether me in the garden and build a tall fence around it. He'll leave me a bowl of water, so I can stay out there all day. (Come to think of it, he didn't say who'd fetch me in at night, though. Hmmm ...)

As far as the trip to the dentist? I don't wanna talk about it. It's a never-ending battle with me because I grind my teeth in my sleep. Do you think I have a little stress in my life? Or what?

Plant Propagation ...

2011-07-08T11:14:00.000-07:00

I am a gardener. I've been mocked by friends and family because I enjoy gardening so much I'll read whole books on one species of plant. (Ahem ... you mockers know who you are!) I like to plant things. I like to weed things (keep your comments to yourself, thank you very much). I like to shovel and hoe. I don't especially like the harvesting part of gardening. Nothing worse than picking beans, as far as I'm concerned.

What I like the most, I think, is propagating plants. It can be done by planting seeds, by starting cuttings, layering, division -- all of these things fascinate me. If I could just get someone to take care of the other details in my life for me, I'd specialize in it!

Here's an old-fashioned climbing rose grown from a piece "rescued" from an abandoned farm overgrown with weeds.

There's a pretty bush in my front yard that someone in another state passed along to me via my sister -- and asked for only a few comfrey plants in return. How cool is that?!?

Here are some daylilies just beginning to put on a show this morning, given to me by a friend who's neighbor had dug and tossed them.

I have a massive lilac bush and a mock orange in my yard that I started from a small clipping cut from yet another of those abandoned farm sites. Okay, the mock orange came from the front of the office building where I used to work -- just nipped off a small piece of a branch on my way out one evening. And that's not to mention the clumps of daffodils I've accumulated by digging just a couple from those old places, too.

The problem is, there are so many other things to be done around here that I run out of time before I run out of good ideas. I need a crew of workers to help. Guess I'll have to take a ride to the city and find some of those people who hold up signs that say, "Will Work for Food." Yeah, right!

The New Generation’s Logic …

2011-07-06T17:42:00.000-07:00

We had visitors over the holiday weekend, and that included some pre-teens who anxiously awaited the fireworks display with cameras in hand. I’m pretty sure they spent more time trying to focus their cameras than actually watching the sparkly explosions in the sky. One camera-less child repeatedly asked her Mom to video it for her. I gently suggested that we just enjoy the moment and not worry about having it on camera. But what really cracked me up was when one said to another, “I wish the fireworks would hurry up and end so I can go watch them on my video.”

What?!?

The girls kept busy for four days playing together, riding the horse, and inventing games that involved jumping from one huge hay bale to the next with results that reminded me of the “Wipeout” commercials on TV. The boys in this group divided their time up between bouncing on the trampoline and playing video games on my computer. One would play while the others watched over his shoulder. Then they’d change places, taking turns at the controls. They seem to enjoy this kind of “activity.” I use that term generously, because I see little activity taking place, unless you count the sound effects coming from the guys. Somehow I have a hard time imagining that my parents would have allowed much of this. Unless it was raining or pitch black nighttime, it was always “Go outside and play.” Our neighborhood gang (that included anyone old enough to walk and not yet old enough to drive) played games that encompassed several blocks of back yards, and lasted for weeks during the summer. Each day, we’d pick up where we left off the evening before. When the town’s curfew whistle blew, we all scrambled for home on a run, because we dared not be late.

Eventually, most everyone here for the weekend headed up to the pond with a kayak in tow. The first one in the craft dumped himself before ever launching away from the edge of the water, much to the amusement of all the others. When they came back to the house, they were all dripping wet from an unplanned dip in the pond. Everyone was laughing and jabbering at the same time. Now, THAT is what I’d call genuine activity.

So much for that … now it’s back to the old grind for all the parents and grandparents. The kids? They’ll probably continue doing what they like best for the rest of the summer.

Who DAT?

2011-07-05T15:19:00.000-07:00

Carol's quilt -- mostly Stitch-In-The-Ditch, but encircled with feathers. The outside border is filled with a curvy feather design, as well.

* * *
Saturday evening when I returned home from fetching grandkids, DH informed me we had an unexpected lamb. It's not that big of a surprise. The momma ewe is an oddball in the flock who always waits till summer to have her babies. We just hadn't paid a lot of attention to the flock because they're out on pasture, and with a brief glance at feeding time it has looked like everyone's okay.

The lamb was a husky fellow, and is doing very well out with the big guys, sez DH. But because I have to have something to fret about at all times, I decided to check up on him -- just in case. So first thing in the morning, I trekked up to have a peek. Well, now ... to me that lamb I see looks awfully wobbly for a day-old baby. It looks more like it was just born. I turned aside for a few minutes and came back to have a closer look. Then there were TWO wet and wobbly ones. Another ewe had just had twins. The momma is last year's bottle lamb, and I had no idea she was expecting.

We had a terrible thunderstorm last night complete with torrents of rain. (So that explains it! You know they always lamb in the worst weather.) I even thought about trying to go out in the dark and fetch them back to the barn, but realized it would be a mistake to attempt it. I tossed and turned all night, hoping they'd be okay. This morning the lambs look a little stunned but none the worse for wear.

(all of the above was written and put on hold for a week, waiting for me to get a photo or two of the lambs ... the following is from today)

Just now, I counted heads in the sheep pasture and snapped this on the run. That's why it's so blurry.

Hey! WhoDAT?!?

... and another one say'd, "Who DAT say whodat?"

It happened AGAIN! (almost) ...

2011-06-27T18:39:00.000-07:00

If you've read my previous posts, you may remember how much I hate shopping. And ... about how the carts full of stuff I've gathered and parked momentarily out of the way (whilst I run back to grab something more) get taken away.

Can you believe it happened AGAIN?!? I was doing my monthly mega-shopping (with more than usual because we're having a houseful of company for the holiday weekend). I had two carts heaped up to the rafters and made my way to the checkout area. Then I realized I still needed one more thing from the dairy aisle. I pushed my carts where they'd not be in anyone's way, and went quickly to fetch what I needed. When I returned to where I'd left the carts, they were GONE! I scanned the area and, sure enough, they were definitely gone.

One cashier, who had nobody in her line, was chewing her fingernails and looking a tad suspicious to me. I squinted one eye and glowered in her direction until she caught my stare. Then guess what she did? She called over to the front-end manager and told her "this lady's looking for her stuff." The FEM brought my carts back, apologizing profusely. She said, "She told me this stuff was abandoned. I don't know why she said that." I told her I had needed to get one more thing and didn't want to haul all that stuff back through the store. I was gone not more than three minutes, if that!

The cashier had nobody in her line when I first approached, and she looked up at me when I parked the carts. She KNEW how long I was gone. I suspect she was afraid I was going to go through her line with that mess. I worked as a cashier in a grocery store when I was in school -- I get it. She mumbled a half-baked apology because the FEM was looking at her like she should. I tried to say something like, "oh, that's okay ..." but all that came out was a low growl.

Oh, and before I hit the grocery store, I went to pick up a few things in another place. The fellow rang up my few items, I wrote my check and waited for him to hand me the receipt so I could be on my merry way. But it was not to be so easy. The register refused to print a receipt. He pushed all the buttons repeatedly, with no success. He called for help. The helper couldn't make the register happy, either. Eventually, I said I didn't need a receipt -- I just want to get out of the store sometime tonight!

Ohhhhh ... how I loathe shopping! If I were rich, I'd hire someone to do it for me.

Let's try that again ...

2011-06-24T09:17:00.002-07:00

(I did NOT hit send, but my post got away from me before I was ready.)

I want a medal. I think I deserve it. I'll tell you what happened just now, and see if you agree.

My dog was summoning me to come out of the house by barking his head off from the porch. I went to see what's up, and found two guys making their way to the back door (away from the dog). I leaned out over the edge of the porch and asked them if they were looking for someone?

Seems they own the cabin down the road a bit and are looking for some sucker to brushhog their property for them a couple times a year. They heard from a neighbor that we have such a gizmo here on our farm. Yep. That's right. We do. One guy started a lengthy speech about who he is, why he and his partner need someone else to do the dirty work for him, etc., etc. Here's where patience comes into the picture.

As he blabbered on and on, I was memorizing his looks, as I've never actually seen him before even though they've owned their property almost as long as I've lived here. I was also wondering how he had nerve enough to come to ask us to do what he wanted done. And I exercised great patience in NOT saying what I was thinking. Oh, no ... it's not that I'm a cranky old hag who bites strangers' heads off just because they come asking a favor. Here's the story:

These people come a few times a year for their party weekends during which they shoot guns all day, until it's too dark to see their target. The noise! If I were to go into their neighborhood and create a similar racket, they'd have the State Police on my butt in a heartbeat. But even THAT's not it. When they're not firing off their rifles, they're zooming up and down the road on their four-wheelers. I can't, for the life of me, figure out why people buy a place in the quiet country just so they can act like complete fools and do all they can to disturb the peace of the countryside. But no ... THAT's not it, either. The thing is, these people have kids that are the rudest brats I've ever encountered.

A number of years ago, they had a boy of about eight years of age ripping up and down on a four-wheeler. He was obviously not big enough to handle the machine safely, and I'm certain it's not legal to operate that thing on a public road without a license. He actually rode up on my front lawn and flipped the thing. I was outside, and went over and asked him if he was okay. His response? F*#k You, Lady!

After I picked myself up from ground, I told him to take his 4-wheeler, get out of here, and don't let me catch him on my yard with that thing again or he'd be one sorry little cursing son-of-a-gun.

Another time, these idiot kids rode their 4-wheelers back and forth past our farm and decided to shoot out the windshield of my son's truck parked in front of the barn. That time, I called the police and they got their little fannies in deep doo-doo. It surprised the daylights out of them that we actually HAVE police, I guess. It ruined their party atmosphere. They left early that weekend and didn't come back for a long time. (No, I didn't miss them!)

Now, I've got to say, the guy who came today seemed pleasant and was very polite. I wanted sooooo badly to ask him if he was the one with the out-of-control kids. Or just who in the world WERE those little jerks? But patience prevailed, I'll have you to know. I took his name and number, and politely told him I'd have my husband call a friend of his who would probably do the job for him. Without ripping him "a new one."

Whaddya think? A medal for patience, or a crown for Stupidest Neighbor on the Road?

I want a medal.

2011-06-24T09:17:00.001-07:00

The rest of the story ...

2011-06-21T10:01:00.000-07:00

The other day, I posted a picture of the border of this quilt in progress. Here's the rest of the story. Very pretty, don'cha think?

It's Sue P's quilt. The pattern is from Deb Tucker, and utilizes her Wing Clipper tool. I love her rulers -- they make fast work of things like flying geese and hunter's star. Oooo ... that reminds me ... I never finished the blue one I started in her class. Maybe I'll get back to that once I get my complete-mess-of-a-quilt under control! If I started right now to finish up all my UFOs, I'd need to live at least twenty more years to get them done. (sigh)

Time's a-wastin' ... I'd better get crackin'!

Found It!

2011-06-20T05:17:00.000-07:00

I told you I'd find that missing baggie of triangle pieces for my quilt if it was the last thing I did. It was located in a box of totally unrelated stuff in the laundry room. Now how did it get there, you ask? Oh, c'mon ... I know I'm not the only one who does this! Like the guy in the TV commercial who invites someone over and then rushes around like a lunatic to get ready, and at the very last second before she arrives, swooshes everything from the kitchen counter (including some laundry) into the dishwasher ... see? It's a very common practice!

At some point in the last few months, I must have done similarly -- swooshed everything off the table into a box, stuffed the box in the laundry room, closed the door, thinking "I'll put that stuff back where it belongs after they leave." And then? Outta sight, outta mind.

So, "Yea! I found it!" It's supposed to rain a lot this week. Maybe I'll get time to work on the quilt again if it does. Even tho, I really should clean my office before someone decides to send in a team for intervention. It looks like a hoarder lives here.

It all started back when DH decided to start fixing up the bathroom. The pipes for the shower are only accessible by going behind the wall of the closet in my office. Everything had to come out of the closet to open that wall. Thinking I'd take advantage of the forced removal of everything in there, I made piles all over the room, sorting as I went. What IS it about closet cleaning?!? By the time everything is out of the closet and sorted out, energy is drained and time is up. It gets left in a state of total disrepair. Well ... I am the Queen of Ignoring Messes. It has been this way for a very, very long time. Whenever I try to make myself deal with it, I go into the "Prioritize!" mode. And believe me, tidying up this disaster is NOT high on my list when compared to gardening, quilting, wandering aimlessly about, or really-- ANYthing.

So much for dry socks …

2011-06-17T06:15:00.000-07:00

If my morning is any indication of what will follow, I think I should go back to bed. Wake me when it’s over.

It rained again last night. A lot. For at least the third day in a row. When I let Tuck out, I tried my best to ignore his obvious attempt to alert me to the fact that something’s amiss. I donned my shorts and a comfy pair of socks with rubber shoes, thinking I’d stroll up to see what’s going on in the garden. It was not to be. The siren song coming from the neighbor’s front yard drew me from my intended mission.

I did my large animals a favor last night by letting them stay in the lower pasture so they could get in out of the rain by sheltering in the barn if they wanted. They repaid me by hiking off into the neighbors’ yard. Well, they’re not ALL such ingrates … it was only a cow with a calf, and the bull. Oh, dear. The cow’s a dolt; the calf is afraid of me. And the bull is afraid of the electric fence that he was now on the wrong side of. Oh, yeah … and I’m sort of afraid of the bull. He’s not actually shown any signs of aggressiveness yet, but given the odds of me being the first to discover it, well …

Turns out, it was not as big a problem as I expected, thanks to my hero, Tuck.

Hoping the bull’s as stupid as the cow, I armed myself with a long stick to scare him with, and went after him. Thankfully, Tuck knows the drill and the bull seems to know Tuck is The Boss. While I trudged behind, calling commands to the dog who could not be seen from my position downhill in wet grass up to my knees, he herded them back where they belong. All’s well that ends well.

Problem: The only pair of clean, comfy socks I had left this morning are now wringing wet. And I’m allergic to grass, so now have a serious case of hives all over my legs. Someone remind me to call for an appointment with the butcher today, will ya?

Here’s a glimpse of Sue P’s “Atlantic Flyway” quilt I’m working on. She said “have fun with it …” So I am. Heh-heh … should I tell her I’ve got one from that pattern myself, and am using her’s for practice?

Moving right along … I am trying to finish a quilt to enter into our local guild’s show. I have until September, but here on the farm, we like to say, “Make hay while the sun shines.” EXACTLY! Seems like the sun never shines any more, so it’s more like, “Try to figure out a way to get around it, because you can’t depend on things going right.” When I started this quilt several months ago, I was on a roll. Got all the pieces cut out (and there were soooo many of them). Then I read the directions, at which time I learned what I had gotten myself into. Will I never learn?!? I worked on that quilt until other things got in my way. And they were plentiful things. Like being called for jury duty, a month of battling pneumonia, a backload of work to get caught up on, etc.

Thinking there’s a lull in the calamities that fill my days, I went back to the quilt. I couldn’t even remember where I left off, so I had to re-read the instructions, all the while wondering what evil thing possessed me to get me started on this! Turns out, it’s a dog’s breakfast. A whole baggie of triangle-shaped pieces is missing. I don’t have enough fabric left to cut them again. Aaaaaah! I will tear through here like the tornado that hit Joplin until I find that baggie – if it’s the last thing I do!

Freedom is lost gradually by an uninterested, uninformed, and uninvolved people.

I didn't plan it this way ...

2011-06-14T13:17:00.000-07:00

I never planned to be the person I have become -- it just worked out this way due to circumstances beyond my control. Had things been different, I may have been a whole different ballgame. I may have been the life of the party. I may have been a very diligent sort who always follows up on things I've said I'd do. Who knows?!?

But grief got in my way. Not to belabor the point (well, maybe), but today marks 21 years since the death of one of our sons, and I cannot help but wonder how that can be possible. My Friend Most Faithful went with me to the cemetery today, to tidy up and leave some flowers to make it pretty. Twenty. One. Years. I look at the date on the gravestone in disbelief. Did I pass in-and-back-out of a coma for many years without anyone noticing? In some ways, it seems like that horrible day was just yesterday. But in other ways, it seems like it's been forever ago that coping became a lifestyle, and living became a quest for better coping skills.

I do take pleasure in lots of things, but they tend to be the simple things, the quieter things. My idea of a party is the colors in a quilt, or a bed of flowers. Stuff like petty arguments and power grabs grate my nerves, and because my nerves have "had it," I like to stay away from the likes of those things.

Want a glimpse of a "party" I've recently been invited to? Here ya go:

It's Linda M's Civil War repro quilt. In the second picture, I flipped it over so you can see part of the back (that's homespun on back -- and it quilted up with no issues, surprisingly!)

Did anybody miss me?

2011-06-10T17:11:00.000-07:00

It's been about a week since I've been here, posting. It's not that I've nothing to say (is there actually any way to shut me up?!?) -- it's that I've nothing NEW to say. I'm back to my usual routine: gardening in the early hours, quilting when the sun gets too hot.

Since the stinkpot-of-a-Spring we had, and then my month-long siege of illness, I felt I had to do whatever it takes to get some semblance of a garden going out there once the rains stopped. Of course, that near-90 degree heat tried its best to do me in over the last few days, but I'm persistent. They say only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun. I do have a substantial bit of English blood in me, but I rather think it's the gardening gene that causes people to do crazy things under the most adverse conditions.

After setting out many, many languishing plantlings from the cold frames (which should more aptly be called "plant-baking ovens" lately), I made my way back inside, rustled up some bean seeds and went back out. Now if I just get some squash and cukes in soon, I'll be content. Or maybe I'll still plant a few other things. (Keep in mind, "few" is a relative term. One man's "few" is another man's "slew.")

I did eventually retreat to the indoors when I was certain even one more minute would be my certain demise. And I quilted. Here's a few shots of Natalie H's quilt:

It's for a young friend of hers. Here's a peek at the back, where the quilting shows up better:

I also got a couple of others done this week, and another is loaded on the machine and ready to go first thing Monday morning. Pics to come after the weekend is over.

An Unmitigated Rant.

2011-06-02T11:09:00.000-07:00

(you know where the delete button is, should you feel the need to use it)

Did I see an ad recently that read, "Nothing Runs Like A Deere." ?!?

For the second day in a row, and only about the fourth time in a month, it isn’t raining. And where am I spending the time? Out tending to my yard? Working in the garden? Or at least enjoying a day of sunshine? Nope. I’m busy trying to resolve a problem. Story of my life.

DH was in the middle of mowing lawn yesterday with the two-year-old ride-on mower when the axel broke. Now, he’s a pretty big guy but not a giant of a man, so let’s just get that off the list of possible causes right off the bat. And I’ve never even as much as sat upon said tractor, so my fat butt surely didn’t break it. It’s a manufacturer’s defect. Plain and simple. Only 130 hours on that machine and it’s toast.

So today, DH sent me to the “big box” store from whence he purchased it, to see if they would offer to do anything. Yep. Here’s what: I asked to speak to the manager of the department that sells mowers. Not available. So I asked to speak to someone who might be able to discuss the problem with me. They sent the store manager down the aisle. When I told her why I was there, her initial response was, “Well, did you purchase the extended warranty?”

Ummm … I’ll find out, but we’re talking about a machine that is only two years old and the AXEL BROKE! Shouldn’t that be covered under the warranty, or something?

Her answer: “I don’t know anything about mowers or tractors.”

Me: “Then why did they send you to talk to me?”
She: “Because you asked to speak to a manager.”
Me: “No, I asked to speak to the manager of this mower department, or someone who can discuss my mower problem with me.” (Can you see where this is heading?)

Long story, short: The store claims no responsibility for the crap they sell. They would gladly put me in queue for the repair service which is sent out and has a very long waiting list. (So kind, and helpful … don’t-cha think?)

I asked if they could at least provide me with contact information for customer service directly with the manufacturer. No. Not only does this manager know nothing about mowers or tractors, apparently she knows nothing about customer service, either.

I’m going out to pull some weeds. Given my current frustration level, I’d sure hate to be a weed in my yard today! (And if you're lucky, I WON'T tell you in my next post the story of what happened the day I went to this store to pick this crap of a mower up.)

It's this heat that makes me crazy ...

2011-05-31T18:51:00.000-07:00

Tuck and I were walking down the road toward my house, within a tenth of a mile from home, when a neighbor from about a half mile behind me came walking UP the road toward HER house with HER dog. It was nearly dark, so we didn’t notice each other until the dogs started in. Tuck is very protective of his domain, so he was NOT happy to see anybody on the road in front of our house. The road passes between our house and our barn, so he considers it part of his personal property which he will fiercely defend against all foes. Especially dogs and a certain UPS driver.

She grabbed the collar on her dog, and I took off on a run to catch Tuck, fully expecting it would all end with me picking broken teeth up off the ground after tripping on a rock or something. Happily, we averted a brawl, and both wondered what the other was doing out walking this late.

The funny thing is that we neighbors around here hardly EVER see each other at close range because the nearest houses are about a half-mile away, except when we all seem to be out walking at the same time. And we all seem to have dogs as walking companions, so we don’t travel together. Ever.

When her dog was a puppy in training, this neighbor thought we should “socialize” our dogs. Excuse me? I’m afraid I’ve not told Tuck he is adopted. He doesn’t know he’s a dog, and I asked her not to tell him. The neighbors already think I’m nuts, so it doesn’t matter what I say any more. I amuse myself by reinforcing their opinion of me as oft as I can.

Do you know what you're looking at?

2011-05-30T14:39:00.001-07:00

It's a mother cat with her litter, in the hollow of an old tree trunk.

I was working on hauling soil and plants back and forth in the hot sun, stopped in the shade of the old maple tree and happened to notice them all nestled down deep inside the hollowed out trunk. She's a motley-colored barn cat, but rather tame because the grandkids play with her when they're around. She has three little kitties the color of that part of a Creamsicle where the orange sherbet blends with the vanilla ice cream. Anybody want one when they're old enough?

Oh, what a night!

2011-05-27T05:47:00.000-07:00

Whew! I wish the current weather pattern would cut us a break. We got bombarded by large hail and torrents of rain. Tree branches came down. But at least it didn't develop into a tornado, even though we were under a "watch" condition again.

Last night I was "out" at suppertime, so didn't get dinner until I got home. That was very late because I got caught driving in one horrific storm after dark. It rained bucketloads, which made driving alongside the big rigs a scary process. I opted to stay in the slow (verrrrrry slow) lane rather than risk being shoved into the barrier by a "drifter" who couldn't stay in his/her lane. Temporary road signs flopped over by strong winds onto the driving lane in the construction area made the drive even more fun. NOT!

The sky burst into a spectacular sight every few minutes -- lightning like I've never seen before. It was sideways lightning, for the most part. Hugely long streaks that looped and curled crazily like my hair in the morning -- flashing across horizontally for vast spans of the night sky. I normally am like the dog who hides under the bed during a lightning storm -- I'd prefer not to see it, thank you. But surprisingly, the thunder was not that nerve-wracking crackling kind, so the light show was not so scary. It was actually kind of neat.

Then, as I got nearer to home, I was met with this scene. It made a frightening sight to behold from a distance, but I knew from experience what to expect when I got closer. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought there was a barn fire. (The gas well on the farm next door is at that stage where they burn off the gas, for whatever reason.)

Anyway, when I got settled in the house upon my return, I headed for the kitchen to see if there was anything available for quick eats in the fridge. The fridge was dark. Uh-oh. Maybe the bulb burned out? Nope. It was the circuit breaker. Good thing I was hungry when I got home, or the fridge would have been off all night without being discovered. After I re-set the breaker and had a snack, I was too wound up to sleep, so grabbed a book and jumped into bed.

I read a few pages and heard the fridge go silent. I've mentioned in the past how the hum of that thing in the night makes me nuts, so when it goes silent, it really grabs my attention. Back to the cellar to re-set the circuit breaker again. Then back to bed and the book.

A few more pages and the lights went out. This time it wasn't the circuit breaker. The power went off. While I lay there trying to decide what could be done about it at this late hour, it voluntarily came back on. And off. And on again. I gave up and went to sleep.

In the morning, I immediately noticed the power was off, but while I was looking for the electric company's phone number, it came back on. Yay! So what will today bring, pray tell?

At about three o'clock ...

2011-05-17T15:26:00.000-07:00

Peggy finished The House Divided (civil war repro quilt).

That was after she did this (before lunch):

... while Nancy had her introductory lesson on the machine.

And what did I do? Nuttin', Honey. Still no energy.

A bouquet for May 15th

2011-05-15T14:24:00.001-07:00

DH ran into a fellow he used to work with at the store. They talked a bit about how much the guy is now enjoying his retirement, and how he spends a lot of time in his wood shop. He said Young Andy helped him get his shop all fixed up in anticipation of the day he could leave his job and start doing what he really enjoyed. With tears in his eyes, he told DH what a good guy Young Andy was. He would have turned 40 today. And it's nice to know he's not forgotten by his friends.

Turdus migratorius ...

2011-05-10T07:31:00.000-07:00

Oh, my! Did you know that is the official name for the American robin? Heh-heh … looks like that must mean migratory turd bird, no? Thinking on that reminded me of a saying from my childhood that was oft repeated when I was particularly tickled about something, and my parents noticed: “you’re as happy as a turd bird in the rain …” Those old sayings always make me wonder where they originated, and this is one that seems to make a lot of sense. Robins make a series of cheerful musical whistles; they are one of the first signs of Spring, so accompany the early rains. So there ya’ have it!

This lone egg must not have been fertile. Down on the ground, there is the broken shell of an already-hatched baby bird. Considering robins rarely leave their nest for more than five or ten minutes when they’re hatching eggs, the fact that I was able to go to the house to grab the camera and get back without the mother ever returning, my guess is that it’s abandoned. Awww …

Google "turd bird" and you may find a string of amusing things to waste time with! Of particular note, there's an item that describes a "souvenir" kind of thing that was sold in a restaurant chain. It was actually a ball of dried poop fitted with googly eyes, and a little sign for the state in which it was sold. One for every state (maybe not Hawaii), they were collectible! Oh, my! Oh, my! ... some people will buy anything!

From there, I drifted over to a site where there are listed four management lessons. One of them went like this: "A crow was sitting in a tree, doing nothing all day ..." to the envy of other critters on the ground. It ends like this: "To be sitting and doing nothing, you must be very, very high up." Think about that for a while. Pretty amusing.

Now I must stop sitting and doing nothing -- I'm not very high up at all.

The Harvest Has Begun ...

2011-05-08T04:34:00.000-07:00

Mmmm ... picked THIS this morning. Lots more where that came from. Now all I need is some energy to do something with it.

I've been so sick I've not had much energy to do anything. These baby quilts are due to be turned in at the quilt guild meeting on Thursday. Cathie and Linda wanted to know if you can load more than one thing at a time on the machine ... here's proof positive. I got both of them quilted in less than an hour this way. Here's how: I basted the backing pieces end to end and loaded them as one, in such a way that I could get the most quilting done in one pass, across the two quilts. It took 12 minutes per pass, times four passes. Ta-da! All that was left to do was the binding. Barring calamity, I think I'll have them done on time for collection for Quilts 4 Kids.

THAT is scary!

2011-05-02T11:44:00.000-07:00

Aside from the fuzzy white hair that insists on standing straight out from my scalp as if I lick electrical outlets when left unattended, I got quite a start this morning when I glanced in the mirror. I used to wear my hair long so I could bundle it into a ponytail -- at least it gave the impression that I was TRYING to control it.

I think I broke my eyeballs! I've been feeling like a train wreck for a couple of days, and the worst symptom is an horrendous cough that feels like I'm going to hack up a lung at any moment. It gets worse at night, like coughs usually do. I got up to broken blood vessels in my eyes. What a startling sight!

When DH came home, his only comment was, "Yow! What happened to you?" Yeah. Exactly!

Do Geese Sneeze?

2011-04-28T07:24:00.000-07:00

I think I just heard one. At least it sounded like a sneeze ... what else would you call it?

From the NWS for our area: Hazardous Weather Outlook
Flash Flood Warning / Severe Thunderstorm Watch / Flood Warning

More of the same for yet another week, I’m afraid. This weather is getting to be a bit much. At least they’ve lifted the tornado warning.

We moved the sheep the other day to pasture that was green with grass growing nicely. Two nights in a row, they were subjected to severe thunderstorms. Now today, the forecast is for more – with the added threat of heavy hail. So this morning, Tuck and I brought them back home to the barn. In the pouring rain. We’re both soaked to the skin, but the sheep cooperated nicely and it wasn’t a problem moving them about a quarter of a mile sans PaPa.

I ordered new rubber shoes online and they came none too soon. The back yard:

(I'm not as brave as K who sent a photo of herself walking barefoot in similar conditions at her house.)

The barnyard:

Unfortunately, the garden looks pretty much the same. And we live on top of a hill that is at nearly the highest elevation in the county. I feel sorry for folks who live down by the river.

I saw on the news that the new Royal Princess roller skates! As a matter of fact, there was a photo of her, taken right after she fell on her butt. http://www.google.com/search?sourceid=navclient&aq=1&oq=kate+middleton+roll&ie=UTF-&rlz=1T4SUNA_enUS326US326&q=kate+middleton+roller+skating
Maybe she needs one of these: http://www.skaterscoach.com ! Or, if the budget is a little tight and Prince William is good with hand tools, he could make her one of those contraptions my little granddaughter used at the rink we went to last week – with a saw, some PVC pipe, glue and a few wheels. For the devotees of all things Princess-y, is having Kate on Skates enough to blast the activity out of The Eighties and into the modern decade? (Just curious -- I don’t really care. The grandkids love to go skating when they’re here.)

The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some good ideas!

A grand time ...

2011-04-22T16:26:00.000-07:00

The grandkids are here -- that's a guaranteed GRAND time!

Yesterday we went to see a 3-D movie. They thought it was great, I had a hard time focusing. Must be my eyes don't work with those glasses on. (Do they come in bi-focals?) Things improved when I changed my seat so I was closer to the center of the theatre. Is that normal? The cost of the movie was a real bargain. It's the snacks that kill the wallet. I wondered if they sprinkled the popcorn with gold dust, or what?!?

The whole movie reminded me of a friend who has a blue macaw, amongst her fine feathered friends of which there are several. Some of them talk! It just cracks me up when she sends sound bites of them jabbering, or tells stories of their antics like hiding in a closet or making the dog howl by repeating the same word over and over.

Today we went skating with some friends. The littlest cutie-pie struggles with "real" skates (usually uses the things that just strap onto street shoes). But they had the most clever solution for new/wobbly skaters. They had lengths of PVC pipe joined to make a thing that looked like a little corner of a fence on wheels. It works like a walker older people use to steady themselves to get around. Perfect! Had they had one tall enough to accommodate, I may have tried on some skates again, myself. I was afraid I'd look like I really needed a walker if I tried one of the short ones, though. I'd have to bend nearly in half to use it. Not a good look for me, and I'm pretty sure it would be tough to straighten back up when it was time to leave.

Yellow things ...

2011-04-18T10:01:00.000-07:00

With yellow things popping up all over the place, is that an indicator that Spring has finally decided to pay us a visit?

I dunno ... last night, driving home at about 10 p.m., we ran into a bit of snow. Nothing major ... just enough to make its presence known.

I've been given my warning (see the wings starting to flail on that guy on the right? I think he's saying, "Put the camera down and step away from the nursery."

Where’s a video camera when you need one?

2011-04-13T14:13:00.000-07:00

Oh, the sights I see, living out here amongst all my creatures. I just witnessed something that would probably make the cut for AFV on TV, had I caught it on tape.

I was pouring myself a cup of coffee and looking out the window glass in the kitchen door. There was a cat snuggled up on a pile of leaves in a flower bed just outside. A big old goose came waddling up, stretched her neck out and pinched the cat right in the rear end. It’s probably one of those “you had to be there” kind of things, but the cat absolutely FLEW into the air, completely startled. When he landed back on his feet several feet away, he looked back at the goose as if to say, “What was THAT for?!?”

I wish I had caught that on tape. It was priceless. How does a cat do that, anyway? It went from being in a sleeping position to being several feet in the air, zero-to-sixty – apparently without its feet ever touching the ground for lift-off. On second thought, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t catch it on tape. I’d spend the whole day re-winding it and reviewing it.
__________

EMMA WAS HERE ... Emma is Peg K's granddaughter. She's in the second grade, and likes cats. So she shall have cats on her quilt that Grandma made for her:

Hard to see the pink on pink, but it shows up a lot on the black!

What can this mean ... ?

2011-04-12T05:18:00.000-07:00

When DH was leaving, he said, “… when I get home, I’m going to need your help with something.” Uh-oh. What does THAT mean? Remember, this is the guy who calls from another state to ask a “small” favor of me, and that small favor takes me half a day and all my energy to accomplish the gate-building-and-sheep-rustling task. (recall post from last summer -- it's in the archives)

So this new request can be just about anything. I’m guessing he wants me to be “the other guy” needed to reposition a barn door that has come off its rocker. Or whatever those things are called that hold sliding barn doors onto the barn. Said barn door is about 10 feet wide and at least as tall, made of wood, and weighs a lot more than I do. I’d better eat my Wheaties for breakfast so I’ll have superhuman strength for this job.

I finally managed to get some snow peas, and regular peas as well, planted in the garden yesterday. No. Small. Task. First, I had to build a new raised bed because the garden is actually still WAY too wet for planting anything. I hauled compost and relatively dry soil from a protected area, mixed it up, raked it free of rocks and debris and voila! Instant pea bed. Well, not really very instant – it took me the best part of a day to accomplish. I know: I could have just bought a bag of frozen peas and been done with it in a flash. Bite your tongue! Think of all the benefits: fresh air, exercise, and maybe even some fresh peas after several weeks of weeding, watering, and watching their progress every day.

A bag of peas probably costs about $2.99, and a packet of seeds about the same. So … why would anybody take the easy way out when they can struggle to grow their own?!? If you don’t know the answer to that, you’re probably not a gardener.

Brenda came to the studio for the first time, was a fast learner who wanted to just be taught the basics and then left alone to "learn by doing." Here’s what she accomplished:

Oh … and besides these, there was another small quilt, and a table runner that she even took time to put sparkly crystals on before she left. She e'd me when she got home, thanking ME!?! And she paid me to come and use my stuff. Why do I have the urge to recite, “Come into my parlor …”?

A roomful of lovely ladies ...

2011-04-08T04:39:00.000-07:00

The gals who make a quilt each year to raise funds for our local fire department are getting an earlier start this time. They've been doing this forever. Each woman embroiders a block that is incorporated into a bed-size quilt that will be raffled off at the annual Fourth of July Celebration at the fire hall.

Some of the embroidery is exquisite. My embroidery skills leave much to be desired, so I volunteer to quilt and bind the finished product as my contribution.

Let me know if you want tickets for the raffle. They don't usually sell a whole lot, so your chances of winning are greater. E-me at judenow@epix.net if you want tickets.

. . . as soon as the ground can be worked.

2011-04-07T04:15:00.000-07:00

Doesn't look like that will be today.

The prospects of gardening any time soon don't look so hot, according to the forecast for the rest of the week, either. We're a full week into April and still getting a daily dose of winter -- just to keep us humble, I guess. When nice weather comes, it will be a battle to get "Spring" things accomplished. Posts and trellises will need to be righted, soil turned, seeds and seedlings planted, and so on. I don't know if the grapes will get pruned at all this year. Beneath that lovely white coating of snow, there's a treacherous lot of mud that makes any outdoor work nigh unto impossible. Hoping to not repeat the shoe-sucking episode for the third time, (yes, it happened AGAIN!), I tied my feet into plastic bags and THEN put on my boots this morning. That was in case I needed to traipse through the sludge sans boots again. Oh, give me strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow! I'm sinking fast, with all this mud. At least I kept my boots on my feet today, even though I sunk literally up to my ankles in the sheep yard. Makes for slow moving.

Here ... look at the back of one of Paula's quilts!

This makes me think of maple syrup! Folks around here would normally be busy gathering sap to make syrup now, but I don't think the weather has been very cooperative for that this year, either. Good grief! I'm not one to mind winter usually, but the siege seems never-ending this year. I shall go work on a very Spring-y quilt and try to ignore what's going on outside.

Wind Makes Me Nervous ...

2011-04-04T05:37:00.000-07:00

Not sure why, but it does. The up side to wind: it dries up mud.

Mud. Everywhere. In shoe-sucking proportions. The cows hate it as much as I do, so to be kind, I decided I’d deliver their breakfast in the shed where they were hanging out to stay away from the muck. They seemed to like the idea. The problem came when I had to fetch the feed dishes back to prevent them from being pulverized by hooves. In maneuvering around “droppings,” I got myself wedged between the barn wall and a very large animal. Thinking I was trying to jockey for position at the feed trough, he started putting his weight on me to nudge me out. Ugh. My only recourse was to step into the muck. I didn’t realize that there, at the door opening, the rain had puddled and created a vile soup. Yow! I was rapidly sinking and had visions of being stuck up to my waist until help could arrive. Okay, so I have a wild imagination and it goes haywire at the slightest provocation. But when I pulled my foot up to take another tenuous step, I lost my boot. It had gotten slurped right off my foot. Ohhhhhhh no! I then had to make a decision. Did I need that boot badly enough to reach into the gluck to fetch it out? (It was sunk do deep it was filling up with the semi-liquid, disgusting slime.) If I were to pull it out, how would I ever clean it up enough that I’d be willing to put my foot back into it? But if I didn’t get it, how would I walk back through the barnyard to the house? In my socks? Oh, why me?!? I retrieved the boot, but couldn’t make myself put my foot back into it in that state. I flung it down on the barn floor and walked back to the house for a shower and a different pair of footwear.

I’ve been very busy in the quilting studio. As fast as I can finish quilts, more come in. That’s a good thing! But it leaves little time for other things.

One thing I will always make time for is to play in my garden. You might think it’s a tad early for that, but I am happy to report I got some spinach planted in a cold frame. And there are the babies in the cellar under lights:

I’m being called to duty by the fax machine, so off I go!

Doesn't look like much ...

2011-03-27T17:26:00.000-07:00

This little heap of fabric scraps represents most of my day today. Yeah, I know ... doesn't look like I accomplished much. Trust me, though, it's a big deal for me. At least is shows I am making progress on my newest quilt project, albeit painfully slow going.

Actually, it was how I amused myself while Karen and Michelle worked on their quilts here today. They finished M's birthday quilt together. Then they worked on another. You should have heard the giggling coming out of that room! (Sorry the picture is so blurry. It's hard to stand still to snap a photo whilst sniggling.)

From the "Thanks Again, Uncle Sam!" Department: I did NOT get excused from Federal jury duty. So much for the claim that being self-employed is an automatic "get off the hook" card. Pbbbbbbblt ... it makes me NUTS just thinking about it. So I will quit. Thinking about it, that is.

It is a mistake to try to look too far ahead. The chain of destiny can only be grasped one link at a time. - Sir Winston Churchill

Is this really necessary?

2011-03-23T06:15:00.000-07:00

Now, you're probably thinking I'm referring to the 6-inches-and-still-falling snow. Yeah, that too. But in reality, this is what it looks like here in early Spring. Snow. Or mud. Of the two, hate mud WAY more than I dislike snow.

But what I'm referring to is the mailbox sans door. Back after the 9-1-1 ordeal, we were notified by the post office that we had to remove the door on our rural mailbox, as an anti-terrorism measure. C'mon, now. If a terrorist went to the trouble to drive all the way out here in the boondocks to do some damage, does anyone really believe (s)he'd be deterred by the fact that there's no door on the mailbox to hide the bomb or poisoned package? So, patriotically conforming to the silly law, we removed the mailbox door. For me, that began a number of years of soggy junk mail to dispose of and drippy bills to pay. Thanks, Uncle Sam.

A few weeks ago, I saw something on TV about a man who was studying how many words a dog recognized. The Border Collie (Yea! Border Collies!) was able to discern one toy from another, by name. My foreign-born sister-in-law says my dog understands English better than she does. This morning, I decided to see if Tuck would know what I was asking for if I had a mix of items on the floor for him to choose from. I have to tell you, I often tell him to "get my socks" because I'm too lazy to bend over and pick them up myself, and he happily does that for me. So this morning, I put two socks, a dishtowel, his beloved toy rabbit and my gloves on the kitchen floor. I went to the other room and asked him to go get my gloves. He ran to the kitchen, picked up the towel, growled and shook his head to toss it aside. Then he grabbed one glove and brought it to me. I said, "get me the other one" and he did.

Now, granted it doesn't take much to amuse me, but I find this dog to be a constant source of entertainment. I'm SO not used to things going my way, it's a delight to have this dog who is always eager to please. Sorta like supermarket cantaloupes -- they're usually such a musty-tasting disappointment that when you get a good one, what a treat! (Where did THAT come from? I don't know. Maybe I'd better go eat some breakfast to fuel my failing brain.)

Time flies ...

2011-03-22T18:10:00.001-07:00

It's been a week since I've been here, posting. It's been a busy week, but I managed to get away and visited the quilt show in Lancaster, PA. There were some very impressive quilts to be seen! I don't know whether to be inspired to try to aim higher like the people whose talents are so evident, or to give up, knowing I'll never do that kind of work. Oh well, I quilt because I like to, not because I'm good at it. So I guess I'll just keep doing what I do.

Here's what I did to Julie S's pretty little quilt: (double click the picture to enlarge).

A funny, heard at the quilt show. Someone visiting an Amish shop last year when it had been very windy there in Lancaster asked if there was a public restroom. The answer was, "We had one, but it blew down last night." Hold onto your outhouse!

I've got all I can handle ...

2011-03-15T03:55:00.000-07:00

... but if you're looking for a pet, here's something you can try. More than 320,000 pets are waiting for homes on http://www.petfinder.com/.

But please, PLEASE ... if you get a pet and later decide you don't want/can't keep it, DON'T drop it off in front of my barn. So many people have already done that, we're on overload with cats.

Why do people do that?!? Do they really think cats are all so independent they'll live on mice they catch in someone else's barn? In our experience, it doesn't really work that way. Be kind, and be responsible.

Drop-off cats are bad enough, but more than once we've found that someone left a pregnant dog here. Once it was a Dalmatian who had six puppies. We were able to find homes for all of them. Another time, a sweet mutt was left, obviously ready to pop at any moment. We planned to take her to the animal shelter the next day, but she had other plans. She deposited THIRTEEN puppies by morning. We kept them all here for six weeks, feeding and caring for them. We managed to find homes for all but four. I really felt bad about having to take them to the shelter, but it had to be done. The worst time had to be when my husband discovered someone had put a litter of pups into a feed bad and dumped them along the road here. At least when the mother is with them, she takes care of the nursing part. If you know the culprit who did that, please don't tell me. I am not sure I would be kind to that person, putting it mildly.

A Novel Idea ...

2011-03-11T03:17:00.000-08:00

Sunday night into Monday, we had a tremendous amount of snowfall, made worse by winds that created deep drifts. There was so much, a big barn down the road collapsed presumably from the weight of the snow on the roof, causing quite a disaster for the farmers there. Thankfully, most of the cows were rescued, and nobody was hurt.

The fellow who plows me out came and did what he could, but because the snow was so deep and so heavy, he couldn't get the studio driveway cleared except for the first 10 feet. The driveway is a straight shot from the road and about 700 feet long, I should mention. (Can that be right? Sounds like a lot. But I think it's correct.) I've been trudging through stuff that's up to my knees. Ugh. (Note to self: think how good for me all this exercise is.)

With the rain we had yesterday, the deep snow became deep snush (snow + slush = snush). I've mentioned how I hate wet feet, right? So yesterday morning I donned my layers and layers of clothing and plastic bags inside my boots, trying to keep dry, and headed out. Along came a friendly neighbor who stopped to chat. (Of COURSE someone would come along when I'm out looking like a psychotic bag lady!) He asked how I liked the current state of affairs on our township's roads. We talked about how it is nigh unto impossible to get there from here if you're trying to head west. The main road has been closed awaiting repair (maybe until October?!?), and the alternate routes are an absolute mess from all the rain and heavy truck traffic.

I explained how I don't go out much, so it's not as big a problem for me as it is for the folks in the area who have to get to work in the main town near here. I told him how the trek up to the studio was a chore for me. He came up with a novel idea! He suggested that because the snow is so wet and heavy, it is good packing snow. I should go to the top of the driveway (from the road, uphill all the way), and make a snowball. Then start it rolling down. It would pick up all the snow and carry it away. Only one problem: it would probably cross the road and wipe out the house across at the bottom of the hill.

It was a mental image that kept me chuckling all the sloppy wet-and-getting-wetter day.

Starry, Starry Night ...

2011-03-08T19:32:00.000-08:00

Nancy H's stars:

. . . a closer look:

And that's all for tonight!

A little problem ...

2011-03-07T04:37:00.000-08:00

You can't tell by this picture,

but that snow has drifted to about 3 feet deep there in front of the steps. I used a dustpan to to dig out the stairs.

The problem is that my snow shovel is in the back seat of my car. There. That one.

I hate wet feet. My boots are not tall enough to get thru that snow without it going down inside the boots. It's really, really hard to shovel deep snow with a short-handled dustpan. Guess I'm just going to have to bite the bullet and go fetch. Waaaah!

Copper. Really?

2011-03-06T10:40:00.000-08:00

Natalie (the adult one, not the child one) sent a quilt for me to do, with instructions to do something to "soften" it. She said she would trust my judgment. That's always a risk! I decided to use copper colored thread on her pink and brown quilt. I doubt she'd have chosen it herself, but I think she will be pleased with the outcome. I am.

I auditioned a variety of colors of thread for this quilt, starting first with the obvious browns and pinks. Then I looked at a "neutral" color because I thought the brown was too dark on the back (pink) side. The pink was too light on the dark browns. Neutral creams, tans, etc. just didn't speak to me at all. Then Copper jumped itself off the shelf on onto the quilt, screaming "Pick me! Pick me!" Sure enough ... it seems to be just the ticket.

Front (above), and back (below).

Lesson: don't always go with the "obvious" choice when picking thread. Step out of your usual comfort zone and you may find something serendipitously perfect. (Did I just make up a word there? Anyway ... you get what I mean, right?)

Quilters are coming out of hibernation around here. Speaking of coming out of hibernation, Penny came with her bears. This one will be raffled off at an event called Women of the Wild ... no, that's not right. Maybe it's called Women In The Outdoors? Anyway, something like that -- you can check it out http://www.sungazette.com/page/content.detail/id/528076/Women-in-the-Outdoors-event-scheduled-Mt--Pisgah-State-Park.html?nav=5013 , buy a ticket, and have a chance to win. Penny quilted it here with a pattern that includes bears, pine trees, and such. Bear-y clever!

Becky has been piecing a quilt for Natalie (the child, not the adult) from her old baby blankets. It's becoming quite the large project. Here's what she has done so far:

More quilts to show. Tomorrow. Or the next day?

Spring just around the corner?

2011-02-25T08:42:00.000-08:00

Maybe. Maybe not. This was yesterday:

It was the kind of day when everything was glistening with frosty snow (note the fence board at the front of the photo). I couldn't capture the true sparkle with my camera. Guess you would have had to be here to see how pretty it was.

This was snapped early this morning. So far we've got about 5 inches of new snow. Oh dear ... guess I'll just have to stay inside and quilt today. A shame. A real shame.

Oh, Give. Me. A. Break!

2011-02-21T09:24:00.000-08:00

“The Court summons you to be on call for jury duty for the month …”

WHAT?!? Not again! On call for an entire month?!? This notice did not come from the county court house a half-hour away, mind you. Rather, it is from the state’s District Court which is located in a city an hour-and-a-half away from my home. I would be required to be at the court house first thing in the morning, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Are they kidding me?

There’s got to be a better way. They must be able to find someone else. Unemployment is running rampant. How about someone who’s out of work and might enjoy having something to do and someplace to be for a few days? I have more work than I can get done, as it is. In order to be back in my own kitchen by 7:00 a.m. for coffee still in barn clothes, I have to get up at 5:30 a.m. to start my day. What time would I have to rise to be able to be done with chores, showered, groomed and dressed, drive there, get parked and in that place on time? I shudder to think of it. And what time would I get back for evening chores after a day in court? Will there be enough time to sleep by the time I get done, cook and have something to eat before going to bed?

And in April, no less. April is just about the worst time possible for me to have to report for jury duty. There is just too much that needs to happen here in April. Spring Holy Days, the grandkids’ visit during Spring Break, planting season – to name a few. Ugh.

And that’s not to mention that I’m self-employed and there is nobody to take over if I’m away. For crying out loud, FIND SOMEONE ELSE … PLEASE!

Come to think of it, I wonder if I get called for jury duty more often than most people? This is the second time I’ve been called to District Court, and I’ve been hit up for the county civil court several times. It must be “the aura,” as Kelly calls it. I call do-over. (Isn’t that how we solved problems of unfairness when we were kids?)

The Things We Do For Love …

2011-02-18T11:26:00.000-08:00

If you happen to see me out and about, and notice that it looks like I’m dragging butt, it’s because I’m a little tired. I’ve been staying up late to get mountains of work done, and one day this week I drove to Philadelphia (about 4 hours from here) and back. I had tickets to take the grands there for the circus. I’m glad their Daddy drove from their house into the city. Even though the traffic was not bad, I was happy to relinquish the captain's seat.

This was the first time at the circus for our little four-year-old. Watching HER watch the circus was more fun than a barrel of monkeys. The kids all seemed to enjoy the show, and that made the long day worth it all.

Some of the kids came home with me. We just took a walk, and sang “The Things We Do For Love” most of the way back. Well, we sang our own version of it, that is. We made up lyrics to fit the situation, and bellowed the chorus just as we passed the Amish schoolhouse. (I wonder if they were listening from inside there? Those kids in that school already think I’m crazier than a loon. I’ll tell a story about that another day.) My grandson wore a pedometer to see how many steps it takes to walk down to the swamp we like to visit. It was a disappointingly small number. Seems we’d have to do it about five times to get in the number of steps we set as a daily goal for me. Taking the same walk five times a day could get rather boring, I suppose. I've used the pedometer before to see how I'm doing with my walking plan, and found I have no trouble hitting my target on a normal day. It was just for their amusement, today. Worked like a charm!

While out shopping one day, I found a hockey puck for the grandson whose forte is definitely not sports activity. This was right up his alley! Key word here is WAS. It's gone now.

A plan is hatching ...

2011-02-16T05:23:00.001-08:00

Some of the grands are coming for an extended-weekend visit, so I need a project that can be done without too much concentration, and in very short spurts of time. I think I've got it! I will begin cutting out a quilt I've wanted to make for over a year now. Maybe the kids will want to help choose how the colors go together.

I need 20 pieces of red fabric for this quilt. That's just for the red parts. There are four other colors, but I'll worry about them one at a time. I managed to find enough reds in my stash -- just don't get too picky over the fact that a few of them are leaning heavily toward the "orange" side of red. They're red, I tell ya!

There are sooooo many pieces to this quilt I'll need to develop a system to keep them organized while I'm working on it. Sounds like I'm headed for big trouble, right? Well ... we'll just see about that. If I come up amongst the missing, start looking under a big pile of baggies full of fabric scraps.

Step One is done, and I'm excited (it may be the effect of all those red pieces of fabric in one place):

Who New?

2011-02-09T13:32:00.000-08:00

“Trouble,” – THAT’s who. She's new.
And she's trouble.

This little stinker was trouble from the get-go. It started yesterday as I was about to leave home for several hours. I figured I’d better check on everybody, just so I didn’t worry the whole time I’d be gone. (I tend to do that. Worry, that is. It’s been a lifelong struggle to put it behind me, and the only thing that prevents it is to be sure I’ve done my level best to avert calamity. Then it’s in God’s hands, and if He decides I need more experience to build character, so be it.) Back to my lamb story.

I figured I’d top off the bottle lambs before I left, in case DH was late in getting back for the next feeding. I thought I heard a wee bleating sound coming from the open shed part of the barn. So I peeked inside. I didn’t see anything. When I came back out, the bottle babies came running to be petted. Heard it again. Looked up, and at the corner of the barn there was a little lamb’s head poking outside between two boards on the far wall. To get there, it had to climb into a manger, wheedle its way to the corner and somehow put its head thru a crack that you wouldn’t think big enough.

To wrangle it out, I had to kneel down in the poopy straw bedding, stretch as far as I could to grab its head, and then try to convince the mother I wasn’t trying to decapitate it, so I could pull it back in. Eventually, I got it. But that put the kibosh on doing any errands en route to my appointment. AND … I had to go find another clean pair of jeans and get myself cleaned up before I could leave.

I made it just on time for my appointment at the dentist’s office. (Yes, AGAIN! But this time, only for a check-up.) Everything seems to be okay. Yippee! Leaving the office, while writing out my check to pay, I commented to the gal there that it smelled like cookies in there to me. Get this! She said they were baking cookies – FOR THE AROMA! Who knew? Seems they’ll do ANYthing to alleviate fear in people who are overly anxious about dental work. There apparently has been a study that indicates the smell of a dentist’s office is enough to trigger anxiety in some people (tell me about it!). They bake the cookies and then toss them if nobody takes them. These folks bend over backward to make a visit with them less scary. Gotta love ‘em for that! She did offer me a cookie, but I was on my way out. Had she asked me on my way IN, I may have taken it to hold onto for security.

Off to do some quilting! (I'll show you what I get accomplished ... in the next day or so.)

Finally!

2011-02-05T08:34:00.000-08:00

I've been watching for almost three weeks (ever since I planted them) for these seeds to germinate. If you look very, very carefully, you'll detect the very tiny sprouts of Alpine strawberries beginning to pop. The firstlings appeared this morning. Finally. I hope to renovate an herb garden this year, and will use the Alpine S'berries to border a path. The packet said it can take up to three weeks for the seedlings to appear, but I was getting nervous. Fretting over my seeds gives me something garden-y to do during winter weather. Today we're having a mix of freezing rain and sleet -- snow expected to follow. To keep me busy, I've been peeking at these about every hour on the hour. Oh, too much?

Sherry P came yesterday and quilted a HUGE quilt. The back is pieced, as well as the top -- such clever use of her scraps, mostly florals.

Sherry chose a lightweight batting to make a comfy summer quilt.

JoAnne H left these three cuties for me to quilt. I find myself trying to guess what she will do with them ... there are three, each a little different, but with mostly the same fabrics. I think she has three children ... maybe one for each? I'll have to ask.

It's my day off, so I think I'll go get cozy with a nice cup of coffee and a book, sit by the fire and enjoy it.

A trip to the hospital ...

2011-02-01T05:29:00.000-08:00

I had to drive myself to the hospital yesterday, due to multiple stab wounds.

I’ll bet THAT got your attention! Here’s the story: I went to the doctor’s office yesterday. They decided I needed blood work. Three different “technicians” tried to draw blood, without success. When they poked me enough that it was making me nauseous to hear any more about veins rolling and irritated at the number of bruises I was getting, I told them that was enough – no more. I was sent to the hospital to see if anyone there could get blood out of my arm. Of course, by then, it was lunchtime and everything was moving pretty slowly there.

There were a number of people in the waiting area, among them one little girl who’s mother was preoccupied with texting on her cell phone. Of course! That seems to have become the thing people do. Here was a little girl who had obviously injured her hand, and who was being very patient waiting in a place where there were no other children to talk to, no toys to amuse her – not even a children’s book or magazine to look at to pass the time. And the mother? On the phone. She sat two inches from my elbow, so I couldn’t help but overhear her conversation. What did she say? She said (about the little girl with her) that “whereEVER you take ____, she’s bad!” The child was behaving perfectly. I wanted to smack the mother! I thought the least SHE could have done was talk to the girl to be good company for her.

The girl looked at me, we smiled at each other and then she moved to the seat on my other side. I showed her a picture in a magazine I was looking at. She asked me who it was. I told her it looked to me like Captain Underpants. That made her giggle. Then she counted for me, showed me how her shoes light up if you jump up and down, etc. Pretty soon they called her in to attend to her injury.

Then it was my turn. The nurse there got the blood on the first try. I hope the Mom learns to enjoy her child before the opportunity passes.

A few more of my CW blocks:

What's NOT said ...

2011-01-26T07:55:00.000-08:00

In a comment about choosing seeds, KP asked, "How are you supposed to narrow down what kinds of tomatoes or peppers or peas to grow when they make them all sound fabulous?" The answer: Read what is NOT said. If the description goes on and on about how prolific a plant is, gotta wonder why they don't say much about how the produce tastes! Or, do they readily succumb to cooties? If they make a big deal of the showy flower the plant makes, it might be a clue that you'd better learn to appreciate it, because it will not produce many to look at, and therefore, few fruits. Or, if it’s a special hybrid the packet might include only about four seeds – does it say how many are in there? And so on and so forth.

My biggest complaints about seed descriptions are about the ones that don't give enough information to make a good decision about whether or not it will grow in my area. Officially, we're in zone 5. In reality, it's more like a zone 4 here in our microclimate. Winters here are more like Siberia than the part of our county that is closer to the river. So I need to know if the seeds/plants I'm going to invest in are up to the challenge. I really appreciate a company that gives as much info as possible – would hate to find out something I bought is really only suited to zone 7, and believe it or not, some catalogs are very vague on this subject.

I think I have a plan for the oddballs (of yarn, that is). Here's part one -- look how close it came to running out of yarn before it ended!

Now I'd better quit messing around and get to work.

The fun just never ends ...

2011-01-24T06:14:00.000-08:00

Well below zero here this morning. Going out is manageable with multiple layers of wool and fleece. If only I could keep my feet warm! The animals are all fine out in the barn, but a water pipe started spewing, and the only way to stop it was to shut off the main valve which also turns off the water to the house. It will have to stay that way until DH returns and comes to my rescue. I don't mind coffee left over from yesterday for breakfast so much, but I can't make my oatmeal because I used up all the water that was left in the teapot to wash my hands. Guess I'll just hafta go with the blueberry pie. Too bad.

And if my car doesn't refuse to start, I'll be heading to the dentist again today. Oh, yippee!

Here are the newest additions to my CW collection. I'm beginning to wonder what kind of mess I'm into with all these different patterns and colors. Let's hope for the best, because I intend to continue.