Honey ... I'm home!

I know it's been a while since I last posted -- but I was honestly surprised to see HOW long it's been when I opened this up and started this entry. Time flies ...

The trip to Lancaster was followed by a week with my grands and their friend visiting. Now, that's a houseful of fun! The mother cat was very accommodating -- had kittens in the barn just in time to be admired by all. Mother cat didn't have a name, so one granddaughter dubbed her "Mommy," and informed baby sister "that's 'Mommy' ." The little one said, "Oh." Then she came back into the house with me and told her grandfather, "My Mommy turned into a kitty!" That didn't seem to be overly startling to her. Kids just crack me up. Oh ... did I mention that this child has a little trouble pronouncing her Ks? She pronounces them as Ts. Now read it again -- it's funnier.

Everybody left, and I headed up to New England for a training seminar. Caught up with a long-time friend there, and touched base with some acquaintances -- made some new ones. A good time was had by all. I popped in for a brief visit with a brother while I was in his area just to throw a bit more commotion into the mix. The trip home was a bit much.

In the slightly-more-than-a-week during which all of the above transpired, we went from having six inches of snow one day, to having nearly 90-degree heat. A few of the plantlings in the hoop house bit it while I was gone. (Forgot to ask anybody to babysit them. Rats!) Some of the trees are blossoming, spring bulbs and forsythia are going great guns. And I'm thinking it's about time to start planning for the return of the hummingbirds.

I'm not sure if it's exactly correct in a scientific way, but I always expect them to return on the 2nd of May. I once made a quilt that has all the colors of the hummers in it. (Hand-pieced and quilted it in the car while DH drove the family to and all about Boston for a vacation one year.) I didn't start out with the hummers in mind, but that's what it made me think of. Being a nut-case who always names my projects, I called this one "Hummers Return on Mom's Birthday" and hung it on a wall. And that is now I remember when to start filling the feeders for them.

Last year I made a true scientific discovery. Or at least I think that's what it was. Namely, I think the center of the Earth is actually made up of sugar and boiling water. Here's how I figured that out: I put an old glass coffee pot of sugar and water in the proportions needed to create the syrup used to fill the hummingbird feeders. I started it on the stove, went to check my e-mail while I waited for it to boil, and promptly got engrossed in my messages.

After a while (I have NO idea how much time had passed, but I'm thinking it was a LOT!), I sniffed the air and thought, "Smells like someone's baking cookies." Now, a minute or two later it smelled like the cookies were burning. I realized how bizarre that was because I was the only one home, and the nearest neighbor is about 1/4-mile away and not likely to be baking cookies at 6:00 a.m. So I decided to go investigate. When I got to the kitchen, I was totally freaked. It was filled with a thick smoke. It took a few seconds for me to remember the pot on the stove.

I turned off the fire under the pot, let it sit there whilst I opened windows and flagged the door open and closed to draw the smoke from the house. Then I took a look. The stuff that started out as sugar and water had become lava. It had oozed up and out of the pot, down the side of the stove, onto the floor -- you would not believe how much lava can be made from a few cups of sugar and water! Shoot -- it probably wouldn't take more than a five-pound bag of sugar and a gallon of water to fill the entire planet!

Here's the pot, removed to the grill outside because I was afraid it might next burst into flames:

need a hot pad?

I made a trip last week to the quilt show in Lancaster, PA. En route, I decided to see how many quilt/fabric shops I could find and browse. I made myself a plan, and stopped at nearly every one on my list of about twenty. Most of them were variations on a theme -- rows and rows of bolts of fabric all neatly ordered by color, by designer, or by category. All but one.

The first thing you notice when you pass through the front door of this particular shop is a big wooden staircase right smack in the middle of the store. Of course, this makes a person want to head right up those stairs to see what's on the second floor. And there was a message to be read on each and every riser going up. But before I could get that far, I first had to pass by the person running the shop (the owner, maybe?) who was seated at a small table, feverishly working on making something. The next thing I realized is that the huge pile -- and by that I mean a heap about 10 feet wide, 5 feet deep and about as high as I am tall -- between me and the stairway was actually hot pads. In every imaginable color and fabric pattern. There had to be hundreds of them there! Maybe thousands.

I worked my way around this place, amidst frighteningly tall stacks of fabric on bolts, wondering who was the sorry soul that might have to do inventory at the end of the year. Eventually, I found myself back face to face with the person working at the little table. Trying to make a little conversation, I asked if she had been over to see the quilt show a few miles away. Her reply was that she was too busy working. Guess what she was doing?!? Making more hot pads! Oh, my!

I tell you what ... if you're ever in need of a hot pad, tell me and I'll head you in the right direction. If you've ever been to this particular shop, you'll know exactly what I mean. It's unforgettable.

Oh, yeah ... they had lots of quilts for sale, too.




















(photo taken and sent to me by someone I know who happened upon this shop, too -- thanks, Penny)

duh ...

In the last post, I referred to the recycled grain bag totes, intending to put a link to the correct day's post to see what I was talking about. Then I promptly forgot to put the link in there. Sorry 'bout that. If you want to find it, go to the post for January 31st -- it's in there.


Leaners:













Guess I'd better get them moved to a position under the lights, before they tip completely over. I planted these seeds three days ago; this morning they were barely visible above the soil line, and by this afternoon when I looked again ... whoa, baby! Is this the plant version of a stampede?

Superwoman was here today ...

This gal called me a few days ago and said she'd like to schedule a day in the studio to use one of our machines to finish up a quilt she needs to get done real soon. Okay, so we set the date for Sunday (today), chatted a while to catch up with each other's lives because it's been a few months since we've talked. Right before she hung up, she said, "Oh, yeah ... I have to tell you ... I just bought the fabric yesterday."

What?!? I asked if I should put her appointed time on the calendar in pencil, then? Nope ... she was pretty sure she'd get it done in time. Okay, then ...

I didn't get a call to reschedule, so thought she probably slapped a few squares and rectangles together in order to get a quilt put together in time. Well ... look at this quilt she did!




















(click on photo to enlarge)

Note especially how she fancied up the borders by creating the extension of the beige into the red, and the how the red spills in to make the corners more decorative. Impressive, no?

Today, she did the quilting, using an all-over swirly sort of design that was a good choice because it doesn't overwhelm the piecing, but adds just the right touch. You can't see it in this photo, because I forgot to snap a close-up -- but she used a warm brown thread. Perfect!

If this is intended to be a gift, I don't know how she'll part with it.

Of course, I had to tell her about the recycled grain bag shopping totes some of us are making. Don't forget, if you e-me a photo of yours when you get it done, your name goes in a drawing for a free day in the studio. If you don't know how to use the machines, I'll show you -- it's easy and fun! If you DO know how to use it already, you can use the free day to finish a top into a quilt. The deadline to send my the photo of your finished bag is March 31. Winner of the drawing will be notified April 1. If you have no clue what I'm talking about, go here.

P.S. -- you can see what kind of gorgeous day we were having here by looking over her shoulder at the beautiful blue sky.

My entourage

My entourage, in part:

Lazy --














and Lazier. They're siblings.















We keep them for the amusement of the grandkids. They are totally useless for catching mice. In fact, there was a mouse in one of the grain barrels one morning. I threw Lazier into the barrel, thinking he'd catch it and consider it a special treat. That cat was afraid of the mouse! He couldn't get out of the barrel fast enough.

The one in the first picture is the kind of cat who wants to be underfoot at all times. He follows me and Tuck down the road when we head out for a walk. He never gets past the first quarter-mile stretch. No, not because he's lazy. That's where we have to pass a house that three dogs call home. They bark like fools every single time we go by. You'd think they'd get used to it after a while, but they don't seem to. The small, yappy one is a total idiot of a dog. There's one of those electric fences around the yard, and every (and I mean EVERY) time we pass by, it runs thru the fence to yap at my heels, gets shocked by the fence, and screeches -- shaking it's head as if that came as a total surprise. Good grief! This has been going on for years.

I have a friend who suggests I feed him a hamburger as I go by ... one laced with sleeping pills. As tempting as that may be when it's snapping at my heels, I'm an animal lover and could never do it.

Hmmphf!

Short tour:
















These would be up and coming tulips.

and Snowdrops that escaped the attention of the geese:

















(I have to move them around frequently so the geese don't find and devour them all)

Spellbinding, no?

One day this week, I had company visiting. DH brought the mail in when he arrived home from work, tossed it on the table. Company or no company, when mail arrives, I must know if I got anything worth looking at. DH asked the usual question, "Anything good?" To which I replied, "A new seed catalog." He turned to my friend and said, "After you leave, she will look at that thing for an HOUR. And she'll take it to bed tonight and look at it some more before she goes to sleep. She can read the same page for 40 minutes!"

Response from guest who shall remain anonymous until I've decided whether or not she'll be forgiven: "Riveting!" (And then they both howled with laughter.) Hmmphf! See if she gets any fresh tomatoes from MY garden this summer!

And all this brought back to mind another, similar incident. I once overheard DH telling one of his buddies that "She read a whole BOOK about sweet peas! And get this: her SISTER read it first and then GAVE it to her." The buddy's response: "No WAY!" as if they were in disbelief there could be two people in the world who'd read a whole book about sweet peas. As for him ... maybe he'll have fresh berries for dinner next time he comes. Nanny-berries. (I'm not referring to Viburnum Lentago here.)

Point is, either you've got it or you don't. The gardening gene. Apparently it's a sex-linked trait, dominant in my family. My sister has a whole greenhouse, and propagates new plants just because she can. Then she finds someone to give them to so she has space to do some more. I actually think my gardening gene might have lain dormant had it not been for her. My brother, on the other hand, once saw my Autumn Joy sedum growing at the edge of a bed and asked, "What's this? Broccoli?"

When I was still a student, my sister used to take me on "tours" of her back yard so I could see all her gardening handiwork. At that point in my life, it wasn't exactly spellbinding for me either ... but interesting enough that I tucked away some of her helpful hints for future reference. Once I was married with children, gardening became an obsession. One thing led to another, and now look where it has landed me!

I convinced my husband that the garden was much too small ... that we needed a place with more space for gardening. The animals came to fulfill the need for more compost! Crazy? Maybe. But I wouldn't trade it for anything. It suits me, and gives my husband something to laugh about with his friends.

Oh ... about my friend? ... I've decided to forgive her. I just remembered something. She recently gave me a gift just so to have an excuse to present it in this bag she couldn't resist buying, thinking it perfect for me:




















Isn't that too funny?

Okay ... I'm off to see if there's a spot where I can plant some peas. Yesterday, it was too wet. Do you think a day of sunshine is enough to dry things up a bit? If nothing else, gardeners are optimists.

The Gardener's Morning
The robin's song at daybreak
Is a clarion call to me.
Get up and get out in the garden,
For the morning hours flee.

I cannot resist the summons,
What earnest gardener could?
For the golden hours of morning
Get into the gardener's blood.

The magic spell is upon me,
I'm glad that I did not wait;
For life's at its best in the morning,
As you pass through the garden gate.

- Howard Dolf

Stampede!

I feel like the grandma in that stupid Christmas song, "Grandma got run over by a reindeer ..."

I went to the barn this morning, per usual, and also per usual, went about the business of feeding the critters anxiously awaiting breakfast. As I entered the last pen of sheep, imagine my shock when one of the ewes bolted right at my chest, knocking me kler-plewie ... flat on my back. Whoa! What was THAT for?!?!

(oh, yeah ... yesterday some of the lambs were taken from their moms -- and hers were among them ... mind you, I was not the one who took the young'uns, but she IS a sheep, after all, and they're not exactly known for their smarts)

Well, due to the complete unexpected nature of the event, I yelled something ... which started a chain of events which I (surprisingly enough, but thankfullly) lived to regret. My yelling upset my constant companion and protector Tuck (my Border Collie). He came dashing into the pen to come to my aid, but instead got the sheep all in a lather. They ALL started jumping around and hurling themselves at anything they could find (me, always me). No kidding -- they took turns flailing about, jumping on my head, my legs, my body, back to the head. All the while, I could not manage to get to my feet for all the flying wool-covered appendages battering me head to toe. Literally!

I finally realized that if they were ever to calm down, I'd have to convince the dog I would do okay without his help. Right. He thinks he has to help me with everything. But he followed my command to "get OUT of here" and I was able to stumble to my feet.

Stunned. Totally stunned. I'd never been the victim of a stampede before. I'm a little sore today. When I related this sad tale to my DH, he couldn't even manage to contain his hilarity long enough for me to turn my back. Tsk!