Monday, April 12, 1999 - Cinnamon Rolls, Embroidering, and How to Sew One's Self into One's Dress

            Last Monday when Larry arrived in Loveland, Colorado, where he was to deliver the 1957 Chevrolet he’d hauled there on his slant trailer, he discovered, of all things, that the people to whom he was delivering the vehicle were former schoolmates of ours from high school!  Small world, yes?

            After retrieving some vehicles at Lincoln Auto of Denver Tuesday, Larry got home about 11:15 p.m.  Earlier that evening, Lawrence and Norma brought us a batch of cookies baked by Katie and Danielle.  They were made of fine-blended oats and chopped Hershey bars, among other things.  Yummy!

            Thursday night while I was in Jr. Choir, Norma brought us a pan full of just-out-of-the-oven cinnamon rolls.  Is she trying to fatten us up, do you think?  And then I couldn’t help my­self; I had to buy a big jar of honey-roasted peanuts the next time I was at the store.  Only Planters brand will do, for me.  And then do you know what I did?  I actually hid it in the cupboard, so that Hannah and I could snack on them after all the younger children went to bed!  Is that greedy and devious, or what?

            I’ve been feeling rather guilty about it, though; I suppose I’ll have to buy another jar of them, and divide them up evenly amongst everybody.

            Did I ever tell you that Larry's cousin Arthur had colon cancer?  Well, several months ago, after a series of surgeries and treatments, we were all happy to hear that the cancer seemed to be gone.  However, he hasn’t really recovered well.  Tuesday the doctors discovered cancer in his liver, extensive enough that operating on it isn’t possible.  His prognosis is not good, I’m afraid.  He’s only 44 years old, and his youngest daughter is 13.

            I’ve been spending every minute I can find embroidering a cluster of three col­umbines on four linen napkins, which I am hoping to give to Kevin and Ann, who will be married next week.  I got a big, lidded Rubber­maid bowl, a hand juicer, and a cookbook for them, too; so, just in case I don’t get done, I still have enough gifts, I think.  Hannah finished the doily she was making for them; it has a dozen small pineapples around the center, and a dozen large pineapples making outward points all around the outside.  She pressed it and lightly starched it, and it’s quite beautiful.

            Dorcas has been crocheting a pretty white blanket, and now she is putting a wide mint green ruffle all the way around.  When that is done, she’ll put a narrower ruffle of white on top of the green one, and weave a ribbon all around the edge, with bows and ribbon roses at each corner.

            Wednesday when I was getting ready for church, I put on a new plum and teal flowered dress I’d gotten at the Goodwill in Grand Island.  It had a large bow at the neck, the ends of which kept lopping over every which way.  I quickly threaded a needle and made a small stitch at either end of the bow, tacking it neatly to the dress.  So everything was fine and dandy.....until it was time to take it back off again.  You see, the dress but­tons up the front, and I’d tacked that bow down on either side of the placket.  Guess what happens when you try to take a dress off after doing such a thing?

            Right.  You’re stuck.

            Bother; haven’t I learned anything after all these years of sewing?!

            Bobby gave Hannah a 70-300mm lens for her new Canon camera, and a humon­gous case to go with it.  I took a good look at it.  “Of all the nerve!” I said to Bobby, “That case is bigger than mine!”  I shook my head.  “The first guy never wins.”

            Bobby just laughed.  Hannah used her new lens Easter Sunday, and she got a lot of excellent pictures.

            Every time I tuck Victoria into bed, naptime or bedtime, I tell her, “I love you!” as I close the door.  Well, one evening, I tucked her into her bed, then spent a moment or two turning on her fan and checking the thermostat on her little heater.  Evidently I took too long to give her my usual declaration, for she suddenly sang out, “Ni-night!  I love me!”

            The following afternoon, I duplicated my actions of the previous day, wondering what the child would say this time.  Then, she chirped happily, “Ni-night!  Jesus loves me!”

            Larry is somewhat like Dagwood, liking to take naps at bedtime, as opposed to actually getting ready for and going to bed; and somewhat like a large, friendly puppy, liking to take these naps at the location nearest to wherever Hannah and I are working, sewing, crocheting, doing bookwork, typing, and so forth.  Well, the other night when I was ready to go to bed, I tried rousing Larry, who was sleeping on the couch.  I patted his shoulder.  “Larry!” I said, “Go take a shower and get ready for bed!”

            He lifted his head a bit and stared at me without a great deal of recognition.  Then he flopped back down, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of the computer.  “Can’t,” he informed me.  “I tried to run ‘Shower’ a little bit ago, but it refused to take the pro­gram.”  And he shut his eyes and took a slow, deep breath.

            Saturday Keith came to get his mower.  The littles greeted him at the front door with much boisterous gladness, especially after they discovered that he’d brought us a box of chocolate chip cookies he’d made himself.  “I taught him well,” I told his siblings, chewing my way through a soft, warm cookie.  “These are good!”

            I was planning to spend Saturday afternoon and evening cooking and baking for Sunday’s dinner, when Bobby, Keith, and Esther would be coming, but it suddenly oc­curred to Dorcas that her thesis on Corrie ten Boom, a Dutch woman who, with her fam­ily, provided hiding places for the Jews during World War II, was due on Monday.  And I’d promised to type it for her.  So I wound up staying up half the night Saturday typing the report, and most of the night last night printing it out and completing the typing of the Bibliography.  Also, since there were a few things in the rough draft that were not well-connected, I wound up reading almost one entire book, The Hiding Place, by Corrie ten Boom, so that I could figure out how to write some of the report.  Corrie ten Boom and her family were eventually betrayed, arrested, and taken to prison.  From there, they were taken to a concentration camp in the middle of Germany.  Her father died only ten days after the arrest, and her sister died in the camp in Germany.  A brother died later, after his release, from the mistreatment he’d received while at one of the camps.

            Some time after Corrie was released, she learned that her release was carried through because of a case of mistaken identity--she’d been slated for execution, along with all the women her age, the very next week.  98,000 women died at that concentra­tion camp, Ravensbruck, there in Germany.  Isn’t that awful?  Corrie ten Boom wrote several books before her death in 1975 at the age of 91.

            Now, I’d better get back to the embroidery; the wedding is next Sunday!