Hester has been busy this week typing a report on Venus. She has not done much typing before, and it is a looong, slow process, hunting for the letters on the keyboard. But the worst part about it is that it can be a hair-raising thing to look up ‘Venus’ in the Encarta Encyclopedia, because one is more likely to land on the goddess Venus than the planet Venus, for there are more entries for the former than for the latter. Aarrgghh!
Monday, Dorcas made us banana bars for dessert--before supper. Yes, as always, she likes dessert first. ha
That evening, Teddy was working on a large picture he and Amy are going to hang behind the gift table downstairs at church, and then later in their home. It has a big painting by Thomas Kinkade, and on either side there are cutouts in which are Bible verses. And then…he got butter (or peanut butter or jelly or mayonnaise or miracle whip or axle grease or cottonseed oil or schmaltz or bear tallow or goose fat or something on that order) at the middle top of one of the mattes, and of course once you butter something, it stays buttered. And it had cost $30. (The matte; not the schmaltz.)
Then, in a great deal of consternation, he gave forth all effort to figure out what to do about it…and I began to fear that if he didn’t listen to reason, his cure would be worse than the kill.
He tried to rub it off with a towel.
He tried to erase it.
He plucked off the gold plaque at the bottom, on which is engraved ‘Teddy and Amy Lynn, October 13, 2002’, and set it over the smudge.
It didn’t quite cover it, so he gave serious thought to carving a hole for it (doubtless with his trusty pocketknife).
I stood nearby squawking and protesting and offering all manner of my own suggestions.
Finally the kid carried frame, double mattes, pictures, and glass down to his room, where I fervently hoped it would be safe until the next day. In the morning, he took the top matte, the one on which the goop had dropped anchor, to the frame shop (as in picture frame, not auto frame), to see if they could cut a beveled hole in the top matte, where he could insert the small gold plaque.
“You would do well to give that thing back to Amy before you get something else on it, have to have another hole cut…and on and on until it resembles Swiss cheese,” I informed him.
He grinned ruefully.
Larry put in my three--yes, three--broken piano strings. Once that was done, it badly needed a tuning. And another tuning. And another tuning. And another tuning… New strings have too much elasticity in them, you see, and won’t hold their tuning jobs for a while.
I sewed some four-inch-wide elaborate ivory lace onto a flowered corduroy jumper of Victoria’s that had gotten too short, also putting it on the wide straps, so that lace ruffles go over her shoulders. And then, to Victoria’s great satisfaction, I found a navy star applique that had fallen off the collar of her red polka dot dress. I sewed it back on, and she happily wore it to school.
At noon, I got all my china plates out of the dishwasher and asked Teddy to put them in the cupboard for me, as I can’t reach the shelf without a chair, and a dozen china plates are heavy.
“Okay,” he said agreeably.
“And don’t do it like you usually do,” I admonished.
“I won’t,” he said absentmindedly.
I rushed off to put Victoria’s hair into a ponytail, and in the meantime Teddy went back to work. I walked back into the kitchen--and there were the plates, still sitting right where I’d stacked them.
Aarrgghh! He did it like he usually does!
In Monday’s mail I was delighted to find the steel pins with the glass heads I’d ordered. The sewing company says I owe them another $1.50 for postage and handling. Humbug! That makes postage and handling for two small boxes of 250-count pins almost equal to the price of another box of pins! Before postage, the pins cost 2½¢ apiece. After, 3½¢. Good grief. But I do enough sewing--which includes pinning--that I cannot bear to use ten-penny nails to jab through pattern and fabric. It is entirely frustrating to have a cushion full of dull, fat pins that refuse to go through such things as single knit, and when you try to pin the pattern pieces on, you wind up tearing the pattern to shreds. Aauugghh.
By the time school was over at 3:30, I’d finished Hester’s black jumper, putting white lace and ribbon on the front bodice piece, all the way around it, and buttons down the front.
When Caleb and Victoria got home from school, we went off to the frame shop (the picture frame shop, that is, not the auto frame shop) to get Teddy’s matte.
The beveled hole is slightly crooked.
Teddy is thinking strongly about getting a whole new one…but, what with paying his first month’s rent, getting all the utilities started, buying furniture, a suit for the wedding, and a million and one other necessary things, he’s been going through his savings like chicken soup.
When Teddy came home at suppertime, the plates were still right where I’d left them. Or right where he’d left them. One or the other. He spotted them as soon as he walked into the kitchen, which is amazing enough…
“Oh, I just remembered--” he stopped in mid sentence and came walking around the table to get them. “LOOK!” he exclaimed, pointing to the opposite side of the room.
Everybody looked. Then, while everyone's attention was elsewhere, Teddy snatched up the plates and rushed back around the table toward the cupboard in which they belonged, trying to shield them with his body so I wouldn’t see them. That goof.
“Slow down and be careful before you drop them!” I yelped.
He grinned at me.
When supper was over, I sewed the skirt for Lydia’s suit. I put a zipper in it that has been lurking in one of my sewing drawers for a long time--a zipper specifically for knit shirts, and it has a ring on it instead of a tab. Lydia thinks it’s the cat’s meow. Done with that, I started sewing the top--and discovered I had neglected to cut out the lining. Sooo…I decided to type in my journal.
Teddy is fixing up our old water distiller so that he and Amy can use it. It works; it just needs to be thoroughly cleaned. He spray-painted it black--and then made his father’s hair stand up on end when he suggested taking it to Precision Uni-Body (where he works) to clean it out with the stuff they use to clean out their paint guns.
“NO!!!” yelped Larry, horrified. “You’ll ruin the distiller and kill yourselves in the process!” He made a valiant attempt to get his blood pressure back under control. “You have to use something non-toxic, like citric acid or Lumin, which is specifically made for it.”
How in the world do fresh-married young’ns survive???
Hannah and Aaron stopped in for a few minutes that evening. Aaron dearly loves the girls’ little cups of beads he finds sitting around here and there, and he trots around carrying them by the itsy-bitsy handles, looking ever so cute. Of course, he without fail spills them…and I without fail scramble around picking them up while Aaron stands holding the cup for me to put them in, blank of face. This is how we convince our grandchildren we love them, yes?
When they got ready to go, Aaron said, “Bye-bye!”
We all responded, “Bye-bye,” like a room full of loving parrots, and Aaron continued sweetly, “Goin’ to wook!” (work)
That night while I curled Lydia’s hair, Hester washed Victoria’s feet for her (the rest of the child was spic-and-span), then wrapped a towel around her feet--and pinned it on good and tight with a diaper pin. Here came Victoria, then, out into living room, hobbling along, laughing her head off. Now that was something Hannah might have done to Hester herself, back when they were the same age. Hannah is the same number of years older than Hester--nine--that Hester is than Victoria. (Did that sense make sentence?)
Wednesday, it rained most of the day. Since Joseph didn’t have to work, he decided it was the perfect time to go shopping for a new pair of shoes, splurging on some at the rather elite Brown’s Shoes in the U.S. 30 Mall. Yes, they are comfortable; but they certainly are mighty funny-looking things. Larry told him that they look like ballet slippers, which sure enough made Joseph make faces.
About the time Hester and Lydia came home from school, I remembered: they needed shoes for church; they just plain can’t cram their foot into any of my black shoes another moment. Besides, they’re ruining them. Also, I thought we needed to buy a white blouse for Hester to wear with the black jumper I’d just finished sewing. Sooo…first we headed for the Salvation Army, where sometimes there are oodles of nice white blouses to choose from.
We walked in the door--and, bingo! There on a rack right inside the door were rows of nearly-new shoes --black and navy shoes, just what they needed for church. We found four pairs that fit them in short order, and they were only $1.50 a pair. We then headed for the blouses. The prettiest one I found was in a size 16--and that won’t quite do, for a size 4 girl. We came home with three blouses, which we had to wash before anyone could wear them, because the new girl working there smokes like a chimney. When she said, “Thank you,” right in my face, she blew me down flat with breath reeking of cigarettes, fish, garlic, and dead mice. Wheweeeeeeeeee.
Home again, I went back to sewing and washing clothes…and the washer and dryer both sound like they’re on their last legs. Botheration. Why hasn’t the man from Sears ever come back again? Why doesn’t he ever call? Why have I only gotten one small box with replacement parts, when, for the same problem last year, I got the small box plus a humongous box with a whole new barrel in it?
Who knows; but I won’t be calling him any time soon, because the way is almost blocked down there in that dreadful shelf room. Well…it really isn’t so badly messed up; it’s just full. Full of racks upon racks of clothes for this kid and that kid to grow into someday. Some will go into Hester and Lydia’s new closet--whenever their new closet is finally done.
After church, Teddy and Amy took another pickup load of things to their house. Little by little, they are getting things moved. You ought to see their collective books…they’ve filled all three of their tall new bookcases!
When he came home, he was starved, as usual. Crackers! That’s what he wanted. He reached for the box of Saltines.
There were two small squares left.
Two; that was all.
Sooo…he got an enormous scoop of peanut butter out of the jar, put about three inches between his crackers, and shaped it into a perfect cube. Victoria came dashing to tell me all about it, and I could hear Lydia in the kitchen exclaiming in horror over it.
Then Teddy pretended he’d taken a bite and could hardly talk: “Dgjish shtuff ish sherrrrrr shticky!”
He played with Socks for a bit, sending him scampering all over the living room after his rabbit-fur mouse. He then picked the cat up, cuddled him, and informed me, “This cat is coming with me.”
“Huh-uh!” I replied.
Teddy, for all he yearns for a dog, sho’ ‘nuff likes them there cats, he does he does.
Every day, it seems, Victoria comes home knowing another new song. She is learning things by leaps and bounds, and what she learns, she remembers. And what she learns, we learn. School is a delightful thing!
Thursday, I finished Lydia’s suit. It has a scalloped neckline, short tulip sleeves, bright blue buttons in the back, cadet blue and pink flowers on it. I then launched into Caleb’s denim jacket with the burgundy fur yokes and cuffs. I wish my machine would do the keyhole buttonholes like most jeans jackets have.
Dorcas already gave me an early present for my birthday: a framed photo she took of a broad-tailed hummingbird preparing to drink nectar from one of her feeders at Mama’s house. That girl! She just can’t wait!
Thursday, another rather rainy day, Larry was driving the boom truck to a job somewhere out in the country. Bobby and his brother Matthew were in one of the Walker Construction pickups some distance ahead of him, and Charles, my niece Susan’s husband and the young man who has taken over the reins since David died, was in another company pickup a ways behind.
The roads they were traveling were wet and sloppy, and sometimes the quantities of dirt and mud exceeded the gravel. They came to a curve in the road.
Now, this bend was banked high on the outside, low on the inside…and it was muddy. Really, really muddy.
Bobby and Matthew slid off the road, right into the ditch.
As there was no getting back up on the road from that position, they bumped through the cornfield until they got to an elevation where they could drive back onto it.
Larry arrived at the curve.
He slowed and began to feel his way through the quagmire.
The rear end of the truck started slipping.
Mind you, this big truck was loaded with a top-heavy cargo of nine-foot forms
Larry pushed in the clutch, hoping to coast straight forward and land on something wherein traction could be found.
No such luck.
The front end of the truck began sliding.
It slid…and it slid…and it slid…and nothing Larry could do would bring it back around. With a steep ditch yawing hungrily at the side, Larry had no choice but to turn the wheels toward the ditch and try to avoid a tip-over.
Even that produced no seeming effects in the slightest. The big truck did not turn; it merely slid right into the ditch sideways, tilting alarmingly, making everybody’s hair stand straight up on end--even Larry’s. And for that to happen, it had to have been tilted badly, believe me. He is normally so calm, cool, and collected when such things happen, I want to tie his ears behind his head.
Well, Larry put the truck in gear, again turned toward the ditch, slowly let the clutch out, and drove on down into the cornfield, the truck gradually leveling.
The collective sighs of relief were audible all the way up to Kalamazoo, prompting several local weather forecasters to issue high-wind advisories. The symphony orchestra retuned their entire brass section, and the paper mill shut down its rotary boiler and the Yankee machines in order to check the steam pressure.
And then Charles came around the corner.
And slid into the ditch.
He, too, drove through the edge of the cornfield to get to the job…and thus, everyone arrived safely.
On the way home, they took the same road--there was no other choice. The rain had stopped, and the road looked to be more navigable…but as soon as they hit that gooey corner, all three--the two pickups and the boom truck--slid into the ditch, one after another. (Yes; they waited for the one in front of them to extricate himself before they pitched themselves in.) At least this time the boom truck was empty, and not in danger of tipping over.
So through the cornfield they went, out the other side, and onto the road again.
This week, two of their jobs can be accessed only via hilly, curvy, minimum-maintenance roads. The chance of rain is low…let’s hope the clouds are paying attention to the weathermen, and follow their advice!
Early Friday morning, I rushed to my sewing machine to sew like anything, flank speed emergency, on Caleb’s jacket, getting it done and ironed just in time for him to wear to school--but it was too big. Rats! Humbug! Botheration!
Oh, well; room to grow on, and all that. He’s been wearing it in spite of its amplitude. He’s quite fond of it, especially after his big brother Keith exclaimed properly over it and told him that it was just like some at Cabela’s, the largest sports outfitter in the world.
I then sewed Caleb’s gray and red knit top--and it’s too big, too. I used patterns from the same envelope, you see--and they were both in a size 12. Sooo…the jury is in: Size 12 is definitely too big. At least, a sewn size 12 is.
Here is a continuation of the list of things I’ve cut out, starting with #27:
27. Black dress Hannah
28. Navy denim overalls Aaron
29. Navy denim engineer’s hat Aaron
30. Charcoal denim overalls Aaron
31. Charcoal denim engineer’s hat Aaron
32. Brown striped western shirt Aaron
33. Dusty green single-knit skirt and top Lydia
34. Red plaid single-knit jumper Lydia
35. Beige w/pink flower single-kit top Hester
36. Dress w/blue print skirt, pink check top Victoria
37. Yellow cotton calico w/red flowers and
red calico sailor collar & tie Victoria
38. Red calico top & skirt Hester
39. Navy single knit top Hester
40. Black flowered jumper Hester
41. Heavy cotton white w/blue & pink flowered suit Lydia
42. Heavy cotton white w/ blue & pink flowered skirt Victoria
Hannah’s black dress is done (in a cooperative effort)… and I have sewn Hester’s black flowered jumper, Lydia’s blue and pink flowered suit, Caleb’s denim jacket with the burgundy fur yokes and cuffs, Caleb’s red and gray knit top, Victoria’s blue and pink flowered skirt, and Hester’s navy top. And the mending is caught up. Er, uh, that is, it was caught up; I have since found a pair of jeans to patch, a couple of dresses that need buttons put back on, and a taffeta dress that needs a fabric rose reattached.
Lydia and Caleb’s class went to Loup Park Friday morning at 10:30, taking their bikes so they could ride on the bike trail. They ate dinner there, too. Lydia wore her new top and skirt. After school, her friend Amber came to visit, and Lydia and Amber went for a bike ride. Before long, they were back again, and the next thing I knew, Lydia was putting on a different skirt.
“Why did you change?” I wanted to know, prepared to tell her she should change the whole outfit and not wear the new suit when she was playing outside. In fact, it occurred to me that she shouldn’t have worn it that day at all, since they’d gone to Loup Park.
And then she held the discarded skirt out to me and said, “I got it caught in my bike tire and brake.”
It was ripped. I mean, it was ripped. What I mean to say is, was it ever ripped. That poor skirt, that poor new skirt, I might add, was ripped right through the hem and up the side three-quarters of the way to the waistband.
Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiighghghghghghgh.
I took it from her, went into my bedroom where I was just getting ready to sew Victoria’s skirt of the same material, and sewed the poor thing back together again. It now has an extra sideseam. AARRGGHHHH!
When that was done, I sewed the skirt for Victoria, stopping before I was quite done to fix supper. The house was a mess, and poor Amber was probably aghast when she walked in. Why, Lydia even took her through the garage, of all things! (At least she didn’t get lost out there.)
I fixed potato soup--and ran out of milk. But I discovered that one can make up the difference with water, and then, if one adds a generous portion of butter, it is scrumptious as can be. Mmmmmm… We mixed black cherry yogurt with canned fruit, including a whole raft of purple plums, and had cottage cheese (a mistake of nature, according to a friend of mine).
I made two batches of banana muffins and a loaf of banana bread. Not having any nutmeg, I put in a little bit of cloves. Running out of sugar, I finished with a cup of brown sugar, and added half a teaspoon of lemon juice. And it was good. Better than usual, even. I would have liked it even better with nuts, but several of the children are allergic to them. Not very bad, really; but enough to make their mouth get tingles and prickles all over inside.
We walked over to Mama’s later that evening, me to show Mama my sewing projects, which she always takes great interest in (especially the looong repaired rip in Lydia’s skirt and the story of how it happened), and Larry to do a little household maintenance. And Caleb and Victoria to eat the brownies Dorcas had made.
After that, we went to Teddy and Amy’s duplex to see their house and their new furniture… Everything is so pretty, so nice. Only a week until their wedding, imagine that! Larry tried out their new leather recliner, just as he did Keith and Esther’s…and just as he did Bobby and Hannah’s. And wouldn’t you know, I’d forgotten my camera! (I have the other two instances documented on Kodak paper.)
Upon leaving there, we drove to a new street Gehrings are paving, and Joseph looked for his hammer. He’d hunted for it when they quit the job earlier, but it wasn’t where he’d left it. He finally found it atop the paver--a great big heavy machine that straddles the street. It has tracks on each side that make it go, electronic feelers on each side that run on a streamline--that’s what tells it whether it needs to go up or down--so that it keeps the right height as it goes along. It smoothes the concrete out--the concrete is dumped out in front of it--with the vibrating feelers. Larry says it looks like a giant catfish head. Anyway, Joseph finally gave up looking for his hammer on the ground and shinnied up the ladder to the top of the paver--and there was his hammer.
Saturday, I sewed Hester’s navy single-knit top--two or three times, I think, on account of the fact that my machine skips stitches like crazy on that kind of material. Is there any machine that doesn’t?
Once upon a time, long, long ago when I was very young, we had some friends who sold Necchi sewing machines. These machines were advertised as being so tough, they could sew through a yardstick. Now, that’s all well and good; but when was the last time you ever wanted an article of clothing made out of yardsticks? Furthermore, the stupid machines refused to sew on all manner of fabric--especially single knits. So what was the good of that??
In the afternoon, I cut out Hannah’s burgundy material (rayon crepe, maybe?) for the dress she wants to wear to Teddy and Amy’s wedding.
Larry, in the meantime, finally fixed the broken pipe in Hester and Lydia’s ceiling, barely getting the water turned back on before Teddy came racing home needing a shower so that he could go to practice with the choir at church. (Or as the note on the refrigerator, apparently written by a young sibling, told him, ‘practice with the chior’.) He’d been to Norfolk, shopping for Amy’s birthday present. Her birthday is the 7th. He got a nightstand and an end table, which he put in the duplex and will probably show her tonight, knowing him.
This afternoon, Keith and Esther ate with us--and we had one of Keith’s favorites: Larry’s supah-dupah, extra-special, extra-scrumptious pancakes. We eat them with peanut butter and syrup…syrup all by itself…peanut butter and jelly…or for a real treat, peanut butter, jelly, and syrup, all three. We used to keep quiet about our penchant for pancakes, French toast, or waffles on Sunday afternoons; but we have learnt, quite by accident, that we know a whole volley of people--friend, relative, and foe alike--who do the very same thing. In fact, some of them even have pancakes for supper on week nights! Sooo…the results are in: while we may not be entirely normal, at least there are plenty of other oddballs, too.
For my birthday--for the record, I have now advanced to the advanced age of 42--Keith and Esther gave me a pair of socks with the flag embroidered on the cuff, and when you fold it up, it has the letters USA embroidered on it. They also gave me the cutest little lamp for my headboard with a shade that has amber beads hanging down all around it, and the lampstand is of old gold filigree. Lawrence and Norma gave me a large, heavy, oval glass candle with two wicks in the almond/cherry-scented wax, and there is a ceramic lid with cardinals all over it. From Loren and Janice, among other things, I got a box of gourmet Hawaiian coffee that they’d brought back from a coffee plantation they visited: Sam Choy’s Volcano Roast, Roy’s Kona Coffee Blend, and Vanilla Macadamia Nut. I’ve already tried the latter two. Good coffee, that!
Bobby and Hannah came over after church, and they brought me a package of film, a package of video tapes, and a small black satin purse with a rhinestone clasp, just what I’d been wanting for church. Teddy and Amy gave me the niftiest little purple coffee mug warmer with a purple mug to match, and Joseph gave me $$$--half of his paycheck, I think, prompting me to tell him it was toooo much, which only made him grin at me. From Dorcas I got two oven mitts, a kitchen towel, and an 8x10 photo of the mountains reflected in a mountain lake. She gave them to me in a cellophane bag on which she had painted flowers and dragonflies--one of her favorite things to do.
Caleb and Victoria busied themselves with paper and tape, soon producing numerous bits of art and craftwork that they gave me with much pomp and ceremony: binoculars, tepees, hats, and hourglasses.
So once again I have proven: when a person has lots of kids, birthdays are extravaganzas!
I just sent the littles to bed. And the bigs, too. Joseph had Kitty; Teddy had Socks; Hester had Tabby. The kids all like to haul off with one of the cats when they’re going to bed; I guess it’s like a living, breathing, teddy bear. And the cats like to go. Usually.
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