February Photos

Monday, February 23, 2015

Journal: Needle Cases, Scissors Cases, a Graduate, & A Reeking House


Aarrgghh, yet another space heater that I like to use in some of the cold little corners of my sewing rooms has bitten the dust.  The pellet stove is working, but the heat isn’t reaching this spot at the far end of my cutting table.
Tabby just came begging for the soft food he gets because of his lack of teeth, and now I’m safeguarding him from the other two in-house vultures, Teensy and Kitty.  Kitty, nearly blind, comes marching along, following her nose, and blunders right into Tabby.  She’ll just bulldoze him out of the way and take over the dish, if I don’t move her back a ways.  Once I do, she reluctantly sits and waits (usually) until I move her forward again and allow her to clean up what Tabby left behind.  Teensy’s a polite gentleman (if he thinks I’m watching), and waits until told he can move in.
And now my stomach is growling, and it occurs to me that I forgot to eat breakfast.  So I shall eat, wash another load of clothes, finish this letter, and get back to the sewing machine.  I wonder if anybody ever reads all my drivel? 
I wish I had as much energy as I had 20-30 years ago.  I remember days when I’d stand at the kitchen table cutting Easter clothes for all the children  – 15, 16, 17 hours at a time (with breaks for meals, feeding the baby, reading a story to the kids)...  There are three services on Easter... the children needed new clothes anyway... so I often made each of them three sets of clothes.  I’d have all sorts of fun pulling my fabric from the closet... putting together pieces that coordinated... finding patterns in all the right sizes...  I didn’t follow patterns closely, but needed to at least have a starting point, with bodices, for instance.  I enjoyed that, but ... making quilts and small projects for gifts is a whole lot more relaxing.
A friend was remarking on some one-way prints she’d used for a quilt.  Ah, those directional prints!  They’ve foiled me more than once.  I made a western shirt for Nathanael when he was about 4.  The fabric was printed with vehicles – and when I was done, the vehicles were upside down.  I had barely enough fabric to eke out another shirt – right side up, this time.  Then, just for the fun of it, I gave him both.
Hannah said that some days he would announce, “I feel like an upside-down day!” – because he wanted to wear the shirt with the upside-down vehicles.  “Fact is,” she said, “he likes that one better, because when he looks down at it, the vehicles are right side up, to him!”
And then there was Larry’s Fourth-of-July shirt, with a small flag print on the left front, a coordinating large flag print on the right, and contrasting fabrics on the sleeves, yokes, and plackets.
The small flag print wound up upside down.
I didn’t even notice –Caleb spotted it just as we were heading out the door to our church picnic.
Later that day, Larry got the following email from Bobby:
Subject: RE: Larry’s shirt
To whom it may concern:  According to international standards of flag-flying etiquette, the American flag, when flown upside-down (that is, with the stars in the bottom left-hand corner) is universally recognized as a symbol of distress.  To prevent all and sundry from rushing up and attempting to render first aid or other assistance, I recommend that Larry stand on his head whenever he wears that shirt in future.

We have a funny son-in-law.
We used to have a big Siberian husky.  She adored the snow.  She’d run pell-mell through it with her nose in it, making like a snowplow.  Scuffed up her poor nosey enough times that finally there was a permanent pink spot on the tip. 
We got a harness for her, and hitched her to the children’s sled.  Oohhh, she loved that!  Up would go her big plume of a tail, her ears would stand at attention, and when we’d give the command, “Go!” she’d prance off with pomp, mouth open in a big doggy laugh. 
Once or twice, she brought us her harness in the heat of summer, dropped it at our feet, backed up, and ‘grinned’ at us, wagging slowly, coaxing... 
Larry once hooked her harness to the children’s big farm wagon, and let Aleutia pull that.  We tried to keep her going slow enough that the wagon wouldn’t tip over if she rounded a corner too sharply.  Fortunately, the time or two it happened, the kiddos dumped into the soft grass, laughing...  Aleutia would hurry back to them, dragging the tipped wagon with no undue exertion, and sniff around to make sure ‘her’ kids were okay, then wag happily when we’d right the wagon and they’d climb back in.
What a dog.
Tuesday night I finished the first scissors holder.  (More pictures here:  The Mitered Corner)
Because there is a lining behind the ribbon embroidered pieces, and because I used two layers of batting in both the front and the back, and because the binding of the top is sewn into the binding of the back on each side, there are places where my machine was sewing through 20 layers of fabric/bat-ting as I was putting on the binding (I used a decorative feather stitch).  But it never missed a beat; it went smoothly along like a well-seasoned trouper.  Now that’s some machine. 
The scissors holder is for Hannah; her birthday is the 28th
I did the ribbon embroidery on a second case Wednesday, making several different flowers just for the fun of it.  On Pinterest, there are photos of some of the most beautiful ribbon embroidery...  there are scenery photos done with silk ribbon... bouquets that absolutely look real...  This is the first time I’ve done ribbon embroidery (started with Emma’s bag), and it certainly is fun to do.
The supplies I used were minimal, but I spent a good 20 hours on that thing, partly because I’m just learning to do ribbon embroidery.
In order to start, I laid in supplies of four sizes of silk ribbon (that stuff is pricey) – I get all white, then use silk ink on it after the flowers are made.  The ribbon was $43.36.  The silk ink is Letraset ProMarkers – a set of 24, for (eeeeeek) $62.96.  I bought a bunch of glass beads... probably spent almost $50 (!).  Chenille and beading needles, $5.  Mini hair straightener (to ‘iron’ the ribbon), $10.92.  Pricey little craftwork hobby! – but these supplies will make many, many gifts. 
I like doing it.  It turns out looking pretty, and makes a nice gift.  So, if I make enough things, all that money spent will be to good purpose.  If I’m buying a ready-made gift for one of the family, I’ll spend $30-50 – sometimes up to $100, if I find something I just can’t resist, and know they’ll like it.  So, if you look at it that way, these supplies will be worth the initial expenditure. 
See the kaleidoscope block in the center of the scissors holder?  I used the ‘stack ’n whack’ method to cut identical pieces from a stack of four thicknesses of fabric.  There are youtube videos that explain stack ’n whack, and the resulting kaleidoscope blocks.  I have a couple of books on the subject, including one so detailed and intricate that it makes my eyeballs spin in their sockets every time I open the cover.  Here’s one:   Kaleidoscopes and Quilts Paperback, by Paula Nadelstern. 
The lady has created some phenomenal kaleidoscope quilts.  Her designs have been incorporated into all sorts of industrial products, including the vast carpet in the Hilton Americas Hotel in Houston, Texas.  Here’s her website:  Paula Nadelstern
That hotel carpet, by the way, was fabricated and installed without her knowledge.  Friends attending the Houston Quilt Market and staying at the newly-finished hotel spotted it, recognized it, and let her know.  She sued.  The defendants responded that because Paula had used third-party fabric purchased from fabric stores, and the fabrics were protected by copyright by their manufacturers, her “derivative works” were not eligible for copyright in her book.  Further, the defendants claimed that Nadelstern herself committed fraud by applying for a copyright for the book by “intentionally failing to disclose” to the U. S. Copyright Office that the quilts contained third-party fabrics. 
How do ya like that?!  They did amend that response, and tried to shift all responsibility to the interior design firm that commissioned the carpet.
Until I find out the results of the trial that was scheduled for June 11, 2007, we must all gather up our respective stashes and hide them in padlocked boxes to avoid the risk of getting sued for fraud.    For heaven’s sake, don’t cut and sew with any of it!!!  Go buy a loom!  You’ll have to weave yer fabric yerselves.
Hmmm...    Here we go...  It seems the issue was resolved when Hilton Americas gave credit to Paula Nadelstern for the carpet (and probably paid her a very deserving commission).  Just look at it – it’s positively stunning:  Hilton Carpet
Okay, I think we can all go on sewing with ‘third-party fabrics.’  The scare is over. 
Wednesday afternoon, it finally made it up to 18° (wind chill at 1°).  Heat wave, heat wave!
I meant to be doing the ribbon embroidery for the second scissors holder... but the rickety cardboard holder that my embroidery/chenille/beading needles came in was causing an aggravation, sooo...  I started making myself a needlebook.  Of course, I can’t just make a simple one, oh noooo.  I have dozens of tiny squares left over from the Mosaic Lighthouse quilt, so . . . I decided a mini Irish Chain block would fit the bill for the front cover.
Upon learning what I was doing late that afternoon, a friend wrote, “Anyone ever tell you, you are an overachiever?”
I replied:
Ha!  That is, ... ahem.
At the moment, I’m more of an ‘over-smeller.’
Because...
♫ ♪ All on a ♫ ♪ Wednesday Night ♫ ♪  (to the tune of Miss Fitzsimmons)
I’m downstairs sewing.  I’m ready for church.  Victoria’s upstairs getting ready.  Larry just got home from work.  He’s supposedly warming up something to eat, including some mashed potatoes Victoria made earlier.
Suddenly, the house reeks.  I mean, there are steam marks rising from it, just like in the funnies.  My sewing room stinks.  My quilting room stinks.  The whole world stinks!  And what does it stink of??  Apple cider vinegar, that’s what.
I gallop up the stairs to see what has happened, thinking Larry must’ve spilt that big jug Victoria got for cleaning.
No, he didn’t spill it.
He poured it, on purpose, into a skillet in which he is cooking a chicken breast fillet!!!!!!!!!!
What on earth.
I try to convince him that he should quickly pour it out, rinse off the fillet, and start over.  No, he doesn’t want to.  He wants to find out what it’s going to taste like. 
I cough and splutter, “You can’t smell what it’s going to taste like??!!”
He laughs.  He laughs!  How could anyone laugh, over a stench like that?!
I escape back to my sewing room – but it’s no escape.  The place reeks.  It reeks!!!!!!!
Oh, what shall I do with him???
And what if we go to church, smelling like this?!!  I smelled good, just 15 minutes ago!!!!
I doggedly keep trying to sew... 
Another friend wrote, “I’d make him eat every last bit of it.”
“Haha!  I’ll do that,” I replied, and signed my name,
,,,>^..^<,,,     Sarah Lynn, wielding a rotary cutter and a big ladle     ,,,>^..^<,,,
But, when I went back upstairs, I discovered ... he’d eaten it!  He said it wasn’t as bad as it smelled.  But... I’ll betcha he won’t do it again. 
Victoria came downstairs and went through great descriptions and pantomimes and dramatics explaining how the odor awoke her from her nap (while her father laughed).  I should’ve videotaped all that.
I thought that, when I got to church, if I noticed any unsavory aromas, I could sniff, look stealthily around, and whisper urgently, “What is that smell?!”
We had visiting missionaries to the Yucatan Peninsula visiting for a week – a man, his wife, and seven children, Bro. Bert Craft and family.  What a lovely family they are.  We’ve discovered a few connections we didn’t know we had – such as, he got his six-door pickup from the same Christian man in Oklahoma from whom Larry got some of the parts and pieces with which he made our six-door pickup, about 15 years ago.  And then we discovered that a nice Christian family in Indiana, the Williams, to whom we delivered a large van that Larry had rebuilt – was Mrs. Craft’s parents!!  Small world. 
Bro. Craft laughingly remarked, “If I stay here any longer, I’m liable to discover I’m kin with someone here!”
He preached at each of our services last Sunday.  Wednesday night the family sang together while Mrs. Craft played the piano.  Their six-door pickup has been causing them troubles; it had many, many miles on it.  So our church found a Suburban for them.  Before they accepted it, they made sure it didn’t look like anything one of the Mexican drug cartels might use.  After seeing pictures of it, they drove their pickup all the way here (with a breakdown on the way) for their first visit and to get the Suburban.  Some friends of ours will sell the pickup for them and send them the money.  Thursday, they headed home with the Suburban.  They have a long and somewhat dangerous journey back home.  We had a short prayer meeting at church Wednesday night, and, among other things, prayed for their safe travels home.
That day, Larry put fenders on the Craft’s cargo trailer so it wouldn’t throw up rocks and possibly break out a rear window in the Suburban.  In the area where they live, there are no parts houses for hundreds of miles – and one is not assured honest service when one gets there.  In the areas where they live, they’ve been assaulted... yelled at... had liquid thrown on them (while the assaulters told them it was gasoline, and threatened to light them on fire)...  But every now and then, people turn to the Lord – and that makes it all worthwhile.  They continue doing their best to help those around them.  Eleven years ago, they had a four-month-old baby girl who died (SIDS, I think).  She was a beautiful, chubby, happy baby... it was a sad time for them.
  Victoria stayed late at the church Sunday night and Wednesday night, visiting with the Craft girls.  She’s a bit shy, especially in a group of people; but she decided just to launch right in and be friendly, saying, “I hate feeling like an awkward little noodle...”  And now she’s glad she did.
Thursday afternoon, I finished the needlecase.  The tiny squares are a bit crooked, since I didn’t use the gridded pellon.  (But we won’t tell anybody.  And I’m keeping it, so I needn’t manufacture any excuses.)
The small squares are ½” finished.  The book when closed measures 6” x 6 ½”. 
I put the other scissors case in the embroidery hoop and starting on the ribbon embroidery.  I’m using my new embroidery hoop, handmade in Germany, and rubbed to a soft patina.  Very much nicer than the rough glued plywood thing I’ve used before.
Ruth Craft, who is 17, sent Victoria a picture of their family at the Parrows’ home in Oklahoma.  Bro. Parrow, who had a heart attack about three weeks ago, is not doing very well, though he was able to go home that afternoon.
Friday, I worked on Norma’s scissors holder, and finished it late that night.  Or early Saturday morning, depending on your point of view.
Here’s a picture Victoria took of Teensy.  He hopped up on loveseat, pumped and kneaded his paws on the fleece blanket (he loves fleece) – and then fell asleep with his back to the room (though you can tell from the angle of his ears that she woke him up).  She posted the shot on her Instagram account, entitling it #unsociable and #timeout.  hee hee
Victoria had a graduation/birthday shindig at Andrew and Hester’s that night, inviting a number of relatives and classmates.  She ordered two elaborate cakes from her cousin Rachel, who’s the same age as Lydia.  Rachel’s cakes aren’t merely beautiful; they’re scrumptious.  The cake with the tiers of ruffles is chocolate with ganache, and the other is orange coconut carrot cake with toasted pecan and cream cheese filling.

I’d never heard of ‘ganache’, so I looked it up.  Here’s what I found:
Ganache (ɡəˈnɑːʃ, or gä-ˈnäsh) is a glaze, icing, sauce, or filling for pastries made from chocolate and cream.  Ganache is normally made by heating cream, then pouring it over chopped chocolate of any kind.  The mixture is stirred or blended until smooth, with extracts added if desired.  Butter is traditionally added to give the ganache a shiny appearance and smooth texture.

I particularly liked the glorified carrot cake.  I am not usually very fond of cake, but if you’re going to throw all those oranges, coconuts, and carrots together, and then add a bunch of toasted pecans and cream cheese, why, I’m a-gonna like it, that I am, I am!
I played Scrabble with Joanna; she’s 12.  Fun times. 

When we got home again, I went back to working on the scissors case, enjoying the use of my new needlecase.  In the mail that day, I got the mini hair straightener for the silk ribbon.  Its handles have a print of deep red roses, and it came with a little black zippered case I didn’t know I was going to get. 
The three nesting baskets came, too, and the folded-star hotpads fit perfectly in the middle-sized basket.

Here’s the second scissors case:
Amy called Saturday afternoon and asked if Larry could come – because they had a grass fire near their house!  It started near their burn barrel; evidently the door blew open.  The rural fire department was on the way, but it would take them some time to get there (16 minutes, as it turned out).  Teddy was spraying the fire, connecting a series of hoses and drawing water from his underground thermal system, which has a lot of pressure – but the fire was too big for him to cope with.  It was going along the fence line, and there are houses and a campground nearby.
It takes a little over a minute to drive to their house from ours, so Larry got there quickly.  He used the tractor to break apart a couple of the hay bales so they could spray them down, and he used a shovel to put out smaller fires that were starting up at the perimeter of the larger one.
The rural fire department arrived then and put out the fire.  Good thing the wind was blowing away from the house!  The fire blackened quite a swath of their land and burned a couple of big round hay bales.  But we are glad that’s all it did, and no one is the worse for wear.
Meanwhile, I made a biscornu pincushion and a needlekeep to match the scissor cases. 
{This definition is from Wikipedia:  A biscornu (bee-ss-corn-uh) is a small, 8-sided, stuffed ornamental pincushion, usually made out of Aida cloth or linen.  Embroidery or cross-stitch is used to decorate the top and bottom of the cushion.  A button is typically secured in the center of the cushion to give a small depression on the top.  Beads, tassels, and other objects can decorate the biscornu.  They are typically able to fit in the palm of your hand.  The name is derived from the French adjective, biscornu, meaning skewed, quirky, or irregular.}
That evening I dug around and found a funnel in the far reaches of a kitchen drawer, then announced, “Okay, everybody cross your fingers, toes, and eyes for me – I’m ready to pour (or attempt to pour) ground walnut shells into a biscornu pincushion.  I have a funnel... it might work swimmingly – or I might create the biggest mess any sewing room of mine has ever known since the beginning of time.”
Half an hour later...  “Yaaaay!  It woiked, it woiked, it woiked.”
  Swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet swing feet...
I am here to tell you that crushed walnut shells is the filling for pincushions (unless your recipient is allergic to tree nuts, maybe).  This little pincushion has a very nice weight to it... the pins slide in easily...  and when you pull one out, you don’t wind up lifting the entire cushion.  Crackerjack!
I stitched it shut, pleased as punch.  A button on each side, and it was done.  I still had enough oomph to sew a needle cushion, so that’s just what I did.
The thing grew, every time I wasn’t looking at it!   I didn’t mean to make it quite so big; I’ll make the next one smaller.  For one thing, it used up too much emery sand – and that stuff was a bit pricey!

I’ve started the other pincushion, and will make a second needlekeep, too, but the next one will be smaller.
I got both the crushed walnut shells and the emery sand from an Amazon store called Nakpunar Arts, Crafts, and Sewing Store.  It was a good price, comparatively.  It might be cheaper to get the crushed walnut shells from a pet store (it’s used for litter for small caged animals), but the stuff from Nakpunar is guaranteed to be clean, and I don’t imagine pet stores worry as much about it, if it’s just for litter.  The shells are crushed to a fine powder, very nice, with a good weight for a pincushion.  I don’t like a pincushion that won’t stay put when I’m putting pins into it or pulling pins out of it.
I suppose it could cause an allergic reaction to those who are allergic to nuts, though.  I enclosed mine in lightweight Pellon, and there’s a layer of muslin under the quilting cotton – three layers of fabric, and the Pellon is not porous.  So it would probably depend on exactly how allergic a person is.
We had a crystal blue sky yesterday, but the temperature only got up to about 12°, and the wind chill was -3°.  Larry stayed home from church all day; he just can’t shake the nasty cold he’s had for a couple of weeks.  Loren has a cold, too, but he’s getting better.  Lura Kay was also sick and stayed home all day because of a bad cold.  There were 79 people missing from church in the morning.  That’s very unusual; normally there are only 10-20 missing.  We have ... ummm... I think... 383 people.  A lot of those who were at church were recovering from colds... so the singing wasn’t quite up to par.  We generally lift the roof!  This time, we barely stirred the light fixtures.
At 9:00 p.m., it was 7°, and the wind chill was -7°.  But Embarrass, Minnesota, was at -13°, with a wind chill of -32°.  Meanwhile, Kotzebue, Alaska, which is north of Fairbanks, was right at 35°.  How ’bout that.  Three hours later, the temperature had fallen to 0°, and the windchill was -12°.
Larry came home for lunch a little while ago.  He made himself eggs and a grilled cheese sandwich and a couple of corndogs – he must’ve been hungry!  He’s gone back to work now, and Victoria has gone to renew her driver’s license – she turns 18 tomorrow. 
Now to give this weekly one last read-through before sending/posting/printing.  I got momentarily stalled out looking at a video clip of people hiking on The World’s End cliff in Sri Lanka, where a man on his honeymoon fell off the 4,000-foot cliff – but came to rest against trees and bushes just 150 feet down.  The authorities who rescued him in a 3 ½-hour operation said that any others who had ever fallen off that cliff had been killed.
One of the videos I tried to watch kept stalling out.  I thought it was our Internet causing the trouble, until I noticed that the play indicator was continuing to move, and the seconds were continuing to count.  I looked down in the comment area to see if others were having the same problem, and found this comment: 
I applaud your ability to upload a video using nothing but a toaster and an old potato.  Great job!”  haha
Here are Maria, Hester, and their cousin Olivia in Hester’s living room.
Now, time to get bizzy!


,,,>^..^<,,,          Sarah Lynn          ,,,>^..^<,,,




Monday, February 16, 2015

Journal: New Overalls, Lost (Stolen?) Overalls, & Re-Embroidered Overalls (sort of like refried beans, only even more embarrassin')


Last week, just a couple of days after filing our taxes through Turbo Tax, I received a notice that they had suspended filing state tax returns over fraud concerns.  I’d barely gotten around to working up some concern over the matter when it was announced via various news agencies that Turbo Tax was back in gear, with added security.  And then, just a week and a day after I’d filed, refunds for both Federal and State were residing happily in our bank account.  That’s the fastest we’ve ever received our refund. 
Wednesday before starting on my great-niece’s wedding gift, I sorted several stacks of fabric and filled three of my new clear totes, then filled one more with various sewing notions.  My cutting table was cleared off, and I picked out fabric for a set of folded-star hotpads.  Lynette’s dishes are Fiesta-ware colors:  scarlet, poppy, lemongrass, sunflower, and cobalt blue.  Sooo... I chose colors to match.  Sort of.  Kind of.  Almost.  Maybe.  Possibly.  Especially if you squint.  I even had a big ol’ chunk of Insul-Bright with which to line the hotpads.  (When I was all done, and putting supplies away, I found small chunks of Insul-Bright that I should have used, instead of cutting into the big piece, which was originally purchased for use with a casserole dish carrier.  Bother.  Well, if I need to, I can connect pieces the same way I join interfacing, abutting the edges and using a 9mm zigzag to hold them tightly together.)

I got two hotpads done Wednesday, three on Thursday, and finished the last on Friday.  The folded stars are fun to make.  The pattern showed them round... but they looked so nice when all the prairie points were on and they were octagons, I didn’t want to trim them.
Meanwhile, Hannah was making Valentine boxes.  Here’s Nathanael’s ice cream truck:
The preschoolers had their Valentine’s Day party Thursday.  Levi gave Hannah the following rundown of his day:
“I got a balloon, a chocolate bar, etc., etc....  Today was WONDERFUL!”
A friend who recently sewed a new work jacket for her husband, using an old favorite jacket as a pattern for the new, remarked that he will not wear the new jacket to work, because it’s ‘too nice’.  (It is quite nice.)  She asked, “Have you ever made someone something that they won’t use, because it’s ‘too nice’?”
That reminded me of the time Larry said that he didn’t want to wear some jeans to work, because I’d done such a crackerjack job of patching the knees.  Ha!  More likely it was because the patches made the already-snug leg a bit too tight for comfort.
And then there were the embroidered overalls...
Once upon a time, Larry got a new pair of black insulated Carhartt overalls.  Expensive things, those are.  Not two days later, they were gone.  Vanished.  Vamoosed.  AWOL.  GONE!  No idea where they went; he never saw them again.  He looked in all the vehicles where he thought he might have left them... asked around...  We thought most likely a certain transient coworker had found them and helped himself – but if he did, he never wore them on any Walker job.
Larry got another pair.  Painful, getting out the wallet the second time.  He decided not to leave them at work, ever again.
A couple of days later, he tossed them in the hamper in the washroom.  I washed them, then decided I’d stop someone from being so keen to steal them:  I embroidered his name on the bib.  In big, bold, curling white letters, I did.
When Larry got home later that day, I proudly showed him what I’d done.
Only thing was, they weren’t his. 
They were the boss’s.  (The boss, Charles, is also our nephew by marriage.)
!
Charles had loaned them to Larry, the day Larry couldn’t find his.
Sooo... I set about painstakingly removing those stitches – and I’d put them in to stay.  Finally, they were out – but you could clearly see the word ‘Larry’, even after I steamed it good and proper.
I went back to my sewing machine, and I embroidered the name ‘Charles’ in its place.
I then embroidered Larry’s name on the pair that were really his, with just as much pomp and flash as I had done on Charles’.

The next morning, Larry had the job of explaining to Charles why his wife thought she should embroider Charles’ name on his Carhartts.
Larry and Charles then had the only embroidered black Carhartt insulated overalls at Walkers.
Larry likes to hook his thumbs in his straps, puff out his chest, and strut around a bit, the better to show off his embroidery.
Charles said the only thing he knew to do about it was to wear them and work like everything till that white embroidery got dirty enough it matched the bib.
Larry took Friday and Saturday off to work on the garage.  He wound up spending all of Friday afternoon at the house of someone who had rented his scissor lift.  They’d rented it, used it for twenty minutes, had a problem with it – and then tried to fix it.  They even ordered and installed a bunch of new parts on it – but still couldn’t get it to work.  Larry got it fixed, but it took a while.  By mutual agreement, he charged them nothing for renting it, and they didn’t charge him for the new parts, which may or may not have been necessary.
That afternoon, Loren took the fuel pump from Larry’s skid loader to Pender to have it fixed.
After finishing the hotpads, I hunted online for a lidded basket to them in.  Upon posting a picture of the basket I finally found, after a good deal of searching, a friend wrote and asked if I’d taken up basket weaving in my spare time. 
I haven’t ever woven a basket in my life (except for one out of fabric that I appliquéd on a mug rug – and possibly a construction paper one for May Day in the 2nd grade) – but I might should take it up, ’cuz I found a pretty one online and thought, Oh, there’s a nice one – and then discovered it was – are you sitting down – $560.  It’s a ‘Sweetgrass Basket’, and here’s the description:
“Mount Pleasant native Marilyn W. Dingle headweaves her fruit and flower basket using sweetgrass, bulrush, palmetto palms, and pine needles.  843-884-5590; $560 (baskets are available in a range of prices).”
!  Do you really think she ‘headweaves’ them thar thangs?  Headweaves??  And does this ‘range of prices’ go up, or down??
Then there was a nasty ol’ dark, mildewy woven tray – for $1,196, evidently merely because it was ‘vintage’.  Good grief, what ailed me, that I’ve been throwing away stuff like that for years?!  I could’ve been rich by now!  (Well, providing other people are gullible and goofy enough to buy such a thing.)
[Headweaves?????]
After seeing the prices baskets are selling for, I was glad to find a set of three lidded baskets on eBay that I could actually afford.  The smallest basket is exactly the right size.  I’ll save the two bigger ones for Hester’s birthday.  I probably shouldn’t break them up, because they are nesting baskets... but I’m a-goin’ to, regardless.
A little past 7:30 p.m., I knew Larry must’ve gotten home, for I heard uproarious cackling and guffawing upstairs.  Victoria and Larry can each watch a funny video quietly – so long as they are by themselves.  But just let them watch together, and things get funnier by the minute.
Victoria had brought home two large bags of safflower seed from Earl May.  Not only was it on sale, but she also gets a percentage off since she works there, so we wound up with nearly $60 worth of seed for about $27.  The good thing about safflower seed is that, once the birds get used to it, not only is it good for them, but squirrels, blackbirds, grackles, and suchlike are not so fond of it.  Information:  About Safflower Seeds and Safflower Solution.
When the hotpads were done, I cut several mini ‘stack ’n whack’ blocks and put four of them together, and two more the next day.  These will be for scissors holders, pincushion tops, and whatever else I can think of for various gifts.  They will have decorations of ribbon embroidery, buttons, and lace. 

Saturday, I put a load of clothes into the washing machine, filled the bird feeders, cleared off the table, lit a cranberry garland candle – and started sewing. 
Larry and Loren worked on the garage all day, until Loren was tired enough that I was worried about him.  Both of them have colds, and Victoria is just getting over one.  I’ve acquired one too, so we are all a bit under the weather.
Victoria fixed them a yummy lunch in the middle of the afternoon:  herb biscuits and country gravy, eggs, and mixed vegetables.  It was only 18°, and the wind chill was 4°.  Loren went home a little after 6:00 p.m.  He works hard – and tries to keep at it as long as Larry does.  We gave him a steaming cup of coffee to warm him up before he left.
I pulled two large and two small boxes of fabric from the storage room under the front porch and put the fabric into clear totes that are now on shelves in my sewing room closet.  There are many boxes to go.
It was Lawrence and Norma’s 24th wedding anniversary that day, Valentine’s Day.  We gave them a big hardcover picture book of beautiful drives in America.
A box of crushed walnut shells and powdered emery arrived in the mail; those are for the pincushions I’ll make next.
That evening, Hannah sent me the following note:  “Levi, helping cook, misses bowl with egg he cracked.  Gets off stool, looks at floor...  ‘Huh!!!  How did it melt?!!’”  (The yolk was broken.)
By bedtime, the fronts and backs of two scissors holders were put together and trimmed with an assortment of laces.  Next:  the ribbon embroidery.  I considered doing a flower or two...
But ... when the next step – such as threading the needle – seems too monumental to cope with — it’s time for bed.
I stayed home from church yesterday on account of a cold... headache... earaches...  Larry probably needed to stay home every bit as badly as I did, but I didn’t have a big enough paperweight to hold him down.  Bro. Bert Craft, his wife, and their seven children were visiting; they are missionaries to Mexico, and our church supports them.  I watched the services online. 
What in the world?  Black Kitty (she’s over 19 years old, and mostly deaf and blind) has jumped onto the back of a chair, and is staring up at the side of the refrigerator, as if she’s considering leaping up there.  (She used to be able to make the jump easily – from the floor.)  I’d better go sidetrack her before she hurts herself.
*******
I’m baaaaaaack... did you miss me?

I’ll betcha the light from the front window was shining on the white refrigerator, so Kitty could see it better than usual – and it was probably coaxing her... enticing her to try to jump up on top like she used to do.  Silly old thing.  I picked her up and cuddled her, and she forgot all about trying to jump, and went to purring like a John Deere tractor, circa 1932. 
Okay, I was pretty sure the ad that spoke of ‘headweaves’ was merely misprinted, and should have read ‘handweaves’, or, better yet, ‘hand weaves’.  But curiosity finally got the better of me, so I looked up ‘headweaving’ – and discovered you can get medication for that.   
I also found baskets you can carry on your head.
Other than that, nothing – well, at least, nothing on pages 1 and 2 of Google search results.  I may have stopped looking too soon.
When he got home from church, Larry made us a lunch of his Supah-Dupah French toast.  Mmm, mmm.  They’re more like dessert, when he makes them.
A friend was going to mail something to me – books on basketry! – but then she realized...  “I said I’d mail them tomorrow but of course I can’t.  I live in the good old USA and tomorrow is Presidents’ Day.  So neither can I mail back my two left shoes.  They were backordered (not two left ones–a pair was ordered; they have strange feet where these were made).  I had waited so very long and then I get two shoes both meant for the left foot.”
Good grief, two left shoes.  Quality Control certainly fell down on the job that time.  We were once traveling in southern Colorado with our eight older children.  It started snowing... turned into a blizzard... so we stopped at a Wal-Mart to get snowboots for the ones who needed them.  Found boots... tried on boots... bought boots... got back out to the vehicle – and Lydia, age four, announced, “These boots are both for the same foot!”
The child was right.  Aaarrrggghhh!  It was a looong way back across the parking lot, deep with snow, with the wind howling, buckets of snow coming down sideways.  We were parked at the back of the lot, because we had a crewcab pickup with a 40-foot fifth-wheel camper on behind.  We were going to a funeral in New Mexico.
Lydia, trying to be Brave and Helpful, said doubtfully, “Well, maybe I could just curl my toes a little bit on this one foot...”
I wrapped the little girl up good and proper in parka, scarf, and mittens, pulled up my hood, gathered her into my arms, and away I went, plodding along through the storm like a ship without a rudder.
We presented the boots to the man at the Customer Service desk, he called for someone to help us, and we headed back to the shoe department.
There were no similar boots in her size.  The only ones that fit her were three times the price.  Price matters, when you have eight children.  Especially when you are far from home with eight young children.
“Just a minute,” said the clerk, and trotted off.  He returned shortly with a manager, who proceeded to take in the situation – and then he suddenly handed us the box with the better boots, affixed a personally-signed note to it, and told us to hurry on our way, before the weather worsened.
I’ve always hoped something nice happened to that man.


,,,>^..^<,,,           Sarah Lynn           ,,,>^..^<,,,