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 ,,,>^..^<,,,
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