February Photos

Monday, June 15, 2015

Goodbye to Black Kitty

Kitty and Hester
My brother Loren spent several days here last week, helping watering our newly-planted grass and using his weedeater.  The front yard looks nice now... but if you wander around to the back, I recommend you make sure the batteries in your GPS are fully charged, if you have any hopes of getting back out of there.
As I mentioned in last week’s journal, I was hunting for our sprinklers, including a brand-spankin’ new one.  They had all disappeared, every last one. 
At 1:04 p.m., I sent a text to Larry:  “Don’t we have ANY sprinklers, anywhere at all??”
Five minutes later, he replied, “Yeah, check by the patio door in the basement in basement.” 
(He and his smartphone’s voice-to-text app have an uneasy truce.  Sometimes the truce is called off and all-out warfare ensues.)
This conversation could have been completed in 30 seconds, had I actually called, rather than texted.  But, once we start...
We doggedly text on.  At 1:12 p.m., I respond, “There’s a hose and a spigot with four ends.”
1:15 p.m., and Larry suggests, “Maybe out by the air conditioner.”
Six minutes later, I answer, “Nothing but hose.”
It took him four more minutes to offer this:  “Under the deck maybe.”
“Nope,” I retort.  “At least, not that I can see.  I looked twice.”
He evidently gave up after that, for he had nothing further to say.
I asked Victoria if she knew where the new sprinkler had gotten to.  Sometimes things inexplicably vanish during her cleaning sprees.  She hadn’t the faintest idea, and said she hadn’t moved it from the spot where Larry had put it immediately after buying it.
She got home from work, went out in the garage, peered in a box – and found the new sprinkler.  She’s sure she didn’t put it there.  Larry is sure he didn’t put it there.  And of course I didn’t put it there.  I think the cats did it.  In the garage with the sprinkler.  {We’re playing Clue, right?}
Wouldn’t you know, that sprinkler is just like a couple of sprinklers Loren has – cheapies that don’t work so well.
Victoria’s friend Robin came and tried on the top part of her dress.  Yep, it fit!  Soon, the girls were playing the piano and singing.  They harmonize well together; I love to listen to them.
It was Hester’s 26th birthday that day, so Victoria and I took her the Sizzix Big Shot we’d gotten.  She has sent me pictures of some of the pretty things she’s made with it since then.
Larry, meanwhile, helped Caleb put brakes on his pickup.
Tuesday, I thoroughly watered the new grass (it’s coming up! – the ground is misty green), the little blue spruce trees, along with all the flowers in pots on the porch.  Loren brought several of his own sprinklers that work better.  I had most of the yard watered by the time he got here, so he didn’t have so much to do. 
My brother will soon be 77 years old – but he works like he was 40 or so.  He is always trying to help... not just us, but other friends and family, too.  So much for what an acquaintance had to say, when a year ago I mentioned making supper for him:  “Well, you can’t keep doing that forever; he’ll have to learn to care for himself!” 
Yes, he can care for himself (most of the time)... but I like to help.  And yes, we can care for ourselves (most of the time)... but he likes to help!  Paul wrote, “Bear ye one another’s burdens...” and then, a couple of verses later, “Every man shall bear his own burden.”  Some say that’s just another example of the Bible’s contradictions.  Well, that’s goofy.  It’s so easy to understand!  We do our best to care for ourselves... and when we love others, we help them when we can, when we can see they need help.  Nothing hard to understand about that, is there? 
That afternoon, I took poor old Black Kitty to our vet to bid her adieu.  She was 19 ½ years old, and she had quit eating the last couple of days, and would hardly drink.  We’ve mollycoddled her with all our might and main for the last three or four months, and decided it was time.  She sat on my lap as I typed some emails before I left for town, and I brushed her while she purred, though very quietly, as she was quite weak.  I miss her.  19 years is a long time to have a pet.
After leaving the veterinarian clinic, I went to the Goodwill... found a few bargains... stopped at Dollar General for a couple of things... and hurried home to move the sprinklers before they made a lake in the new grass that’s just coming up.
I walked into my bedroom to put my purse down – and looked to see if Kitty was on the bed.  Sigghhhhh... 
But Teensy came and jumped on my lap a little while ago, made bread on my knee, bumped his head against me, and purred (he’s a big cat – but he has such a quiet purr, it’s nearly undetectable).  And Tabby just came in and did his best to stare a hole through me, which means, “I need food!  See me?  Hungry!  Me!  Food!  Mrrow, prrbbtppt, mrrrw, meee!”  So I gave him the soft food he needs, since he had several teeth removed a few years ago on account of gum disease.
Each night when I quit with the sewing or whatever I happen to be doing, I spend some time transferring a few more pages and posts from my old website to my blogs.  The ‘Clothes Rack’, ‘Dolly Boutique’, and sewing projects (‘Mitered Corner’) blogs are all caught up, as are the pages for Sewing Studio and Quilting Studio.  I still need to finish transferring all the quilting, poetry, recipes, and photography posts.  I churn out lots of blither!  And blather, too.  :-D
A friend wrote, “I saw a 22-inch (more like 21 ¾”) ruler on your blog with the Braided Star Table Topper.  Where does one find a 22-inch ruler?  I have seen 12, 24, and 36, but never a 22-inch one.”
I responded with the following: 
One gets a 21 5/8” ruler after one’s beloved son steps on one’s yardstick, when said yardstick had one end propped on a bin.  It’s all very technological and scientific, getting it to snap apart straight and smooth, involving type of boot tread, size of foot in boot, velocity said foot was traveling when it alit upon said yardstick, and weight of body above said foot.
The best part of the equation was the look on said beloved son’s face as the following occurred: 
Me:  “Don’t step on my yard---” CRRRRRRRRACK “---stick.”
(But he’s a sweetie; he bought me a new, even better one, and I hadn’t even asked.  Further, he sanded the end of the now-21-5/8” ruler.)
I finished Robin’s dress Tuesday night, all but the ruffled-fabric-and-chiffon flower at the waist.  Victoria’s was half done.  I worked on them again Wednesday, and took Robin’s to her that evening when we went to church.  I’d hoped to be done with Victoria’s that day, too; but keeping the newly-planted grass, trees, and all the flowers watered took up a good deal of my time.  Oh, for underground sprinklers!  Maybe someday...
A big storm was starting, with high winds and rain, just as everyone was leaving the church, so all I had time to do was thrust the dress in Robin’s arms and then we all ran for our vehicles.  Fortunately, I’d put the dress in a plastic garment bag.
Soon after we arrived home, Victoria forwarded this text from Robin:  “Btw i LUUUVVV THE DRESS!!!!!!!!!!!!! Its so cute!!! Please tell ur mom i love it and thanku soooooooo much 4 doing that!!!!!!!!!!!  Robbi”
Do you think she’s excited????!!!!!  :-D  I hope it fits and looks nice on her.  Maybe she hadn’t tried it on yet, and was exclaiming over how cute it looked on the hanger!
The Fellowship Hall and elementary school are gone now; there’s nothing but a very deep, very large hole in the ground, with fencing all around it to keep curious children and unsuspecting adults (and unsuspecting children and curious adults, too) from walking straight into it, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!
The Fellowship Hall was our old church, which was comprised of the small original church, and an addition that more than doubled its size in 1969.  I was eight years old when that addition was built.  One morning, workmen were laying shingles.  They went away for lunch – and left their ladder up, leaning against the back of the church.
Now, nobody had ever told me I couldn’t climb that ladder.  Not that I’d asked.  I had more sense than that.  I looked this way… that way… and then quicker’n a wink, I shinnied up the ladder, stepped onto the eave, and skedaddled right up to the topmost peak of the church.
I tell you, that was a looong way up.  I gazed around in delight.  I could see practically the entire town!  I could see the courthouse, all the way uptown, our tallest building at three stories high.  I looked down at the street in front of the church and our house – and all of a sudden I was struck with a panicky feeling of Too Much Height and Not Enough Net.
A split second later, I was on my stomach right on that peak, lengthwise, hugging it tightly with arms and legs and wishing for more.  More arms and legs, that is.  I stayed there for immeasurable moments – and then I saw a man walking on the sidewalk far below.  I watched him, feeling stealthy and furtive . . . and then it occurred to me that if I could see him, all he’d have to do would be turn his head and look up, and he would see me.  Aaaiiiyiiieeee.  That would be mortally embarrassin’.
Almost as quickly as I’d gone up, I went back down.  There was one hair-raising, spine-tingling moment when I was stepping from eave back onto ladder, and my blood ran cold.  But I made it.  I made it safely back to earth.  And I didn’t tell on myself for the better part of two decades, either.  Nor did I do any further climbing.
Wanna see what a white goldenrod crab spider looks like? 
These spiders can change color.  When they’re on a bright yellow flowering goldenrod, they, too, will be bright yellow.  They are sometimes called ‘banana spiders’ because of their yellow color.  Their small jaws do contain venom, but their bites (which seldom happen) are harmless to humans.  They are helpful in gardens, as they consume many pests, including grasshoppers that are much bigger than the spider.  They do not build webs.
This particular specimen, however, made the error of somehow landing in my sink, on a waiting-to-be-washed saucer!  He thereby forfeited his chance to do good in my gardens.  
What’s that you say?  A white goldenrod crab spider doesn’t appeal to you?  How about a pair of bright mulberry-colored snapdragons?  And a pretty yellow Stella de Oro lily?

While taking the picture of the lily, I spotted a ladybug look-alike of unknown species.  I worked my way down through Kingdom, Phylum, Class, Order, Family, and Genus, and there I was stymied.  The pronotum (that part that helps protect the head) is red-orange.  Our usual ladybugs have black pronotums.  I posted pictures on the Ugly Hedgehog photography forum and asked if anyone had ever seen a similar beetle.
A couple of days later, someone gave me a name of a man who does quite a lot of insect photography and is knowledgeable about them.  I sent a private message – and within hours, he had answered, and named my beetle.  When I mentioned Leaf Beetle, I was getting close, very warm – I was in the right family, at least.  It’s an Argus Tortoise Beetle – Chelymorpha cassidea.
More pictures in previous post.
Thursday night I finished Victoria’s dress... so Friday I was back to sewing tabs – 170 of them – onto interfacing for the Mosaic Lighthouse quilt edging.  Loren spent most of the afternoon weed-eating our yard and fixing a few hoses and sprinklers.
Caleb and Maria came for supper that evening, along with Victoria’s friend Robin.
 Victoria invited them... and she fixed chicken breast filets in the slow cooker after marinating them all night.  She made broiled asparagus spears to go with them, and baked Kaiser rolls and a couple of small 12-grain loaves, too.  I did my part by popping a frozen Schwan’s strawberry-mango pie into the oven.  We had Black Cherry frozen yogurt on it.  Oh, and I set the table.  Wasn’t that ambitious and helpful of me?  Maria brought a cheesy potato casserole.
It was a late supper, because Caleb didn’t get off work ’til almost 9:30 p.m.  The advantage to this is that everyone is so starved, the food – no matter what it is – tastes like ambrosia! 
By 11:00 p.m., the kitchen was clean again, the kids had left, Larry was sleeping, and Victoria was keeping me totally preoccupied with videos of Roger Bennett and Dino playing the piano... the Collingsworth family singing and playing various instruments... How was I supposed to write intelligently and comprehensibly with all that going on?!
I was sitting in my recliner, laptop in lap... and if that girl would ever let my brain relax just the teeniest bit, I would work on transferring stuff from website to blog.  (No... I never resent any moments spent with my children.) 
As I type, the birds are singing away.  A little wren, in particular, is right outside my window trying his best to raise the roof.  (Or the clouds, as it were.)  I hear robins... finches... Northern flickers... English sparrows... cardinals... doves... and the occasional squeaky-door squawkings of starlings and their noisy young competing with the cacophony of a few grackles.
Victoria picked up some flower flats – petunias and such – at Earl May’s for Loren; he wanted to plant them in a few large pots he has in his yard and beside his driveway.  Victoria gets a discount, since she works there, and her boss has told her that any of her family who shop there will get a discount, too.  Since we suspect he has no earthly idea just how many people this would entail, she just bought the flowers herself, thus saving Loren the trip to town, into the bargain.
When I finished putting the tabs on the interfacing, I cut them apart with a rotary cutter, all 584 of them.  I switched back and forth from the Olfa to the Martelli, in order to save wear and tear on my wrist.
Hannah, with the three younger children and Misty, came to borrow a shirt pattern; she’s making the boys shirts for the Fourth of July.  I was going through the pattern file in my laundry room, getting the patterns out, when two smiling little boys’ faces and one grinny doggy face popped around the corner. 
“Hi, Grandma!” said both Nathanael and Levi in unison, and Misty said, “Pant wag, pant pant wag!”
Joanna was in the kitchen, and had already discovered the stack of Sew Beautiful magazines I’d gotten from the UPS that morning.  She was deep into an article.  If there’s anything to read, anything at all, that girl is reading.
A little later, Lydia came visiting with Jacob and Jonathan.  Jonathan gave me a small stick. 
“You’re welcome,” he said, beaming at me as he put it into my hand. 
The poor little guy burnt his fingers just a bit on my coffee mug warmer – it hadn’t been on, but, unbeknownst to us, he turned it on, then touched it a few minutes later.  I put Aloe Vera from the refrigerator on a paper towel, and Lydia, after running cool water on the poor little fingers, put his hand on the paper towel.  It must’ve felt good, because he stopped crying, and put his hand on the towel himself a couple of times. 
Victoria gave him a drink of pineapple juice, which cheered him ... and he laughed when I wiped a drip of juice off his face and said, “Wipety-wipe your chinny-chin-chin!”
We walked outside, despite an influx of mosquitoes.  Victoria, carrying Jonathan, started down the side of the ditch on the east side of drive.  It was steeper than she’d expected, and she wound up trotting down faster than she’d intended. 
“WhoooOOOAAAaaaaaaa!” she exclaimed as she went, and Jonathan went into peals of laughter.  Sooo... Victoria ran up and down the ditch several more times, for entertainment purposes.  I, of course, grabbed the camera.
Sunday morning, I wrote and asked Lydia how Jonathan’s fingers were.  She replied, “I didn’t see any blister or sore on his hand.  Last night Jacob prayed that Jonathan’s hand wouldn’t get burned again.”
Children can certainly pull on your heartstrings, can’t they?
Robert was preaching at a church in Texas yesterday, so Bobby preached for our morning service, and his younger brother Stephen preached for the evening service.
Larry and I went to the grocery store after church last night and got all sorts of yummy things.  That’s the advantage of going to the store when one is hungry!
When we got home, we proceeded to behave just like pigs in a sty, when someone pitches a bucket of corncobs over the fence for them:  they run madly hither and yon, each trying their bestest to get a big ol’ chomp out of every single cob.  Oink!
This afternoon, I went to help Loren with his computer for a little bit – and he sent me out the door with a handful of groceries, worrying that he needed to give me money, too.
We’ve finished supper... and now I shall transfer a few more quilting posts from the old website to my blog.
When we got our first computer, back in 1999, I used AltaVista as a search engine.  I’d type something in... and if I was lucky, I’d get 100 hits – which may or may not have anything to do with what I actually was hunting for.  These days, Mr. Google is throwing the answer in my face before I even get done asking him. 
Actually, that wasn’t the very first computer... but the very, very first one could hardly be considered a computer.  Our kids got it from a friend in, oh, ’98, maybe... along with a box of those giant floppy disks.  I was delighted to find one that was something on the order of the Excel of today – a ledger program that would work marvelously, I thought, for Larry’s auto business. 
I happily spent the day transferring data from the printed ledger to the computer—and then discovered it had no hard drive, whatever that was, so I could not save my work.  No writable disk drive, either, huh-uh, nosiree.  No way, José.
I wanted to shoot songbirds, kick cats, and throw computers out winders.  Aaarrrrgggghhhh.
I finally decided, Well, at least everything balanced, and I turned off the stupid thing and went to bed.  Live and learn!  Hopefully.
In the morning, I plan to drown myself with bug spray and go outside and pull a few weeds.  This is no easy morning task, I’ll have you know, because I am stiffer’n a poker for a couple of hours after getting up.  Furthermore, I prefer doing things that stay done.  Such as quilting.  Sooo... when the gardens look pretty, I’ll take pictures.  At least the pictures won’t sprout weeds. 

I hope.

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


1 comment:

  1. Sorry about Black Kitty, but Johnathan looked happy with Victoria. You mentioned the yard stick story. That is a funny one and I really thought it was a special ruler for some special task.

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