Doggy Accidents, Tonsils, and Bean Soup

People have been asking me if I plan to sell the Mosaic Lighthouse quilt.  No... I intend to hang it in our new bedroom someday.

But... sometimes I wonder what would happen if I listed it on Etsy at some astronomical sum of ... hmmm ... $6,000?  Wouldn’t that be a shocker, if someone actually bought it?!

Larry really likes it, though; I doubt if he would be agreeable to parting with it.  And I don’t want to make another one like it.

The owner of a quilt shop in a town not too far from us told me about a quilt she once made, about halfway between crib- and twin-sized.  She was quite proud of it, as it had turned out so well, and was an elaborate pattern (if she told me what it looked like, I no longer remember).  She hung it in her quilt shop.

Well, a man came into her store one day, saying he was a quilt appraiser from New York City.  He was dressed in a suit, and he drove a nice car.  He said he was passing through on his way to California, and now and then he stopped at quilt shops along the way.

He suddenly spotted her quilt.  He walked over and spent a long time looking at it, flipping back a corner to look at the back.

And then, to her immense astonishment, he offered her $9,000. 

She gulped.  “Nine hundred?” she said, correcting what she thought was surely an error.

“No, $9,000.  It’s a lovely quilt, and I’d like to add it to my collection of show quilts.”

So she sold her quilt for $9,000, and sent him off with a paper telling how she’d made it, the fabric and thread she’d used, the name of the pattern, and so forth. 

She laughed, “And to think I hadn’t thought that quilt was worth much more than $150!”

Moral of the story:

You can sell anything, and for any price, if you can find a buyer willing to pay for it.

A lady on an online quilting group was telling about a book called Time for a Chain by Nancy Smith and Lynda Milligan.  It has many different patterns for single, double, and triple chains.  I like Irish Chain quilts, so I looked it up.  It was listed at $8.95. 

And then I spotted Time for a Chain II by the same authors.  !

 Now that I’ve regained my senses and can type, I can tell you that a used paperback is $1,101.89, and a new one is $1,010.32. 

I’ll have the new one, please, as it’s $91.57 cheaper.

The copyright on the first book is 1997.  Copyright of book II is 2008. 

User Wisepenny needs to pay his house payment, I guess, and he only has one book to sell!

Tabby just scrambled up onto my lap, using my footstool as a stepping stone.  Now he’s standing up and peering into my face, in order to garner my attention and keep me from looking at the screen.  :-D

This little squirrel is thinking very strongly about jumping to the window ledge where I was taking pictures.  She got onto the back of the deck chair... wiggle-waggled in anticipation – and chickened out.

(I was wondering exactly what I would do, if she carried through!)  Meanwhile, I kept right on snapping the shutter.

Tuesday afternoon, I made bean soup.  The soup contained a large variety of dried beans.  I think it said 16-bean soup on the package, but I’d have to get up and walk way over there ------------>> to the trash can and rummage around in it to find it.  Then I added chunks of Black Angus meatloaf burger, carrots, peas, corn, green beans, tomato soup (made with milk), onions, and the rest of the chicken enchilada soup from the neighbors.  I threw in a chunk of sharp cheddar... added more salt... sweet basil... Spanish paprika... garlic salt... celery salt... sage... thyme... tasted it...  It was a little bland.  By now I had approximately 6 quarts of soup.  I salted it a little more... tasted it... still too bland. 

So I cautiously opened the packet of Cajun seasoning that came with the package of beans, and smelled it.  Mmmm, smelled good.  I got a spoonful of soup, sprinkled a tiny bit of seasoning into it, and tasted it.  Mmmm, tasted good.

I threw all caution to the wind and dumped the whole works in.

Uh, oh.  Really spicy.  That Cajun seasoning must’ve been pinkish-red in color on account of cayenne pepper!

Okay, this wasn’t good, because, although I loved it and could’ve devoured a big bowlful without trouble, I was making it not only for us, but for my brother, and also for Bobby and Hannah and family!  Bobby and Hannah and several of the children had been sick for over a week.  Hannah had a fever, and Bobby had a terrible cough.  They had prescriptions, but they weren’t getting better very fast.  So I thought a big pot of soup would be just the ticket.

Well, I added more vegetables... more water... and half a dozen slices of American cheese.  I added a couple more quarts of water.  Then I let it simmer for quite some time, letting the vegetables absorb some of the spiciness.  Forty-five minutes later, it seemed to be about right, though I still worried about whether or not it would be okay for my brother.

I called Hannah.  “Have you fixed anything for supper yet?”

“Yes,” she said, “I have fixed an idea in my head, and I’m heading into the store right now to get the ingredients for the idea.”  Hee hee  (And she wonders why her kids talk funny.)

I told her about the soup. 

“Oh, we love Cajun flavoring!” she exclaimed.  “And though I haven’t felt like eating much, I was finally hungry for something with maybe a Mexican flavor – something spicy!  So we’re thinking along the same lines.”  Then she added, “We like to put dollops of sour cream into soup when it’s too hot.”

Ah!  Good idea.  So when I took it to my brother, I took him some sour cream, too, and a little Thermos full of Vanilla Bean ice cream to go on his pie.  Meanwhile, I had also baked Southern flaky biscuits to go with the soup, and a strawberry mango pie (from Schwan’s) for dessert.  (I only had one pie, so Hannah had to supply her own dessert – sorry, Hannah.) 

Loren called me some time later to tell me that he’d eaten all of the soup (!!! – I thought I’d given him enough for two days!  He was hungry, on account of being so busy all day), and the pie and ice cream, too.  He hadn’t needed the sour cream; he loved the soup exactly as it was.  He was saving the biscuits for breakfast in the morning.

“Well, I hope you don’t croak!” I exclaimed, and he laughed. 

“It was gooooood,” he informed me.

Wouldn’t you know, my sister had made him potato soup that night, too.  “I’m just heading over to pick it up,” he told me. 

“Are you going to eat that, too?!” I asked in mock amazement, and he laughed again.

“Noooo...” 

That evening, I finished filling out the online entry for my quilt, and forked over the dough for the cost of return shipping, in case we don’t go, or in case we aren’t in Daytona Beach on the final day of the quilting show.  That’ll give us the freedom to go where we please, and we won’t be so crowded for space in the Jeep on the way home, either.  Things seem to expand as you travel, have you ever noticed that?

Now all that’s left to do is to pack it up properly (i.e., they don’t want any local chipmunks sent along) and make sure it arrives in Paducah, Kentucky, between January 25-29.

The other day, little Grant came running to show me his ‘penny’.  It took a good deal of work to convince him it was a dime:  (...grin...)  “No, is a peeny!” 

Me:  “It’s a dime!  See, it’s littler than a penny—”

Grant, beaming at me:  “Is a peeny!”

Me:  “Nope, it really is a dime.  See, it’s silver!  A penny is copper.”

After two or three go-arounds, he studied the dime.  “Silver?” he asked.  “Peeny is copper?”

“Yep,” I affirmed.

He grinned up at me, held up the coin.  “Is a dime!” he announced, every bit as adamantly as he’d announced it was a peeny. 

Boy oh boy, didn’t that remind me of the time I tried to convince his Daddy, at about the same age, that his real name was ‘Theodore’.  (...grin...)  “No, I is a Teddy!”

Wednesday morning, the UPS man arrived with an order from Amazon:  three blocks of suet for the birds (with cayenne pepper, to keep the squirrels from devouring it), a ruffly gray sweater that I would wear to church that night, and a package of Bob’s Red Mill bulgur wheat.  I love bulgur wheat, and haven’t been able to find it for the longest time.  I spotted it on Amazon, and my temporary Prime account is still active, so I didn’t have to pay shipping.  I’d seen it before on Amazon, but the shipping is as high as the product itself. 

Soon the stuff was simmering on the stove in the new Carico pan John H. and Lura Kay gave me for Christmas, and before long I had a scrumptious breakfast.

I planned to make a nightgown for Joanna that day, as it was her 13th birthday.  I was just heading off to find the pattern when the FedEx man came to the door – bearing the lost tennis racket we’d ordered for Aaron for Christmas!  Since I knew Joanna had also wanted a racket, I decided this was the sign:  I’d give her the racket, balls, a pretty pink flowered-and-butter-flied notebook, and a matching pink rhinestone pen; and I’d make the nightgown later, after completing my customer’s quilts.  We’ll get another tennis racket for Aaron, whose birthday is in April.

We had a heatwave that day – it was 41°.  But it wouldn’t last.

I ironed the quilt top, loaded top, back, and batting onto the frame, and set about playing with all my new quilt-marking tools:

Fons & Porter Mechanical Fabric Pencil

Clover Pen Style Chaco Liner

Dritz Quilting Chalk Cartridge Set

We took Joanna’s gift to her that night after church.  They offered us brownies.  Hannah wondered if it was safe to give us brownies from their ‘sick house’ ... and then Bobby walked back into the hall with Larry’s brownie – holding it right in his hand.

Except... he had on a latex glove.  haha

Larry, of course, immediately wanted to know if the brownie was toxic.  hee hee

Over the next three days, I worked on my customer’s quilt.  As the fabric was quite ‘busy’, the Dritz quilting chalk worked best.  The Fons & Porter mechanical fabric pencil will be great for solid-colored fabric; it makes a thin, fine mark.  Clover Chaco Liner is a nifty little thing with chalk in a cartridge above a rolling, finely-cogged wheel.  It works well for rolling along the edge of a ruler.  I got refills in several colors for each of these markers.  They are working much better than my fabric pencils that wouldn’t mark well on fabric and whose lines I could hardly see.

Dorcas has been working on her nursery, decorating it in a Winnie-the-Pooh motif.  She sent me a picture of the curtains and a wall hanging she’d just finished.

“That’s really cute,” I told her.  “Now scare a hole into the wall, plunk a nail into it, and you’ll be all set.  Remember when Caleb told me I needed a ‘tickle bolt’ (toggle bolt) for a heavy mirror I was hanging?”

I scared a hole into the wall after we moved out here, trying to pound a nail into plaster.  Or at least, that’s what it looked like.  Should’ve known better, since the house I grew up in also had plaster walls.  But I’d gotten so accustomed to Sheetrock, I picked up a big nail and a hammer – and proceeded to do some major damage.

Larry got home late that night after replacing the power steering pump on his pickup.  It was only $55 for a new one—and he’s been putting in additives and babying it along ever since he got it.  In the mornings when it was cold, he hardly had any power steering at all.  And for $55, less the credit for the old one he’ll return so they can rebuild it, he could’ve been safe, all this time.

It was about 1:00 a.m. when I quit with the quilting, almost to the halfway mark on the quilt, and got on with some photo editing, seated in the recliner wrapped in a soft micro-fiber blanket from my sister, a heating pad behind my back. 

Have you ever watched the little juncos?  They are ground feeders, and are one of very few birds with this unique habit:  they leap forward lickety-split with both feet and scrape backwards, in order to uncover the little seeds that make up a good 75% of their diet.  We see these little birds only in the winter.  Come spring, they head farther north.  One young male stayed around long enough a couple of years ago, that I happened to hear his mating warble, which I’d never heard before.  I’d never have known it was a junco, except there he was, perched in the lilac bush right outside my window, singing his heart out!  The house wrens hushed up and stared, evidently as amazed as I was.  :-D

More photos are here:  Birds in the Snow

Friday evening, I took Loren some supper – grain-encrusted cod, California vegetable mix (cauliflower, broccoli, and carrots), peas, and apple/grape/pineapple salad.

It’s getting exciting these days, waiting for 2:00 a.m. to roll around – that’s when Craftsy sends out their sales tallies.  I sold three patterns each two days in a row, and there around 30 downloads of the free patterns each day.  6 patterns at $5/ea. – that’s 30 bucks.  As soon as I get a few of things on my ‘Have-to-Do’ list done, I’m going to draw up some more patterns.  Why didn’t I do this long ago, anyway?!

My brother actually pulled up an email from his granddaughter and read it all by himself (with me coaching him on the phone, while I was doing the same thing on my computer), clicked on a link to her wedding pictures, and scrolled through them.  He was pleased as punch – with both his granddaughter and with himself, I think. 

A friend was telling of her cat getting stuck in a bag, and then making rescue a difficult operation by running from her would-be rescuers.  Teensy has gotten stuck in a bag a couple of times, but instead of running, he comes to me, meowing and purring, asking me to get it off of him, not struggling at all when I lift a paw to get it out of a bag handle, or pull a handle over his head.  We are more careful with bags, since that happened.

Once, though, a stray cat came in through the pet door, stuck its head into a bag he found – and about that time Larry came around the corner and startled it.  That cat proceeded to dash headlong through the house with its head and front paws inside the bag, only the back half of him sticking out.  He hurtled through the laundry room, back into the kitchen, and on into the living room, now and then turning complete somersaults in his panic, yowling and making a dreadful ruckus.  Eventually, he got out of the bag, found the pet door, and fled for dear life.

Early Saturday afternoon, I took Teddy with his golden lab, Biscuit, to the vet in town – she’d gotten hit by a car.  She was in a lot of pain... multiple lacerations and gashes... swelling internally... fluid around the lungs... but amazingly enough, no broken bones, no ruptured spleen.  There are tire tracks on her – we think the vehicle went over her lengthwise (and drove off, the villains).  Ohhh, that upsets me, makes me feel so bad, to see an animal in pain like that! 

Poor doggy... she’s such a sweet dog.  She never acted cross with a soul, even though she was in such pain she was having great difficulty breathing.  The vet gave her a handful of shots – an antibiotic, vitamin K (to help stop the bleeding), something for pain, Lasix (to eliminate fluid around the organs), and a local anesthetic so she could put four staples in the worst of the gashes.

There is still the possibility of blood clots moving into her lungs or elsewhere, and that could kill her.  But it’s been 2 ½ days now, so we are hopeful she will recover all right.

Larry had gone to Kansas City that morning to get a 2003 Dodge dually extended cab.  After he got home, he helped Teddy work on his van.

That afternoon, I spread the Mosaic Lighthouse quilt out on my marble table, and steamed that part of it that fit on the table top, hoping to get it to lie flatter.  I’ll steam and flatten it thoroughly before I send it... then I’ll wad and cram it into a box and the UPS baboons will play Beanbag Toss with it all the way to Florida, and the steaming will have done no good whatsoever.  Maybe I should send it in a tube?

Knowing that I’m wanting to make doll clothes for Emma, a friend sent me a description of how she makes doll shoes, gluing foam and whatnot together.

Sounds cute as can be... but I have had disastrous results with foam and glue projects before.  Perhaps my problem with glue is like Red Skelton’s when he was in the laundromat that time, peering into a filling washing machine, box of detergent in hand:  “You reckon a whole box will do?”

And then, a few minutes later, “Look at those suds!”

(pause) 

“Just look at those suds!”

(shorter pause)

“Would you just LOOK at those suds!!!”

And immediately thereafter, “GET THE WOMEN AND THE CHILDREN OUT FIRST!”

That’s me and glue.

Hannah took Joanna to the doctor Saturday morning, and discovered she has ear infections.  In addition, her tonsils are in bad shape, and the doctor recommends having them removed.  Poor dear; she hasn’t felt well for a while now.  What a bummer, being sick over your 13th birthday! 

Late Saturday night, I finished my customer’s quilt.

Brrrrrrrr!  Sunday morning dawned cold, cold.  At 7:00 a.m., it was -4°, with a wind chill of -20°.

Teddy’s dog Biscuit had made it through the night, and she even drank some water that morning.  She was very stiff and still in a lot of pain, though. 

I keep remembering little Grant’s sad face as he ran to meet me Saturday, taking my hand and leading me to his doggy, saying, “Her got wunned ovah wif a cah!”

Kurt ate dinner with us, and Victoria fixed pulled pork on 12-grain miniature loaves, broccoli, and frozen berries (blackberries, blueberries, and raspberries) for dessert.

Biscuit is better today.  She’s not breathing so dreadfully hard, and she’s able to go outside when she needs to.  She’s very stiff and sore, and groans and moans when she moves.  The kids were so excited because she let out one quiet bark this morning.

The box with resin teddy bears is still en route to Dorcas, and is supposed to arrive tomorrow.  You know, delivery employees, whether with the USPS, UPS, or FedEx, have to put ball and chain on packages to keep them from arriving at their destinations too soon, when you pay for the cheapest method of delivery.  For instance, this box stayed in Des Moines for two full days – and now it’s been at the Atlanta post office for four and a half full days.  It isn’t as if they put them on a llama train in order to save on fuel; they have to purposely let those packages cool their heels here and there along the way, and the truck drivers have to drag their feet with all might and main in order to make it take as long as they say it will, when you send it the cheapest way, or the packages would get to the destination ‘too soon’.  

There you are, that’s my 2¢-worth.  {Discounts available.}

Tonight Larry got the scissor lift that he got a week ago Saturday in Kansas City fixed.  It’s a big, nice, expensive one – but he got it cheap, because the company had installed a steering mechanism on it ---- and it didn’t work.  Turns out, the problem was simply two little wires connected wrong, nothing more. 

“This is better than winning the lottery!” exclaimed Larry, and hit the button to make the thing rise 36 feet.  It’s four-wheel-drive, has fat tires on it, and will go through snow and ice nicely, something the old one wouldn’t do.  It’s diesel-powered rather than battery-powered, too.  Much better.

Bed time!  My eyelids are getting heavier... heavier... heavier...

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