Journal: Quilting, Pink Cake, and a Wedding

Last Monday night, Teddy was visiting after bringing back our vacuum that they’d borrowed when theirs went kaput.  They have a new one now.

I heard a scrabbling sound by the kitchen window, and thought it was one of the cats wanting in.  Teddy opened the front door – and found a raccoon scrambling up the side of the house to the eave!  Teddy tried to get it down with a shovel, but couldn’t reach it.  Larry got a longer-handled implement, and got it down, finally.  It went waddling off due west, seemingly none the worse for wear.  Now, let’s hope it doesn’t have babies somewhere up in those eaves or in the addition.  :-{

Tuesday afternoon, I created a big pile of winterkill and stray rosebush branches that I clipped from the flower gardens near the porch.  I still need to haul them down south with the wheelbarrow; but almost every day since then it has rained and been cold outside. 

Now I need to start working on the backyard flowerbeds.

I chatted with my brother, as I do each afternoon, and he told me about helping Teddy and his kiddos dig holes to plant some little trees he’d taken them.  Some of the kids were a bit overzealous and wound up with holes two feet deep.  So Loren helped put some earth back in the hole and tamp it down, while the hardworking dirt-digging children looked on with a bit of regret.  And then, as he was leaving, Grant came running after him, calling, “Uncle Yoooooooorrrn!”  Loren stopped, turned around. 

Here came Grant, pell-mell:  “I forgot to give you a hug!”

And with that, he wrapped his arms around his great-uncle and gave him a first-class hug.  “I hadn’t had that good of a hug in a long time!” Loren told me, laughing.

I paid the bills, washed the dishes, and headed down to my sewing room to pull out bins of quilting fabrics.  Hannah had sent me pictures of the bride’s dishes, which are in shades light blues and greens.  The question was, did I have enough of those colors to make anything that would coordinate all right?  If I had enough fabric that would come anywhere close to being on the right street, I’d decided to give it a go.

I sound British.

It appeared I did have fabric that would work.  I plugged new colors into the EQ7 design, printed foundation papers on thin newsprint, and taped the various sections together.  And then it was bedtime.

Wednesday morning, according to AccuWeather, it was snowing in eleven of the 48 contingent states.

I started cutting and sewing, and got quite a bit of the table topper put together before time for our midweek church service.

In the late afternoon, hungry, I looked for a snack.  Where izzit, where izzit??

Did you ever greedily squirrel away the last streusel bar in order to keep Somebuddy Else from eating it ------ and then forget where you put it???

If I don’t find that thing before it ‘breeds worms and stinks’, as the Israelites’ manna did when they tried to save it, I’m going to be sad!

I made do with a handful of sunflower seeds and a slice of cheese.

A friend, commiserating with me on the lost streusel bar, told of some scissors her mother had put away safely, never to be found again.  (The scissors, not the mother.) 

That reminded me of the time our son-in-law Bobby’s grandmother, Clarice, was preparing to make her four daughters dresses for Christmas.  That would have been in the early 60s.  She got out the fabric... the patterns... looked for her good dressmaker sheers...

No sheers to be found anywhere.  She looked high and low... low and high... no scissors.  So she set to work, using her not-so-nice kitchen scissors.  In those days of careful spending and saving, one didn’t just rush off and buy a new pair of sheers!

She got the dresses done.  Christmas came.  The family gathered in the living room to dole out gifts.  Bobby’s father, John, who was about four years old, proudly brought his mother a gift that he had carefully (albeit a bit clumsily) wrapped, himself.

“This is for you, Mama!” he said.

She took the box, surprised.  “What is it, Johnny?” 

She opened it – and there were her good dressmaker sheers.

“My sheers!” she exclaimed in amazement.

John beamed.  “I knowed you’d be real happy!” he said, delighted over his mother’s amazement.

There was a frost advisory that night until 9:00 a.m. Thursday morning.  It got cold enough, and stayed that way long enough, that if people didn’t cover freshly-planted flowers, they’re no doubt sorry by now. 

Thursday I got the central part of the table topper finished, and all the pieces for the border cut.  Friday, I put the borders on. 

Some areas around here got half an inch of snow that morning, though it turned to rain by noon.  It was cold, only 38°.

We were invited to Kurt’s parents’ home that evening for a baby-reveal party – the color of the inside of the cake would tell everyone whether the baby is a boy or a girl.  (But she’d already told me – it’s a girl – and ruined the surprise, silly girl.)  The name ‘Victoria’ and the word ‘secret’ aren’t very often used in the same sentence, unless you also add in the word ‘spilled’.  😃 She’s just so happy and bubbly and excited over it, you see! 

Lydia is happy and excited over their new baby-to-come, too.  She’s just more... private.

After Larry got home from work that evening, Loren brought us sandwiches from Subway.  Nice of him – I didn’t have to stop sewing to cook!

By the time we got to Bill and Ruth’s house, everyone had been waiting for us for at least an hour.  And then Victoria cut the cake --------

Note Caleb’s laughing face just behind Kurt and Victoria.  Everyone laughed because Larry (behind Victoria) asked, all innocent-like, “What’s the question mark on top of the cake for?”  Larry’s niece Rachel made the cake, and the question mark and baby elephants were done in chocolate.

You can be sure, all the little girl cousins and young aunties were tickled pink at that pink cake.  I told one of the little boys that boys aren’t supposed to eat pink cake.  He grinned at me – and took a big bite.

When we got home, I finished putting together the quilt top, cut the backing, and rummaged up some batting.  I loaded it on my quilting frame – and went to bed.

I quilted all day Saturday.  Of course I would decide to do a custom job, with lotsa fancy-schmancy stuff...  That, because I wasn’t totally happy with the colors I’d put together.  The darker olive color bugs me.  So I determined to make up for it with the quilting.

What do you do when there’s too much to do?  How do you cope?  Where do you start?  Does a long list of things to do energize you, or frustrate you?  Do you ask for help?  Are you good at delegating chores – and is there anyone to whom chores can be delegated?  Do you go in order, and what determines that order?

I like making lists.  I have grocery lists, daily lists, weekly lists, lists of things I plan to make, lists of gifts I need to buy or make, lists of bills that need to be paid... etc.

When everything is piling up and I’m running out of time, my besetting sin is to get all irritable and short-tempered.

I do NOT want to be like that.  Therefore, I have a Plan of Attack:  I pull out my list, make sure everything is in OAI (Order According to Importance), and tell myself, One step at a time.  Just one step at a time.  Then I launch in, whether that first item on the list is something I want to do, or not.  If there are a bunch of things that are vying for importance, I choose first the one that will take the least amount of time, because it’s encouraging to check things off. 

I save the most enjoyable things for last – my reward, for getting all those other things done.  And by telling myself again, every now and then, Just one thing at a time, things do indeed get done.  Usually.

Late that night – early Sunday morning, actually – 3:00 a.m., to be precise – I got to a point where I thought, I will have time to finish this tomorrow afternoon.  So I turned off my HQ16 and went to bed, making sure to set my alarm for 6:55 a.m.

Tabby woke me up squalling around at a quarter ’til six.  I squalled back at him, and he hushed up.  I fell asleep... and Larry woke me up at 6:00 with his snoring.

“Can you turn over?” I asked politely (you know I’m always polite), pushing at him. 

He turned over.  I finally fell back to sleep (I find it hard to fall asleep when I know my alarm is going to go off in forty-five minutes) – and then Teensy woke me up, gallumping madly through the house.  I got up to remonstrate with him -------- and it was 8:28 a.m.!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Aaaacccckkkk!!!  My alarm hadn’t gone off!  It was still ticking, but the time on it was 5:30 a.m.  We need to leave by 9:30 to get there in time.

Why is it, if batteries are going to fail, they fail on the most important day of the week?

“It’s 8:28!” I screeched at Larry.  “I’m late!  My alarm didn’t go off!  I can’t get ready in one hour!  I have to take a bath, wash my hair, curl it, iron my clothes...  Can’t do it!”

But I did.  In fact, I was ready before Larry.

Larry brought me home after church so I could finish the wedding gift, then went to Kurt and Victoria’s house to pick up our dinner – Victoria made chicken with mandarin oranges and some kind of yummy sauce... rice... vegetables... We could’ve eaten with them, had I not been trying to finish that quilt.  This is what happens, when I change my mind and decide to make them something after all, the Wednesday before the wedding!

I had only a few hours before time to get ready for the wedding.  If it wasn’t done in time, I could give it to the bride’s mother later; the couple would have it when they returned from their honeymoon.  But I kept thinking... ‘I’m almost done, I’m almost done...’

By 4:00, the quilting was done, and the quilt removed from the frame.  By 4:25, I’d cut and sewn the binding strips together, attached it to the front of the quilt, and was folding it around and pinning it to the other side.

After finishing the binding, I used my iron on the FriXion pen marks and a mist on the disappearing ink pen marks.  I took pictures of the quilt, and hunted for a box big enough for both quilt and bowl set.

More pictures here.

A little after 5:30, Larry came wandering groggily down the stairs, having just awoken from a long nap, wondering if I was going to get done.  He found me at my marble table putting the folded quilt into the box with the set of wooden bowls, spoons, and chopsticks, and tucking in the note telling them what it was (table topper, couch throw, lapghan... as they wish) and how to launder it.

Anyone who sets foot in my space when I’m running late gets jobs to do.  “The wedding cards are in that drawer over there–” (gesturing) “–and there’s a pen on that table.”  (pointing)

He obligingly got the items, though he was somewhat stumped when he opened the drawer and found a few hundred cards of all variety, class, and form.  He held up one with a picture of two sleeping puppies on the front and the words, ‘When you’re dog tired...’ 

“Is this one okay?” 

He eventually found the box with the wedding cards, selected one, put the box back in the drawer, got it back out, retrieved an envelope, and returned said box to said drawer.

I put the last piece of tape on the wrapping paper (barely had enough; had to piece it; I’m a quilter! I can piece wrapping paper!), scribbled on card and envelope, taped it down, and dashed upstairs to don my glad rags.

The suit was wrinkled.

Fortunately, I’d left the steamer on, just in case.  I ran back downstairs, suit in hand.

I love that steamer.  Jacket and skirt were shipshape in two minutes flat.  Back up the stairs I raced, and got dressed in record time.  I stuck my feet in my shoes, grabbed purse and Bibles, exited the bedroom – and Larry came strolling out of the bathroom, having just combed his hair and brushed his teeth ------------ and still dressed in his everyday clothes!!!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!” I said in my polite way.  (I’m always polite.)  “We need to leave now!!!!”

“I’m almost ready!” he told me cheerfully. 

(He wasn’t.)  (But he’s almost always cheerful.)

We got to church in time.  The music hadn’t started... and we didn’t have to run competition getting down the aisle in front of the bride.  That’s always a plus, when one isn’t racing the bride down the aisle.

We walked in, trying not to huff and puff, trying to look elegant and refined, trying to be calm, cool, and collected.  We seated ourselves, and proceeded to enjoy the service.

Here’s the entire wedding party:

Our niece Rachel made the wedding cake.

It was snowing this morning when Larry went to work.  Bloomfield got 7”.

So far in the last couple of days, two friends who live somewhere to our south have sent me photos of honeysuckle blooming in their yards.  Just trying to make me jealous, I do believe.

I have a honeysuckle vine in the back yard.  It would be bigger – but a couple of boys who may or may not be related to me took it down to a short stump (Larry says they only ‘pruned’ it, ha!) one winter when they went skidding down the hill on one of the toboggans.  

Out of control!  Out of contrrrrrrrrr--------------  CRAAAAAAAAACK.  

And there were the brat menfolk, flat on their backs in the snow, laughing like a couple of blame idiots.  (What’s a ‘blame’ idiot?)    

A little after noon today Loren brought me a pattern for baby clothes and a book with Overall Bill quilt blocks that used to be Janice’s.  I gave him a box of Jello in return, and he said he’d try making it himself.  Cooking and computering are what scare him the most in life.  😆

Larry came home for lunch while Loren was here.

Yesterday was Kurt and Victoria’s six-month anniversary.  She posted a picture I don’t recall seeing before:

A friend has a habit of accidentally sending an email before she’s done writing it.  (She’s probably hitting a keyboard shortcut – Ctrl + Enter, or Alt + s.  One can turn those shortcuts off, if one prefers.)  Anyway, I told her a premature email is called an E-postus Interruptus.  heh

Someone recently asked me for a banana bread recipe I use.  It’s one that’s actually for zucchini bread.  I’m not often fond of that old banana bread recipe such as the one found in the original Betty Crocker cookbook; it’s too bitter for my taste.  So I posted the recipe I like on my recipe blog:  Sarah Lynn’s Banana Nut Loaf

When I was a teenager, my friends and I learned to our astonishment that parents of a couple of our good friends (who were likewise astonished) were both going by their middle names, ‘Abner and Annie’.  Their first names were in fact Frances and Denise.

They certainly didn’t look like a ‘Frances’ and a ‘Denise’.  We impudent teenagers called them ‘Frances and Denise’ after that.

Sometimes, when we were particularly irreverent, we called them ‘Francie and Dennis’.  Bratty little girls, we were! 

No... really, we were just teasing, and they were fun to tease.  We teased them because we liked them.  And they teased back, so all was well.

And then there was another friend of ours who, upon attempting to procure a passport for himself, discovered that the name he had gone by all his life wasn’t even on his birth certificate at all – neither first nor middle names!  His ‘real’ names were entirely different.

He took it all in stride.  “I looked in the mirror,” he remarked, “and I looked exactly like I looked yesterday, so I guess it’s still me!”  (pause)  “So long as Minnie (his wife) still calls me for dinner, I don’t care what anyone else calls me.” 

Tabby is not doing well today.  One eye is mattering, and he has even less of an appetite than usual.  A couple of hours ago I coaxed him into eating a little bit – a wee little bit – and that seemed to perk him up just a smidgeon.  Poor little guy... he’s skin and bones.  I work at it, to get him to eat as much as he does.

For supper tonight we had bagel dogs, sliced beets, golden fruit, and chocolate chip/peanut butter chip cookies for dessert.

I finally got Tabby to eat about a third of a can of soft food.  He looked better after that – something about the brightness of the eyes – and now he’s sleeping in his little therma bed.  He hasn’t been in it all day, maybe it was because it was a little too high of a jump for him.  He kept sleeping in the lily beds below the back deck, and that worried me, too.

Now here in this shot, we have the groom’s customary ‘wuzzis’ look, and the bride’s customary ‘you so silly’ look.

I’d better get busy!  There are lots of things to do, and I’m not getting any of them done.

Some years ago, when I worked as an Administrative Assistant for Keystone Pipeline, my boss sent me the following:

Recently, I was diagnosed with AAADD – Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder.

This is how it manifests: 

I decide to wash my car. As I start toward the garage, I notice that there is mail on the hall table. I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car. I lay my car keys down on the table, put the junk mail in the trashcan under the table, and notice that the trashcan is full.

So, I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the trash first. But then I think, since I’m going to be near the mailbox when I take out the trash anyway, I may as well pay the bills first.

I take my checkbook off the table, and see that there is only one check left. My extra checks are in my desk in the study, so I go to my desk where I find the bottle of coke that I had been drinking.

I’m going to look for my checks, but first I need to push the coke aside so that I don’t accidentally knock it over. I see that the coke is getting warm, and I decide I should put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold.

As I head toward the kitchen with the coke, a vase of flowers on the counter catches my eye -- they need to be watered. I set the coke down on the counter, and I discover my reading glasses that I’ve been searching for all morning.

I decide I better put them back on my desk, but first I’m going to water the flowers. I set the glasses back down on the counter, fill a container with water and suddenly I spot the TV remote. Someone left it on the kitchen table. I realize that tonight when we go to watch TV, we will be looking for the remote, but nobody will remember that it’s on the kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the den where it belongs, but first I’ll water the flowers.

I splash some water on the flowers, but most of it spills on the floor.

So, I set the remote back down on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill.

Then I head down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do.

At the end of the day: the car isn’t washed, the bills aren’t paid, there is a warm bottle of coke sitting on the counter, the flowers aren’t watered, there is still only one check in my checkbook, I can’t find the remote, I can’t find my glasses, and I don’t remember what I did with the car keys.

Then when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I’m really baffled because I know I was busy all day long, and I’m really tired. I realize this is a serious problem, and I’ll try to get some help for it, but first I’ll check my e-mail.

Okay, now I’d really better get busy.

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