Journal: Family Get-Together, and Furniture-Moving

A couple of people were asking me for details on the new lights Larry put in my quilting studio.  What I know about such things would fit in a thimble.  But here’s what it says on the box:  LED 4-foot shop light.  Starts instantly down to 0°F.  No heat.  Energy efficient: only uses 50 watts.  Equivalent amount of light as four 32-watt fluorescent bulbs, yet only uses 50 watts of electricity.  Lasts 35,000 hours, compared with the typical 20,000-hour life of fluorescent bulbs.  No maintenance:  no bulbs to replace.  Light output in lumens:  4,200K (bright white).

And now you probably know more than me, because I imagine you knew something in the first place.  😅

It was bright and sunny last Tuesday, made doubly so by the new-fallen snow, but only 6°, with a wind chill of -1°.  The little birds at the feeders were all fluffed and puffed, doing their bestest to stay warm.  Once, I saw a white-crowned sparrow out there.  Rare bird, hereabouts.  He wasn’t timid about it, either – he ran lickety-split, twiddledy-dee at one of the little juncos who evidently was about to grab the very black-oil sunflower seed he wanted, out of all those thousands of seeds in the feeder.

We heard good news about our sister-in-law Annette’s surgery that day:  All went well, and they were able to remove most of the cancer.  The only remaining cancer is in the form of little bumps; it’s called ‘miliary disease’.  They’ll be able to treat it with chemo.

This is much better news than we’d been expecting.

Larry’s Uncle Clyde can no longer respond with speech.  He had said earlier that he wanted to make it to his 84^th birthday – in February – but it’s doubtful he’ll live that long.

Some of the pictures scattered through this letter are from our most recent trip to Colorado.

That night, I cleaned off my maple wood cutting table, and then Larry removed the legs, took the top apart (I had one leaf in it), and hauled it from basement sewing room to upstairs quilting studio.  I carried up the speakers, complete with central woofer, that I like to plug into my laptop when I play music, the pretty box with all the beads and silk ribbons and Letraset Promarkers and the tools for silk ribbon embroidery, tool caddies, embroidery module, and a few other A-One, Important Jetsam and Flotsam, Stuff and Things.  I put the big cutting mats back on the maple wood table.

And I made a mess of my marble table in the other room downstairs by putting a pile of stuff on it that I don’t want upstairs. 

You know what I’ve been noticing?  I have dressers and closets and bins all around the basement.  The basement is 30’ x 33’, plus a storage area with shelves under the front porch.

My upstairs quilting room is about 11’ x 22’.

Here’s a deeply involved scientific fact:  All my stuff in the basement is not going to fit in my room upstairs.

So... for one thing, I’m going to leave all my fabric bins downstairs.  I’ll put the main things in the upstairs quilting studio... and then just figure out what else I want and need up there as I go along. 

After the man finished setting up frame and machine last week, I asked Larry, “Did you get me this to try to make up for the fiasco on Wolf Creek Pass?”

He laughed and pointed out the window at the pickup camper on the back of his older red and white Chevy crewcab.  “That’s my Christmas present.”

’Course, the camper only cost $1,000.  The Avanté?  $6,500.  Plus, he bought both items with his own money.  But he thinks we’re even!  He’s like that; that’s Larry.  😊  (Can’t count.)

Pudgy, purry, ol’ Tiger is getting a lot more exercise than usual, kalumpity-lumping along with me down two flights, up two flights, down two flights, and back up again.  He particularly does this when Larry is helping me, especially if we pause somewhere and chat for a few moments.  This, he evidently thinks, is a friendly sound, and he rushes to wrap himself around our ankles, purring and making figure eights and going from one to the other.  If either of us make any move that signals we might be heading off, he whirls around (at great risk to his equilibrium) and cuts directly in front of us, staring up all wide-eyed into our faces as if to say, You would nevah-evah run over me, right?  Right??!!!

Maybe all this moving will improve Tiger’s health and prolong his life.  After all, they (whoever ‘they’ are) say that those who live in houses with flights of stairs live longer!  Here he is at the top of the stairs, trying his bestest to stay exactly halfway between Larry and me.

In discussions with Victoria about this cat that came to us a couple of years ago, we have tentatively come to the conclusion that he very likely was one of the kittens born at our neighbors’ house about 7 or 8 years ago when they were on a trip to Europe and we were caring for all their mangy wild cats.  Every day, Victoria or I would go fill all the pans with the cheap cat food they provided.  There was only one cat amongst the lot that would ever let us pet her.  We called her ‘Mrs. Gray’.

One day we discovered she’d had kittens under a low-hanging house eve – and a nasty old tomcat was holding her and the kittens hostage and had already killed one kitten.  We chased him away and moved Mrs. Gray and the surviving kittens to a nearby shed.  (The neighbor man would later rant and rave about that – he didn’t think cats belonged in any of his structures, be it house, barn, or shed, no matter that it hadn’t been used for years and years.)

As the kittens grew, Victoria would go see them often.  Some days I’d find her upstairs in her room ... with a kitten cuddled up in one of her doll blankets.  I warned her not to do that, because our cats might hurt them, and because the kittens would begin thinking this was their home.  One of the most loveable kittens was orange with white markings.

This kitten grew up, became more leery of people, and Victoria and the cat went their separate ways.

Then, about three years ago, the neighbors moved.  They’d trapped and shipped most of those feral, scruffy cats off to a friend with a big farm – but I do believe this one (and maybe a few others) got left behind.  Some new people moved in.  They discovered there were hungry cats around – and being kindhearted toward animals, immediately started feeding them.

Months went by – and we began seeing a big orange cat around.  He took up residence on the far side of our garage.  He found one of Larry’s jackets on a low shelf under a workbench, and made it his home during the cold winter a couple of years ago.  We felt sorry for him.  Victoria fed him.  The neighbors, we learned recently, went on feeding him, too (until they spotted him on our front porch one day, and concluded that he was our kitty).  And, as felines big and little will instinctively do when they don’t feel secure and/or aren’t sure they will have a next meal, he ate... and ate... and ate... and ate.

He followed us around outside every time we were gardening, meowing and ‘talking’ to us in his low-pitched, raspy voice.  We started letting him in the house every once in a while.  Then, a little over a year ago, he discovered he could squish and squirt his bulk through the pet door!  He’s been a house kitty ever since.

He and Teensy periodically have bad words with each other, but they know this makes the lady of the house yell, so whichever one started the fracas immediately scampers for his bed after saying just one bad word.  (Do my cats have consciences?)  😅  (Naaa, they just know I’m liable to throw things, if they don’t behave.)

My word!  An airplane or maybe a helicopter just went very low over our house!  Unusual.  We live out in the sticks where the only planes overhead are jetliners, about seven miles up, or, in the summertime, crop dusters.  I don’t reckon that was a crop duster, in this 4° weather, with the windchill at -10°!

By the time I held my hand on the window long enough to melt the ice so I could see out, the plane or copter or flying saucer or space alien with rocket booster, or whatever it was, was long gone.

Somebody remarked that, where they live, low-flying planes are usually ‘scanning for drugs in a suspected area’.  But around here, a low-flying helicopter is more likely checking the rivers for ice jams.  But that’s probably not the case today.

Hmmm... there’s no alarming news crawl on the Columbus Telegram homepage.  Maybe someone is just getting in their winter flying hours. 

Wednesday, I curled my hair, had a toasted blueberry bagel with lots of butter and some lemon curd on top, and then quilted until time for our evening church service.

A friend remarked, “I hope it doesn’t get too awfully hot up there in your new quilting studio this summer.  You could always have a ‘winter studio’ and a ‘summer studio’. Then you could keep stuff on every floor!  LOL”

I replied, “Yeah!  Reckon Larry would be up for breaking down the quilting frame and hauling frame and big ol’ honkin’ machine (plus little machines) and a heavy table up (or down) two flights of stairs twice a year?”  Then, “Maybe I’ll just turn on the AC.”

My friend hastened to explain, “No, no, I mean two studios, two machines... hence... upstairs and downstairs... twice the fun!”

Ah.  That would be a fine and dandy scenario, except... the HQ16 is going on the market as soon as I get this last quilt done. 

Why am I thinking of ‘Goosey, Goosey, Gander’? 

‘Upstairs and downstairs, in my lady’s chamber...’

No, I’m not planning to take Larry by the left leg and throw him down the stairs.

Loren was glad he had a tractor with a heated cab that day when he had to clear snow off his drive – it was only 6°, with a wind chill of -10°.  And it kept getting colder, throughout the rest of the week.

After church that evening, we had a few friendly conversations with this one and that one.  We were visiting with my sister when Lindsay, one of her great-granddaughters, came to greet us.  This child, whom I believe was just born a couple of weeks ago, heh, has lost both front teeth!  She’s always been really friendly with me, I suspect partly because I remind her of her great-grandma (my sister)... but partly because she lives in a happy house, and her mama and daddy are friendly people... and so are her siblings. 

Her mama Sharon was the one I found on my front lawn at age three, sitting there happily picking clover and dandelions one morning when I stepped out to get the newspaper.  This meant that she had crossed the street to get there, and she wasn’t supposed to do that. 

“Hi!” she greeted me happily.

“Hi,” I returned, setting the paper down and heading out to collect the child.

“I know what your name is,” she informed me, “And I can say it, too!”  She nodded once or twice for emphasis.  “It’s Shar Win!”

Hee hee

“We’d better take you back home!” I told her, taking her hand.  “I don’t think you’re supposed to be here by yourself.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” she said airily, “’Cuz Mom doesn’t know!” 

Her mother had gone to the grocery store, and Kelvin was working in the yard.  He’d gone inside to answer the phone – and Sharon had made her getaway.  Jodie, age 5, had dashed in and told her Daddy.

He was just trotting down the sidewalk, looking worried, when I rounded the corner toward his house.

“Found your wayward puppy,” I said.

“Sharon!” he exclaimed, “You know better than to run off like that!”

“Yes,” she agreed, “But Mom doesn’t know!” 

Haha

After leaving the church, we went to Wal-Mart and got a cartload of fresh vegetables, among other things, as I planned to take trays of sliced vegetables and dip to the family get-together the next day.

Home again, I put everything away, and trotted back downstairs to the quilting machine to work on my customer’s Christmas quilt for a little while.  I’d hoped to get in several hours of quilting, but the basement was cold, cold, cold, even though the wood-burning stove was crackling away, and the big infrared heater was on full blast.  I had on several layers of clothing, and even put on my fold-back mittens and a fleece scarf; but I simply couldn’t get warm.  Plus, I was tired.  I gave up for the night, having only put in three hours of quilting that day. 

I once complained to my father over the necessity of sleeping.  “It’s such a waste of time!” I griped.

Daddy, who knew exactly the right verse for just about everything, immediately told me that was not the right attitude:  “David wrote, ‘He giveth His beloved sleep’!  Sleep is a gift from the Lord!”

Later, I would find what Charles H. Spurgeon, ‘The Prince of Preachers’, that wonderful, godly man who was pastor of the huge Metropolitan Tabernacle in London in the late 1800s, had written on that verse.  This is from ‘The Treasury of David’ by C. H. Spurgeon:

“For so he giveth his beloved sleep.” Through faith the Lord makes his chosen ones to rest in him in happy freedom from care. The text may mean that God gives blessings to his beloved in sleep, even as he gave Solomon the desire of his heart while he slept. The meaning is much the same: those whom the Lord loves are delivered from the fret and fume of life, and take a sweet repose upon the bosom of their Lord. He rests them; blesses them while resting; blesses them more in resting than others in their moiling and toiling. God is sure to give the best thing to his beloved, and we here see that he gives them sleep – that is a laying aside of care, a forgetfulness of need, a quiet leaving of matters with God: this kind of sleep is better than riches and honour. Note how Jesus slept amid the hurly burly of a storm at sea. He knew that he was in his Father’s hands, and therefore he was so quiet in spirit that the billows rocked him to sleep: it would be much oftener the same with us if we were more like HIM.

Sooo... I changed my attitude about sleeping.  I might do it at different hours of the day from some people, but I appreciate it when I do!

Anyway, I got two more decent-sized sections of border done, and started on some of the green sashing of the next row.  Then I ran out of bobbin thread... discovered I didn’t have enough oomph to go wind the bobbin...  (and I was cold)... turned out the lights, and came upstairs.

Thursday afternoon, I got busy with the cutting and slicing of all the fresh vegetables.  I’d gotten a good percentage of every last fresh vegetable I could find, just for the fun of it.  I discovered I do not like raw eggplant.  If you’ve never tried it, but would like to know if you’d like it, just chaw a hunk out of your best kitchen sponge and chew away.  Like it?  Eggplant, bon appétit. 

I had green, red, orange, and yellow bell peppers, summer squash, zucchini, cucumbers, cauliflower, broccoli, celery, carrots, green beans, little tomatoes in every color of the rainbow (have you ever seen dark purple and black cherry tomatoes?!), radishes, asparagus... there were more, but I can’t remember them all.  I did leave the Carolina Reapers at the store.  ha!

(No, the Wal-Mart fresh produce department didn’t have any Carolina Reapers.  They did, however, have Triple Pepper Jack cheese with ghost peppers.  Couldn’t help myself.  Had to get some.  It’s good, and not much hotter than Pepper Jack cheese.  They must’ve tossed in the ghost peppers with a sparing hand.)

Larry came home for lunch, cut and split more wood for the wood-burning stove, and loaded the stove with logs.  Then he came upstairs (the wood-burning stove is in the basement, connected to the furnace) to tell me goodbye – and tracked dirty snow all over the kitchen floor.  He was walking slowly and carefully ‘so as not to get the floor dirty’, he said.  🙄

This method didn’t work quite like it does when his pantlegs are encrusted with cement chunks, and ‘slow and careful’ will (maybe) (he thinks) keep the chunks from falling off onto the floor.  Instead, he wound up liberally coating the floor with snow and mud.  Long, fast steps would’ve been preferable, if one had to choose.

The snow was soon melted, leaving a mud lolly on the kitchen floor.  But I did have a nice fire burning in the wood-burning stove.

And as Larry pointed out just before he escaped out the door and fled back to work, I did have a new mop.

“Yeah, bring it to me,” I requested, waggling an index finger in a ‘come hither’ motion.

He opened his eyes wide.  “Noooooooo!” he said, and out the door he skedaddled.  😆

That evening before we left for Bobby and Hannah’s house for our family get-together, we ordered three pizzas from Valentino’s, for delivery to Hannah’s house.  On our way to town, we dropped off one vegetable tray at Teddy and Amy’s house, since they weren’t coming on account of sick kids.

Those cars that flip and can pop wheelies, which we gave Jacob, age 8, and Levi, age 7, were an absolute, unequivocal, smash hit.  

Hester (on the left; Lydia is on the right) has such a funny sense of humor.  First, to understand why the following is so funny, I must tell you that Hester is a reserved person, not one to be really demonstrative or loud or emotional.  Feelings run deep, but she likes to keep them to herself.  She’s kind and generous and loving – but she does things quietly, behind the scenes.

That being said...

As we were wrapping up our get-together, a couple of families having already departed, I was carrying things out to the Jeep.  I finally put my camera into the bag, picked up purse and camera bag, and headed for the door.  I said to several bystanders, “Now hear this!!!  The camera is leaving the building.  Do not do anything photoworthy from here on out.”

And Hester the reserved, Hester the quiet, Hester who nevah-evah runs around doling out hugs all willy-nilly, immediately cried to all her nearby relatives, “Group hug!!!  Group hug!!!”

Some of the siblings, who know their sister well, and are in fact quite similar in personality, promptly cracked up. 

Caleb and Maria:  ß

The fire in the wood-burning stove went out overnight, so I had to restart it the next morning.  It wasn’t too much trouble, as the wood is good and dry. 

The Schwan man came; my freezer is now restocked.  I’d emptied it out the night before, taking frozen Schwan’s roasts to the kiddos.  That was part of their Christmas present from us.

That afternoon it was a little warmer:  17°, windchill 7°; but the temperature was falling fast.  Snowflakes were starting to come down, but no great accumulation was expected. 

I headed downstairs to the quilting machine.  The basement was cold, even though the wood-burning stove was crackling away.  I put on three sweaters and a scarf, two sets of leggings, and two pairs of thick socks.  And Sherpa-lined suede slippers.  And fold-back mittened gloves.  Gotta quilt!  😃

Hester sent a picture of their kitten, writing, “Spooky would like to thank you for her new favorite toy.”

The cute little calico was playing with the brown cut-work paper with which I’d wrapped their jars of honey, mango/applesauce, etc.

After spending 9 hours quilting, I finished another row on my customer’s Christmas quilt:

More pictures here.

I also uploaded more pictures from our trip to Colorado last month:  Cortez to La Junta, Colorado, Part 1

Cortez to La Junta, Colorado, Part 2

Here’s a ponder:  Why is it that when I open the door to the stove and toss in wood, nothing much happens... but when Larry does it, smoke billows out and permeates the entire house??  I tell him it’s because he likes to play in it – stir up the coals, wiggle the wood, etc.  But sometimes he just throws in a log, and that’s that – and soon the house is all smoky.  ??

Saturday, I was about to head downstairs to the quilting machine when my stomach growled.  I’ve forgotten to eat breakfast!  At the same time, I heard a blueberry bagel calling for me.  How in the world could I have forgotten about the blueberry bagels?!  And the lemon curd?!  Okay, that’s actually not one of my very favorites... but it’s a novelty, and I do like it.  Next time I splurge on jellies or jams, though, I’m getting the Polaner jellies we got for my brother, sister, and mother-in-law – peach, blueberry, cherry...  I wonder if they have any with rhubarb in it?    >... drool ...<

Larry got some wood pellets at Bomgaars when they were on sale after Christmas, and started up the pellet stove.  It’s in the corner of the basement over by the patio door, and it makes a big difference in the temperature down there.  He split some more wood, and replenished the wood-burning stove, too.  So the basement was quite comfortable, and I happily quilted away.

Midafternoon, I cooled myself down (not that I was hot, by any means) with a Tropical Mango smoothie.  Next, I warmed myself back up with Roasted Hazelnut coffee.  This is how to stay ‘well-balanced’!

I finished another row on my customer’s Christmas quilt that day.  There are three rows left, plus the bottom border.  More pictures here.

Below is my speedbump, Teensy:

It was cold, cold, cold, yesterday.  At 2:00 p.m., it was as warm as it got all day:  -4°, with a wind chill of -20°.  We had the wood-burning stove going... the pellet stove going... the furnace... an infrared heater in the living room... and a ceramic heater in the kitchen.  Our next heating bill is going to be astronomical.  This house has so many places where wind comes whistling through.  😟

A friend remarked recently that it’s a good thing cameras are digital now, or I’d be spending a fortune on film.  Yes, indeedy, film and printing charges can get high.  I remember after one vacation many years ago, I {quietly!} tallied up cost of film plus developing – and it was over $300.  !!!!!!  Don’t tell anyone!  Aiiiiyiiiyiiieee.

By the next year, I had a nice little digital Vivitar.  A few months later, with some of the money from my mother’s estate, I got my first digital Canon SLR with a couple of lenses.

The photos I’ve taken pay for my nice cameras many, many times over.

My nephew Kelvin was in an awful lot of pain the last few weeks.  It was determined that it was the stent in the colon causing the trouble, and Sunday morning he had surgery to remove it.  He is still scheduled for colon surgery later this month, after a few more radiation treatments.

We planned to have lunch and exchange gifts today with Teddy, Amy, and family, but the children were still sick, so we’ll reschedule another time.

Instead, Kurt, Victoria, and baby Carolyn came visiting.  Then Larry and Kurt went hunting for a few hours, and Victoria and I entertained each other, and baby Carolyn entertained both of us (when she was awake).

While she slept, we talked quietly, walked softly, and shut doors gently.  Victoria used to be downright smug that her baby slept through just about anything.  Not no mo', no mo', no mo'!  Nowadays, just like all of my babies were, Carrie is a light sleeper.  When we had babies napping in the house, the rest of us crept around quietly.

But ... I remember that Hester and Lydia, our giggleboxes, would invariably get struck unbearably funny at something right when their little brother or sister were napping.  Those girls still tickle each other’s funnybones.  They’re 28 and 26 years old now.

Victoria was delighted to find a couple of her dolls downstairs, and she immediately rushed upstairs to show them to her baby, who further delighted her by grinning at one of them.

Now Kurt and Victoria have headed for home with Baby all snug in her bunting (in this -4° weather – wind chill, -15°), and Larry and I have just finished supper:  turkey pot pie, blueberry yogurt, Strawberry Supreme frozen yogurt (good day for frozen yogurt, don’t you think?), and Christmas sugar cookies from my brother.

No, Kurt and Larry didn’t get a deer.  But Larry likes his new scope.  He got it at Cabela's in Council Bluffs on his way back through there with Jeremy when they went to Grand View, Missouri, on Friday to get Jeremy’s new bucket truck.

A week or so earlier, Jeremy was taking down a very large cottonwood at a farm somewhere.  The farmer had attached a chain from his tractor to the tree, and was to pull it quickly the way they wanted it to fall when Jeremy sawed through it enough.  There was plenty of chain to ensure that the farmer and his tractor would never be in harm’s way.

Jeremy notched the tree and began sawing.  It began falling in the proper direction – then a branch caught another tree and made the falling tree begin to twist and turn in the wrong direction.

Jeremy yelled for the farmer to “Go!!!  Go fast!!!”

The farmer watched the tree as it descended rapidly from the stratosphere... considered... debated with himself... and then, too late and too slowly, began to meander the tractor away from the tree.

CRASSSHHHHHH!!!!!!

The tree landed with a sickening wallop, thud, and smash on Jeremy’s truck, nearly taking the bucket on its extendable arm off entirely.

There really was no fixing it, at least not without costing more than the entire truck was worth, as it was an older, albeit nice, truck. 

Jeremy began looking for another truck – and found the one he wanted in Grand View, Missouri.  So he and Larry went to get it last Friday.

We were sorry that happened to Jeremy’s truck.  He’s such a hard worker, and he’s trying so hard to make a go of his new business – and he’s getting it done, too.  But it’s a fledgling venture, and he’s also been working hard to get his new home completed.

Still... we were very, very thankful that nobody got hurt.  Taking down huge trees can be a dangerous occupation, never mind the fact that he has taken vocational and safety courses, and has the license to prove it.

Guess what we just did?!  ((...huff puff gasp huff puff gasp...))  Did you guess???

We – Larry and I – carried the rest of my desks and machines and chairs and various assortments of tools and whatnot into my new quilting studio upstairs!  That’s up two flights of stairs, and since the basement staircase is curved and narrow at the curve, Larry balanced the desks on his shoulder (one at a time, mind you), hauled them out the basement patio door, around the retaining wall, up a slippery, snowy hill to the front porch, brought them in the front door, and then took them on up the stairs to the second floor.

The things we moved include the Bernina Artista 180E, the Bernina 830 Electronic Record, the Bernina 1300DC serger, the two desks in which resided the 830 and the 1300, and three chairs.  We carried the full drawers separately.  There were other things, such as the small ironing board I use for appliqué work, the two big slotted rulers, the large frame and light that together make up the lightbox Larry constructed for me, an old-fashioned square tin basket full of serger thread, and so forth.  I’ll stop now; guess I don’t need to list every pair of snips and every spool of buttonhole thread.  😉

Larry found his paintbrush and the paint, so he can finish the trim.  Victoria and Kurt looked at the room today (it’s the room that used to be Victoria’s), and she pointed out that not only the plum-colored wall is sparkly, but all the white paint on the trim and the recessed door panels is sparkly, too.  She admired her paint job, and told me how glad she is that she painted it for me.  tee hee

Well, that was too many heavy things, up too many flights of stairs.  I feel quite a lot as though I’ve been run through a wringer backwards.  But... nevertheless... wheeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!  My machines are in the new studio!

Didn’t I get a nice reward for being patient most all of last year, since cleaning out and organdizing (à la Winnie-the-Pooh) the entire upstairs last spring?

A quilting friend wrote to me, “My advice for when you run out of room is to look up.  Those walls aren’t just to hang pictures on.  LOL”

!  They aren’t?!

I’ve hung two pictures so far – that pretty shot on canvas taken at the east entrance of Rocky Mountain National Park that Andrew and Hester gave me for Mother’s Day ... and the quilled ‘quilt’ shadowbox Hannah made for me for my birthday.  They both match that room perfectly.  Larry hung the light catcher Hester and Andrew gave me for my birthday on a window latch.  There is a lot more to hang. 

I see sewing studios with pegboards on the walls ... and I look at mine, and there are mostly nothing but decorations – shelves for pretties, and pictures.  I go for ‘pretty’, which isn’t necessarily ‘useful’.  But... who needs ‘useful’ when there is plenty of drawer space??

Another lady wrote to me, “Sarah Lynn, you are the first person I’ve heard of who went from a huge sewing area to a smaller one BY CHOICE!!!!  I know, I know…the spiral stairs.”

So... let me further explain the state of things here:

First, sometimes ya just gotta choose quality over quantity! 

Downstairs, my main sewing room is 10 ¼’  x 14 ½’.  That’s the only room that’s finished.  Pictures here.  Then I have the marble table in the similar-sized room just across from the sewing room, and sometimes have my Bernina sewing machine on it.  The big marble table is marvelous for such things as sewing bindings on large quilts and whatnot – but it’s a bit high for me, even though I raise my chair as high as it will go.  Actually, any table is too high, when the sewing machine is on it.  Larry has offered to cut a hole in the maple wood table for my machine to fit into.  Maybe one of these days I’ll take him up on it.  Or maybe I’ll wait until I have a newer machine.

The HQ16 on the 14’ (saggy) frame is in the front part of the walkout basement (33’ x 10’, I’d guess), where there is the big window and the patio door.  Larry started working on that area back when I got the HQ16 in 2010, but only got the knotty pine paneling put up and that nice, thick carpeting and pad put down.

So you see, I’ll be really happy to have a finished quilting studio – and to have room for sewing machine, serger, and quilting machine all in one place.

The marble table will now be moved (with great difficulty; that thing is a beast) into the old sewing room downstairs.  The fabric will stay where it is, in bins on shelves downstairs.  The new quilting studio will be so much warmer in the winter.  And it’s lots prettier!  I like ‘pretty’.  Oh, and the new quilting studio isn’t small – it’s about 11’ x 22’.  That 12’ frame does shrink it a bit, though.

Also, those tricky stairs to the basement don’t trouble me much, unless I’m carrying heavy or bulky things up or down.

For those of you who were worrying about me after all that furniture- and equipment-toting up the stairs, I’ve already recovered.  Almost.  😉  I needed some exercise today anyway!  Just hang on a moment whilst I go put on some pain patches... 

I’m fine, and I’ll be even finer after a good night’s sleep.

Well, that was longwinded.  What was the question?

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