Journal: Springtime Drives

Baby Malinda is ten months old now.  She’s crawling everywhere and pulling up and cruising around furniture, and even standing alone for a brief moment or two.

Baby Carolyn isn't far behind, at eight months.  Both baby girls have deep, dark brown eyes.  😍

Last Tuesday morning I heard on the radio that there was another pileup on I80 Monday between Seward and York, about 20 miles from the scene of Sunday’s pileup.  Furthermore, Sunday’s pileup involved 30 vehicles, rather than the first-mentioned number of 20.  Monday’s pileup involved about a dozen vehicles.  Again, it was from dust off newly plowed fields.  Wind speed got up to 65 mph that day.  Several people were injured, with one being taken to a local hospital.

Yesterday, there were three more crashes on I80 in eastern Nebraska not far from the site of the previous pileups, and five people were killed.  It happened when a vehicle crossed the median and crashed into an oncoming car.  Three people who were wearing seatbelts were ejected and killed, and a passenger was also killed.

A couple of hours later, a semi driver failed to notice the vehicles stopped on account of the prior wreck, and slammed into the back of another semi.  His rig caught fire, and he was killed.  He was texting at the time.

An hour and a half after that, an SUV smashed into a semi that was stopped because of the two prior wrecks.  The driver was transported to a hospital.

So many deadly accidents in nearly the same area are quite unusual around here.

That day, we were issued several severe weather advisories.  There were thunder-and-lightning storms, hailstorms, and tornado watches and warnings.  That evening, at least three tornados touched down in the southeastern part of the state.  At the same time, it was snowing in various high elevations of Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, Montana, and Idaho.  Why do those snow reports always make me want to be there?  😏

Look what Hannah made for a friend’s granddaughter:  sweater, hat, drawstring purse... and then she decided a toddler had to have something to put in the purse, so she made a teddy bear... a little pillow and blanket for the bear...

I wrote, “How cute. You can’t stop, can you?!”

A friend joined in:  “The bear needs a purse, with a tinier bear in it.... ”

“There’s no end, there’s no end!” I added.  “Somebody put a guvner on her!”

hee hee

Somebody asked me the other day, “Did your pastor give Loren and Norma any pre-nuptial counseling?  Inquiring minds want to know.”

I replied rather curtly, “No, pre-nuptial counseling wasn’t necessary.”

She responded, “Really?  No counseling needed?  Who’da thunk!  LOL!”

Was she kidding?  I decided to let it go.

But when I was still thinking about it an hour and a half later, I changed my mind and answered her: 

Neither do the young couples who are planning to get married have ‘pre-nuptial counseling’.  They’ve grown up in the church, learned right and wrong all their lives; if they don’t know how to treat a mate by then, they have no business getting married.

In the 60 years that have gone by since my father started our church, we have had... hmmm... 9?  10? divorces amongst our members.  And almost a hundred marriages.  How’s that for proving my point?

People ought to try a little less ‘pre-nuptial counseling’ and a little more godly living, if they’d like to have a happy marriage, that’s the truth of the matter.  A little more willingness to do all one can for the other... a little less self-centeredness... complete love and commitment ---- and a common desire to please the Lord.  A simple formula, but not many are willing to go that route.

And whataya know, the lady answered, “Well said, lady!  Back when I got married, we had never even heard of pre-nuptial or marriage counseling.  Of course, that was before child psychologists, too.”

Yeah, ‘child psychologists’.  Look around and tell me how well that is working out.  The breakdown of the family and rampant godlessness across this land is ruining the backbone of our once-great country!  And those behind the pulpits rarely complain.  Someday they’ll pay for their inaction.

Okay, now let’s talk about birds.  Baltimore orioles, specifically.  They have been enjoying our suet feeder lately, and they perch in the sugar maple and sing their hearts out.  Orioles are loud.  Good thing they’re melodious!

This one is the male. Sometimes males are more orange, sometimes more yellow.  (This is the same bird, only with different lighting.) 

Aren’t they brilliant? I’ve always thought the Lord had a wonderful time, when He created the birds.

Here’s what the female looks like:  ß

That male oriole was looking right at me as I was taking pictures.  I was mostly hidden behind a curtain, but my long lens was sticking through it.  It seems that the bigger the bird, the more quickly they spy me, and the more leery they are of that big lens pointing their way.  Sometimes I have to stay there and hold bolt still for a long time (that’s about five minutes, on my timeclock, heh) before I can get a shot of such birds as grackles or blue jays.

Tuesday as I worked on my friend’s baby quilt, I listened to NOAA weather radio on my laptop.  Upon hearing that there was a tornado about 80 miles to our east, and seeing that it looked quite stormy out my windows with approaching storms from the west, I wrote a note to Larry:  “Could you bring home a surge protector for my quilting machine?” and then, taking advantage of the occasion, “And an extension cord for my iron?”

He did, and plugged it all in for me, too.

As it turned out, all the storms just missed us.  From my upstairs window, I could see the rain hitting Columbus, 7 miles to the east.  But we barely got a sprinkle. 

I finished the Dolly Jean baby quilt late that night.  More pictures are here.

Wednesday, a severe thunderstorm, complete with hail, skated past us on the north, traveling toward the northeast.  More was headed our way from the west.

Meanwhile, would you believe, there was snow in the mountains of Arizona?!

Soon, soon, I must get busy on my flowerbeds.  I don’t want to neglect them like I did last year!  I always plan to separate and spread my peonies here and there around the yard ---- but it seems that I’m always swamped with stuff to do, and by the time I get out there to those peony bushes, they’re two feet tall!

I never got around to putting together a book of the patterns for the Buoyant Blossoms quilt, either.  Need to do that.

Plus, my eyes are steadily getting worse... and my back hurts.  Rheumatoid arthritis is a pain.  Ha!

So... I keep saying ‘yes’ to everyone who asks for quilting... but one of these days (soon!) I’m going to say ‘no more, no more, sorry!’

Sigghhhhh...  I need me a clone.

That day, I quilted an Americana quilt for a customer.  It was throw-sized, 41” x 57”, so it went fairly quickly.  I had it loaded on the frame, pantograph printed and taped into place, machine threaded and ready to go, by midafternoon.  I got a row or two quilted before our evening church service, and finished it when we got home.  More photos here.

Then I printed an invoice and label and packed the quilt in a box, ready to mail the next day.  I was going to take Hannah to her doctor’s appointment in Lincoln the next morning, so I needed to sleep fast.

I scurried for the feathers,­ but I couldn’t sleep.  Larry snored now and then, but quietly; it shouldn’t have been a bother.  Nevertheless, it sure kept me from sleeping.  Then my ankle itched.  Then the back of my neck itched.  Then my arm itched.  Then my back itched.  Murphy’s Law proclaims that when an itch that occurs, it will always be in that particular location that is the most difficult to reach.

Next, Larry’s cell phone, which is on its very last leg, turned its flashlight app on, brightly illuminating the entire room.  Evidently deciding there was nothing to see, it went back off again (with a few undecided blinks) after half a minute or so.  (Larry slept peacefully on.)

My toes hurt.  My ankles hurt.  The sleeve on my nightgown was somehow twisted around a couple of dozen times, and my pillow kept shooting out from under my head.

At a quarter after six, fifteen minutes before my alarm was set to go off, I got up, having alllmost fallen asleep two or three times.  Almost, not quite.  I was afraid I’d be sleepy while driving, but I was fine.  Our sparkling chatter kept me alert, evidently!

At the ENT office, they removed all the packing left in Hannah’s sinus passageways from last week’s surgery – a more invasive process than you’d think.  She had more than just a cotton ball in her nose, believe me!  The process was a bit painful, and we’d already had a long walk from parking garage into the office, and had gone up a flight of stairs (since we hadn’t parked high enough in the parking garage); and Hannah was out of breath when we got to the office.  After all that packing was removed, she felt quite dizzy, and was glad I was driving.

On our way back to the car, we found an elevator.  By the time we got to the car, she was already breathing easier, and her voice sounded more like Hannah than it has for a couple of years.

By then, it was almost noon, so I looked on my tablet for a restaurant.  Hannah wanted something spicy, because her sense of taste hasn’t come back yet, though it’s improving.  I spotted Tico’s Mexican Restaurant, tapped ‘start directions’, and let my tablet guide us there.

Lo and behold, it was a lovely family restaurant where they seat you and serve you, bring you spicy chips and salsa as an appetizer, and fill your glass of iced-tea every time it gets halfway down. 

Hannah ordered a spicy chicken dish, and I got a baby spinach salad with croutons, cottage cheese, eggs, and sliced mushrooms, with poppyseed dressing.  Mmmm, yummy.  I’m usually not too fond of mushrooms (the other word for them is ‘toadstools’, after all!)... but I have to say, those in my salad that day were good.  And I’ve never liked cooked spinach – except for a mashed potato/spinach casserole I’ve made, flavored with milk and lots of butter and dill weed, of all things — but I like fresh baby spinach leaves just fine.  Every one of the kids (and Larry) loved that mashed potato/spinach casserole.  I should make it again one of these days.

I just looked up ‘sliced portabello mushrooms’, and I see that those are probably the kind that were in my salad.

I’m not used to eating that sort of stuff at that time of day, but just about the time I told Hannah, “I’m really not hungry, and this is the wrong time of day for me to eat this,” my stomach took a notion to growl ferociously, after which I was suddenly ravenous.

Hannah remarked during our lunch how nice it was to be able to eat and breathe at the same time.  “I don’t have to smack like a rude little kid!” she said. 

By the time we left the restaurant, her voice sounded better than ever.  I sure hope this will make a big difference for her, healthwise.

On our way home, we went through a pouring rainstorm.  The rain was coming down in sheets.  But my Jeep is like a sure-footed little burro, and I didn’t have any trouble driving at all.  I just slowed down a bit to accommodate the short visibility.  It’s almost a two-hour drive, made a little longer since we took a ‘scenic route’ home.  Pictures here.

After taking Hannah home, I went to the post office and mailed a customer’s quilt.  I couldn’t manage an umbrella and a big box at the same time, so I just grabbed the box and ran for it.  As I had hairspray on my hair, I soon had a motorcycle helmet for a hairdo.

I went to Hobby Lobby after that for batting for my customer’s next quilt.  This time, I managed to make use of the umbrella.  Using umbrellas in Nebraska is always something of a gamble, on account of the never-ceasing winds.  Many’s the time I’ve wound up with an upside-down teepee instead of an umbrella, when the wind blew the ’brella wrong side out!  😃

Finally I was home, sipping coffee and reading email.  Should I start on my customer’s quilt, or should I take a nap?  Hmmm...

I headed upstairs to my quilting studio.  I trotted up and down the stairs at least four times, carrying this and that (laptop, keyboard, mouse, coffee mug, coffee thermos, batting, craft/computer glasses) — and the cats ran with me, each and every time.  When I finally got everything where I wanted it, Tiger clambered into his Thermabed, and Teensy sprawled on the rug right beside me (after leaping up into my lap two or three times and demanding to be petted).  They must’ve missed me!

A friend told about trying to help the young Japanese girl who lives with her learn English better.  Her story of trying to explain what the term ‘dirty words’ means without actually swearing reminded me of when Keith, our oldest, was in Kindergarten. 

He came home a bit wide-eyed one day and told me, “We had to learn a bad word at school today, but I didn’t say it!”

A bad word? I wondered.  “Can you spell it for me?” I asked him.

He nodded solemnly, then leaned forward and whispered, “G.”

That was it.  “G.”

He looked at me a moment (and I tried valiantly to keep a straight face).  Then he announced further, “I only said it when it made the ‘guh’ (hard g) sound.”  😆

Loren called that evening.  He and Norma had gone through Denver, headed south through Colorado Springs to Trinidad, Colorado, and looked at family graves.  It’s a pretty cemetery there.  Now they were in Garden City, Kansas – and they thought it was Wednesday, rather than Thursday. 

I told them, “You crossed into another Time Zone, just one hour earlier; you didn’t cross the International Date Line.”  They were laughing...  “That’s a sure sign you’re having fun, when you think it’s one day earlier than it really is,” I said.

Loren was pleased that they’d spent only $94 on campgrounds since Saturday.  The camper and pickup were working great, and Loren said Norma fixes good food.  😊 😋

I told him I’d learned that fact when I was 13 years old and had supper with the Jacksons for the first time. 

“We still like each other!” he told me.  Norma was laughing...  and I said that since I like both of them, I’m happy as can be that they like each other!

He said, “I thought I’d gotten to know Norma last week, but I’ve gotten to know her a whole lot more, this week!”

“It’s a crash course!” I agreed.

“And I like her even more, since I’ve gotten to know her better,” my brother added.

Norma has always loved the mountains, and has missed seeing them the last few years.  Loren loves the mountains, too. 

I got my customer’s quilt loaded and ready to be quilted that night.  I didn’t start, though; I was too tired.  Napping at the quilting machine/sewing machine/iron is inadvisable.  Why, I once fell asleep whilst quilting, and went right out through the window into the adjoining garage and quilted right over the top of the Jeep hood before I woke up again!

It’s always nice to get up the next morning... and then, when a few things are out of the way (bath, shampoo, a wee bit of house-neatening, bird-feeder filling, and houseplant watering), trot up to the sewing studio and find everything ready to go.  All I had to do was turn on the machine and launch in.

Keira weighed in at 2 pounds, 10 ounces, that evening.  She was given some medicine a couple of days earlier that helped get rid of excess fluid, so she lost a little weight but gained it right back.  The doctor says she’s doing very well for her age.  They are giving her something to build up her red blood cell count (a blood test takes the count down), along with the medication to prevent excess fluid.  At this age and size, excess fluid ends up in the lungs.  She’s doing really well with her feedings.

Hester’s doctors took her off her blood pressure meds and said her incision is finally looking good, so she didn’t need another checkup for a week. 

Some quilting friends were telling various stories about shopping, and, in particular, episodes with shopping carts.

“I have a shopping cart story, too,” I wrote.  (raising hand)

It was at our Wal-Mart Supercenter, and I needed grocery items and household items both.  There’s always a debate:  should you get the household items first, so cold things don’t get warm and go sour whilst you’re a-shopping, or should you get grocery items first, so you don’t wind up with dripping honey, perspiring milk, and leaking orange juice atop fabric or clothing items?

One of the things I needed was a full-length mirror.  I decided to get it first, so I would have a better chance of fitting it into the cart.  I stuck it in diagonally, mirrored side facing outwards, and rushed off to the next things on my list.  I don’t travel slowly through the aisles, though I do try not to run down li’l ol’ ladies and small children.

I try.

As I went along, I kept meeting up with a large, scowling woman who seemed bent on getting in front of me, no matter which way I was heading.  Why do people who are obviously moving at a slower velocity believe they just must get in front of someone who is trundling along at a good fast clip?  Furthermore, they then stall out and clog the aisle, parking dead center and refusing to move.   

And my Mama taught me that it’s not nice to purposely plow into people.  (“But Mama!”)

I grabbed a few more household necessities, and hurried over to the grocery side of the store.

Three aisles later, I met up with the aforementioned glowering tower of a woman.  She was exiting an aisle as I was walking past, and once again, she appeared determined to crash right into me, if I didn’t stop and let her go first.

BUT!!! – this time, she was on the side of my cart that had the mirrored side of that long mirror facing outwards.

As she came blundering rapidly forward, intent on cutting me off at the pass, she suddenly caught sight of another rude, fast-moving woman and cart, heading straight at her!  She gasped and came skidding to a halt, feet slipping and sliding as she whipped her cart to the side to avoid a collision ---- with herself.

Yep, it was her own reflection that startled her so.

I put my nose in the air, held my chin high, and went mincing past in as dignified a mien as I could muster, considering what a chore I was having, trying to keep from laughing.

But the fun and games didn’t end there.

As I entered the baking goods aisle, a cute little Mexican boy spied himself in the mirror.  He kicked into gear and came trotting pell-mell alongside me, peering into the mirror and making one funny face after another, the entire length of the aisle.  Totally uninhibited, he was.

I didn’t even try not to laugh.

Friday afternoon, Hester sent a picture of Baby Keira sucking on a pacifier for the first time.  This is good, for it means that her sucking reflex is in gear.  And just look how hard she’s working at it – those little fingers and toes are showing the effort.

That afternoon was the marriage of my great-nephew Daniel to Dorothy, Jeremy’s younger sister, who lost her husband in a construction accident three years ago.  The wedding was streamed online, so I cranked up the volume on my laptop and watched and listened as I quilted.

Dorothy’s three little boys were ringbearers, and there were three little flowergirls, too.  The youngest boy, Caleb, age 3, cute as can be, was sidewinding as he came down the aisle, because he spotted a few friendly faces in the pews he was passing, and had to smile at them.

You ever notice that these days when people say, “It was a beautiful wedding,” they’re talking about clothes and food?  Well, when I say, “It was a beautiful wedding,” I’m talking about the Scriptures and the music.  Robert’s message was from the story of Ruth, in the Old Testament.  So very fitting, and so touching.

Three little boys now have a good father.

That night, I finished quilting my customer’s Grand Illusion quilt, a Bonnie Hunter design.  More pictures here.

Saturday afternoon, we went to Omaha to see Andrew, Hester, and Baby Keira.  This is the view from our front porch as we were leaving the house.

The nurse was just finishing giving Keira a feeding (through her feeding tube) when we got there.  They had her lying on her back, and that makes her work a little harder to breathe, and a couple of times her oxygen level got into the 70s, which makes the machine chime; but the levels came right back up again without the nurse doing anything, which means the baby is doing it on her own.  So that’s encouraging. 

They keep track of her body temperature, the temperature in the incubator, humidity, respiration, heart rate, oxygen levels, blood sugars, and blood pressure at all times.  If any of those fall below or rise above accepted levels, the machine chimes, both in the room and at the nurses’ center.  If a baby in any of the 40+ NICU rooms codes, a message immediate shows up on every monitor in every single room.  If by some odd chance all the nurses are occupied and don’t notice the alarm, certainly one of the parents will.  The technology is truly amazing.  Each NICU nurse cares for no more than two babies at a time at this beautiful hospital.  So not much happens with any of these tiny babies that can escape attention.

Before we all left the hospital, the nurse turned the baby onto her side, and that allows her to breathe easier.  Her oxygen level went right up to 99%, though of course it fluctuates a bit.

Andrew and Hester told us that Baby Keira’s vitals stay steadier when one or the other – and especially both of them at the same time – are in her room with her, even when they are not holding her.  They get to hold her a few times each day, for an hour or so at a time.  She is calmest with Hester, but she definitely responds to her Daddy, too.  The lighting and noise levels are kept very low, so as not to overstimulate the baby.  When a tiny baby is in stress, even a mother’s quiet singing can elevate baby’s distress, imagine that.

But the medical world has known for many years that a premature or ill baby is much more likely to recover and survive, if the parents hold that baby often.  Love, that binding cord between parent and child, is an amazing thing, is it not?

The sky was fascinating that day, everywhere we looked.

Leaving the hospital, we went shopping at Scheel’s Sports Center – a necessity, since one of the kids had given Larry a gift certificate to that store.  He chose a box of bullets and a set with a small tripod and a side window mount for his spotting scope.  We grabbed a couple of bottles of fruit-flavored iced tea, and that used up all but 8¢ on the gift card.

After exiting Scheels, we proceeded on to the Cracker Barrel Restaurant in Council Bluffs, using up another gift certificate from another one of the kids.  I got a couple of presents – sets of nautical magnets – in the gift shop for a couple of grandsons who will be having birthdays soon.

On our way home, as we drove through West Omaha heading west, it was lightninginginging (never know when to stop, with that word) like crazy up ahead – wild, wild lightning that seemed to come down from above, go sideways one way and then another, and once, even snap upwards from the ground.  However, by the time we got to North Bend, about 43 miles to the west, we could see lots of bright stars in the sky.  More pictures here.

Larry has been caring for our neighbors’ goats and chickens while they are gone.  When he went up there to take care of them yesterday, I asked him to take pictures of the goats.  He sent me this picture of the billy goat, with a subject line reading, “I got your goat 😁.”

It was lovely out, with temperatures in the low 80s, birds singing like anything, and a soft breeze blowing.  All sunshiny and pretty.  Things are turning green, with leaves opening on the trees.

We drove by Loren’s house last night after church, and saw that Loren and Norma have gotten home.  Larry wanted to stop, but there were no lights on.  They were probably already asleep, tired after their drive.

When I wrote about their wedding last week, I forgot to mention that Robert started by turning on his large computer screen and playing a song – Leaning on the Everlasting Arms – that the schoolchildren sang especially for Loren and Norma that morning in chapel.  We have well over 100 children (maybe 120?) in our school, and boy oh boy, did they ever sing.

“They love to sing for such a worthy cause!” Robert said with a laugh.  He’d told them all about the wedding he would be conducting that afternoon – and of course all the children know Loren and Norma, and everyone is happy for them ----- so believe me when I say they sang with gusto.  😊

While I wait for one more customer quilt to arrive before working on a few of my own projects, in addition to clearing flowerbeds, I think I’ll make a couple of fabric origami satin pillows for my sister, whose birthday is approaching.  I have a book called Shadowfolds that has a whole lot of amazingly beautiful designs that I’ve been wishing to try.

One of my quilting friends wrote, “That sporting goods store is fascinating.  I have a gift card to a local sporting goods store for $500.  It was from a banquet, and I won the top door prize.  I have looked and didn’t find a thing to buy.  Wish I could convert it to a quilt store gift card.  There is a Ferris wheel inside?  HOW FUN!!!”

I responded, “Oooooo... doesn’t your sporting goods store have candles?  Cast iron pots or muffin pans?  Soup mixes?  Flavorings and rubs for meat?  Grills and tools and racks?  Jellies and jams?  Home décor?  Socks?  Snuggly pjs or sweaters?  Hiking shoes?  Binoculars?  Thermoses?  Dishes?  Sheets?  Blankets?

“If your store had a Ferris wheel like this one does, you could just go round ’n round ’n round ’n round until you used the $500 all up!  >>snerk<< ”

Yesirree, there are so many lovely things in our sporting goods stores (including Bass Pro Shop and Cabela’s), if I had a $500 gift certificate, I’d not have the dilemma of ‘nothing to buy’, but rather, ‘so much to buy, I must work through a long process of elimination’!  😃

Maybe I’d get all camping-rabid and buy tenting/camping supplies, and then the first night out with my sleeping bag directly atop a large tree root (I used to accuse Larry of purposely finding those things, especially for me), I’d wonder what on earth was wrong with me.  hee hee

I like sporting goods stores.

We saw a rack of hand-tooled leather purses, wallets, clutches, and belts.  When Larry and I were dating, I made him a tooled leather belt.  I used a friend’s leather-punch tools, and put a scene on it with rolling hills, trees, cows, and calves.  In the middle, I put Larry’s name in a large, fancy Edwardian script.

Trouble was, his belt loop partially covered one letter.  My father (who really liked Larry, and who, further, was proud of me for making that belt) pointed it out, and decided that it surely must say ‘Lard’.  Thereafter, Daddy called him ‘Larry Lard’ every time it seemed appropriate to him.

Larry still laughs about that.

I love to hear the birds singing. That just might be my favorite part of springtime.  They’re certainly warbling away today.

I mailed my customer’s quilt to her this afternoon.  I’d load my Americana Eagle quilt on my frame now, but I want to take my time with it and really do some dense custom quilting on it – and a customer is planning to send a quilt to me soon that she is making for a friend who has ovarian cancer and probably won’t live long.  So I will keep my frame clear for her.  I have other things I can do in the meantime.

Baby Keira is three weeks old today, and she’s up to 2 pounds 11 ounces, and they’ve taken her off the respirator!  Hester posted this picture of her with a little doll in her arm – and that must be one teensy, weensy doll, to look so itty bitty next to that tiny little baby.

Amazing they can survive when they’re so tiny, isn’t it?  We’ve heard so many encouraging stories from so many people... and if a tiny baby could survive some years ago, then a tiny baby has even more chance of surviving now, with so many technological and medical advances.  Still, it’s scary.  Sweet little baby... so much potential... yet so entirely dependent.  We keep praying! 

And now I shall rummage up some satin, and see if I can work some fabric origami magic of some sort.  If I wad up a piece of fabric and tell you it’s a rose, will you then believe it is, in fact, a rose?

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