Last Monday night, I
headed downstairs to get something – and found not one, but two bats swooping around down there.
Larry was soon no
longer sleeping in the tub. And that’s
perfectly good grammar, it is.
He always makes fun
of me for saying that the bats divebomb me, aiming straight at my head.
I think he’ll stop
doing that now.
When he tried to
get to the tennis racket that was lying on a dresser down there, both bats made
multiple diving passes at his head.
This, he did not like. So he
grabbed a handful of paper packing out of a box and rattled it madly, skywards.
The bats
discontinued the divebombing raids, fluttering about in the far corners of the
basement and watching him warily.
He got to the
racket... and by then was in no mood to tap them lightly and then release them
outdoors.
The bats, seeing
that he’d put that rattly paper down, resumed swooping at his head.
And the bats met
their demise.
Don’t spend any of
your valuable time telling me how wonderful and necessary and important and
beneficial and indispensable and worthwhile bats are; I already know this. Yes, yes, I know they can eat 1,000 mosquitoes an hour.
I value the bats. They evidently don’t adequately value themselves, however, or they wouldn’t
invade my house, and then have the audacity to dive at our heads!
And no, we didn’t
get bitten or scratched, and the bats didn’t act like they had rabies.
Tuesday, Loren and Norma’s wedding album arrived! That was three days earlier than expected. It’s a beautiful book – but it had a rough
shipment, and three corners were damaged.
I
debated what to do about it. The book
came all the way from Maryland. The
packaging looked sturdy, but the
corners of the heavy-duty box the book came in where crushed. If I complained and asked for a new book, it
could very likely happen again. And I
wanted to take that book to Loren and Norma right
then!
So
I carefully straightened out those corners, doing my best to press the wrinkles
out of them with my fingers. This worked
surprisingly well, and the book looked considerably better. All in all, it was a wonderful book.
I
picked up my phone, called them, told them I had something for them, and asked
if I could bring it.
I
could. And so I did.
We
sipped coffee together while we looked at the book, and I acted a lot like my
mother used to do when our kids were little and sitting around her table: I kept moving everyone’s cup back, farther,
farther, farther, away from that book. 😄
They
were very pleased with their wedding album. I’ve posted pictures of all the pages on my
poetry blog:
They really liked
the back cover. ß
Norma had tried to
get pictures of the prairie dogs at the Kansas State Park where they stayed one
night, but she didn’t have a big enough lens, and those little doggies were
quite shy and temperamental about having their pitchoos (à la grandson
Nathanael, age 3) done tooken.
Home again, I was
barely quilting for an hour when the needle fell out of the Avanté (again – it had happened a number of
times before, while quilting through the appliqué of the eagle, using a size 20
needle), only this time it broke, and the tip wedged itself tightly into the
bobbin race. I couldn’t get it out. I couldn’t budge it. I removed the
needle plate and tried to get it out, to no avail.
When Larry got home
from work, he took apart the bobbin race, removed the piece of broken needle,
and then had to retime the machine.
In the end, this
turned out to be a good thing,
because he got the timing set better than the tech had done, several months
ago. It’s quilting quieter and with
better stitches (and with a smaller, size 18 needle) than ever. I’d put in a larger needle, as it had skipped
a few stitches; but I don’t like those size 20s, because they’re harder on the fabric. Plus, that was when the troubles began with
the needle falling out. Partly, it was
because there are areas in the appliqué work of the eagle quilt where there are
multiple layers of fabric, and the needle had a harder time not only going into
the fabric, but also coming back out of the fabric. And for some reason, I can’t get the needle
screw as tight with the bigger needles.
It wasn’t long
before I was back in business. However,
there was a backlash now and then, and every once in a while the thread broke –
seemed like the needle itself cut the thread.
Maybe it’s adjusted a wee bit too close?
I should try a size 16 needle, just for kicks. I think I have one left.
Anyway, for the
most part, it’s working wonderfully now. But I only got six hours of quilting in, so I
didn’t get the eagle quilt done.
Remember the woman – let’s call her ‘Jane’ – who sent
me a Facebook message saying, “Please post” (what she wanted me to post,
unclear)? And later, under a picture of
the rag rug I made, she wrote, “How too [sic] would help”?
Well, she must not have been having enough
excitement in her life lately, because she created a ‘Group Conversation’ on
Facebook – with every last person in her
Friends list.
Now, those 200+/- people in her Friends list don’t
seem to be people she actually knows;
she’s just collected them, as she did me, from various Facebook groups. When she posts something (almost always a
‘shared’ post) on her Timeline, nary a soul makes a solitary comment.
But suddenly all 200 individuals are in a group
conversation.
This, they did not appreciate. They did not like it at all. In fact, they were
downright hostile over the matter.
They began fussing and fuming to get out of said group conversation, but most
evidently didn’t know how. (I know how,
but if I got out, then I wouldn’t be
able to see all the turmoil, uproar, and mayhem.) (I don’t watch TV, after all.)
All morning long, the wailings of the entrapped
could be heard (or read, as it were):
“Please remove me from this group.
Thank you.” (That was one of the
more polite ones.) “Take me out of the
group NOW, and never add me back in again!”
“I want out.” “So do I.” “I demand to be let out RIGHT THIS
MINUTE!” (That one probably had himself
a coronary and thus got out by default.)
“You haven’t removed me. Please
remove me now.” “PLEASE REMOVE ME
TYSVM!!!” (Thank You So Very Much) “I
don’t have time for this!” “I need you
to take me out of this group!” Several
requests were made in other languages (Portuguese, Spanish, Russian), with no
better results than when they were in English.
After the first half dozen requests, Jane the Group
Creator chose one particular person to whom to respond: “Yes Of course I will. Did I offend you I
apologize.”
But she didn’t remove a soul. Doesn’t know how, most likely.
Next, one of the aforementioned souls randomly chose
another (let’s call her Bambi, since she has large, wondering eyes, long lashes,
and cloven hooves) (well, maybe not that last part; but she does chew the cud) to accuse of creating
the group (possibly because Jane had shared so many of Bambi’s posts, thereby
confusing the issue). This, as you might
expect, got Bambi all riled up, and she set about greatly protesting her
innocence in the matter.
Just to prove she hadn’t done it, Bambi changed the
Group Conversation name from “Jane’s Posts Have Been Liked 50 Times!” (really!
– that’s what Jane originally named it) to “SPAM DO NOT JOIN”.
This got the fellow groupies in more of a frenzy
than ever, fruitlessly batting their wings against the sides of the cage and shrieking,
“Let me out!” “Let me out!” “Let me out!”
Several found the exit and departed, evidently
leaving the door open wide enough that a couple dozen more soon followed.
Jane then created a Facebook Messenger ‘Plan’, and a
notice was sent to all remaining members that they would receive ‘reminders’
five minutes before every event on the schedule.
Those remaining members set up a howl. A number of them escaped.
Bambi was once again accused of committing the
dastardly deed, and once again proclaimed (LOUDLY, all in caps) her innocence,
multiple times.
The purpose of the ‘Plan’, or what Jane was
‘Scheduling’, was never made clear. Maybe
she wanted everybody to take her out to a restaurant, and the Plan was to
remind them to pay the tab? Or maybe she
wanted to put everyone on a Schedule, so no one would talk out of turn?
Jane then went into a flurry of removing the group
photo and putting it back on. The same
photo. Over and over she did this – with
a picture of herself, looking grim and forbidding ------ only from the nose up,
and with the camera at a low angle, aimed right up toward that nose. I very badly wanted to change the name of the
group to “Kilroy Was Here”, and add the profile pic to go with it – but
Facebook tells everyone exactly who
changes names on a Group Conversation.
So I remained silent.
And then things got even more exciting.
I received a private message from Jane herself:
Having been your
supportive friend I was shocked to read your scalding rebuke saying my new and
first time forming of a quilting craft orientated group was Spam!Why ?Would you
do that. My name is [Jane With No Last Name] who at 73 yrs of age, Grandmother,
Mother active member of our community. Desiring to set up a group of likeminded
artist to share and support one another to maintain the craftsmanship of our
multicultural community. You would label me as spam and ask people not to join
this group. Your insult has hurt me deeply. I thought so highly of you.
(I changed her name in the above paragraph.) Then she sent me a thumbs-up sticker
(probably by accident), and a couple of pictures of herself, this time with a
Facebook flower frame. The same shot,
from the nose up. Cute. 🤓🙄
I wonder why she considers herself my ‘supportive
friend’? We don’t know each other from
Adam. (Or Eve, for that matter.) Have never conversed.
A while later, I decided to answer her. “Comfort the feeble-minded,” wrote Paul,
after all.
You have addressed
your remarks to the wrong person. I did not write anything to you. However, you might like to know that what you
started was not a ‘group’, but a ‘conversation’, and you put people in it
without their consent. That’s why there
were so many complaints. But as I said,
I did not write anything at all. There
is information on how to use Facebook, including starting conversations,
groups, and issuing invitations. It’s
best to study this information before attempting to create a group, a
conversation, a chat, or suchlike, when you don’t understand the fundamentals. People never like to be added to any group
against their wills. Best to send
invitations.
Then
one more note:
Just to clarify: you
created a ‘group conversation’.
Five
days later, she sent me a ‘Thank-You’ sticker.
But Messenger shows that she read only that last note, not the first
one.
Today
she sent me a warning... but it’s a hoax.
This
time I’ll go by Jesus’ words in Matthew 15:14:
“Let them alone: they be blind
leaders of the blind. And if the blind
lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch.”
I’m
willing to stitch in the ditch, but
not to fall into the ditch.
Wednesday
afternoon in a note to an online quilting group, I said that I planned to get
the binding put on the Americana Eagle quilt later that night after our church
service.
A friend from the
‘Bible Belt’ down south responded, “Sarah Lynn, just to show you how my crazy mind
works --- when you said you hope to put the binding on after church tonight, it
reminded me of when I was growing up, in the early days of the show Bonanza. Pastors used to make frequent references to
their people wanting to rush home after Sunday night service so they could
watch Bonanza. LOL! I haven’t
thought about that in decades! It didn’t refer to us, though. We
rode the bus (didn’t have a car back then). So, by the time we got home
from church, Bonanza was already off.”
“Haha!” I answered,
“You think putting binding on a quilt, and this ‘Bonanza’ show (never watched
it... never had TV) are alike? I hope
applying binding is infinitely more worthwhile. hee hee”
“I think it’s the thought processes that are alike,”
she explained, “thinking, during the sermon, about rushing home to do something
you really enjoy.” Then she added, “Question
– how did you ever get through all these years with no TV? I guess you never knew Hoss, eh?”
Now, that got me started, and, once started,
I had a hard time getting stopped.
I cannot imagine
ever having time to watch TV. There are things to do, people to see,
places to go – and a short time to get there!
I never missed it
when I was little, because one never misses what one never had in the first
place. Besides, I loved school... I loved my homework... and I worked
hard at it. I learned to sew when I was 7 or 8, and really got into it
with a passion when I was 11. And every possible chance I got, I was
outside playing baseball, Frisbee, badminton, riding my bike, roller skating...
When I was 12, I
got a dog, a German Shepherd/collie mix. I industriously taught her
everything I could think of. She was my ‘push-button’
dog – she did everything I wanted her to do, instantly, like magic, and she
loved me as much as I loved her. That dog would do anything for me.
When I was 16, I
got a job in the Word Processing Center at Nebraska Public Power District
through my Business Administrations class at school. I loved that job,
and had it until shortly before our oldest was born.
I got married at
age 18. Soon we were adding to our family.
I sewed most all
our clothes. We went for a walk or bike ride every day, unless the
weather was bad. I read to the children every day. We sang.
We practiced piano, organ, violin, cello, trombone, and saxophone
together. We often traveled with Larry on business. There was
school and homework. Housework. Cooking, baking, gardening. I
sold Avon. There were journals to write. The children had pen pals
around the globe, and I helped them write. For a while, I had a young
people’s Bible study once a week. I had Jr. Choir once a week. We
had practice on Saturday nights for our special music on Sunday, and I was the
pianist. Sometimes I was soloist, or
altoist in various groups. I arranged and played piano for our Christmas
programs, and wrote some of the poetry the children recited. I took
pictures for fun – and I took the children’s baby pictures, and senior
pictures. More recently, I have made photo/music DVDs for our friends.
And now I
quilt. And take pictures. And cook and clean house
(sometimes). And have flower gardens (that masquerade as weed gardens).
So I ask you, when
did I ever have time to watch TV?? And nope, I never knew (and still
don’t know) Hoss. Don’t even know if it’s man or beast. I was once
totally astonished to discover that ‘Mr. Ed’ was a horse, and I was really, really
glad I hadn’t made any inane remarks and clued my fellow classmates into my
grave lack of knowledge.
And now, having
said all that, I will say that I do watch a youtube video now and then. I
learned a lot about how to use my quilting machine, watching youtube. I
learned silk ribbon embroidery from The Crafty Attic on youtube.
One can even virtually attend the AQS Quilt Shows via youtube. You can
drive over the Swiss Alps, and go hiking in the Himalayas.
AND you can watch
Russian car crashes. Where would we be without youtube videos of Russian
car crashes!! A couple of days ago, I saw a youtube clip of a Smoky Bear
balloon crashing into a 700-foot-high radio tower – and there were a couple of
children in the basket, in addition to the pilot. They made it, by
climbing down that tower. Or at least a good deal of the way down.
The ten-year-old boy was nearly out of strength, scared and crying, when a
climber from the ground reached him, tethered him so he couldn’t fall, and then
helped him down to the 100-foot level, where they stepped onto a crane, and
were lowered to the ground. The father, down on the ground, was nearly
beside himself throughout this ordeal.
When I was done
watching that, I discovered that both the palms of my hands and my feet
had broken out in a cold, clammy sweat.
So, you see, I
might not know something useless like who ‘Hoss’ is, but I have seen a brand-spankin’-new yacht
getting launched into Puget Sound, and winding up upside down in the drink.
Yep, youtube can be
a waste of time, if I’m not careful. When that balloon episode was over,
I ka-thwacked that laptop shut and marched off to bed (and it was long
past bedtime).
There. Did I
answer that question all right?
Oh! – one more
thing: during the sermon, I took notes.
I have a pretty little notebook, and I like to take notes. I began
doing this when I started having so much trouble with blepharospasm. It’s
worse, when looking up toward the platform and pulpit; better when looking
down. So... if I’m going to be looking
down, I might as well be doing something useful. I chose... taking
notes.
I can truthfully
say that my nephew Robert’s sermon was inspiring enough that I never thought of
Bonanz------- uh, the Americana Eagle quilt (or its binding) once throughout
the entire sermon.
After
the service, we gave Malinda her presents – she’d turned one year old the
previous day. We gave her two dresses
that match the hat Hannah crocheted (and I bought from her), and two little
dolls. I pulled the dollies out of the
bag and handed them to Malinda, one after the other. She took them carefully, hugged them, gave
one a big slobbery kiss – and then smiled at me ever so sweetly.
Home again, I got back
to the quilt. I was doing ‘piano-key’ quilting in the final border, and
then I had the previous border to fill in, and that wouldn’t take long. I
would finish it that night... I would finish it that night... I would finish it
that night...
I
got the quilting done, but not the binding.
Back when the
quilting began, I’d misted the top border to remove some markings, and the dark
red bled a bit onto the lighter colors. I could get it out if I washed it
with color catchers, but I didn’t want to wash this whole quilt. I
wasn’t sure how the Inktense pencil dyes would behave, though they’re supposed
to be permanent.
After the fiasco
with that top maroon border, I used a dampened Q-tip to remove the few marks
that didn’t brush off, and I switched from the blue Mark-B-Gone pen to the
purple air-vanishing one.
Teensy just hopped
up into my lap. He’s getting thin and a
bit frail. I wonder how old he is? I wonder if something more is wrong with him
than just old age? He still eats well.
Black Kitty, that
cat of ours who most loved to sit in my lap (though Teensy runs her a close
race), has been gone now for a couple of years. I still miss her.
When she got too old to spring lightly up into my lap, she’d reach up and
pluck-pluckity-pluck on the edge of whatever chair I happened to be sitting on,
which of course made me do something fast, to save the cushion.
I’d reach down to
pick her up, and she’d sit up on her back haunches, front paws up, like a puppy
begging for a bone, and let me pick her up just like one might pick up a
baby. She’d go limp, and expect me to do all the positioning of her,
tucking her in, cuddling her up, getting her just right.
One day in total
preoccupation, I scooped up our arrogant cat Socks and started positioning him
on my lap. He promptly got stiffer’n a board, gazed up into my face with
huge amber eyes, and protested, “MrrrrrrrRRROOWWW!!!” Realizing that I
was using the wrong cat’s technique with the wrong feline, I stopped what I was
doing and apologized. He squinted in a
forgiving mien and started to make himself comfortable – but then I got struck
funny and laughed.
He immediately
exited my lap, stalked in High Dudgeon to the far corner of the room, and
seated himself regally with his back to me in haughty disdain.
Believe me, all
cats are not cut from the same cloth.
The other day,
Larry took a video clip of a big ol’ snake wriggling along through the sand
beside a lake near a big basement for which they were pouring walls. This reminded me of a story from years gone
by, when we lived in town and Teddy was almost 16. Here’s an excerpt from my journal of July 4,
1999:
Outside the window near
my computer desk, on a big barberry bush, a wren family, father, mother, and a
couple of babies, have been conducting a clamorous campaign of scolding. This goes on the greater part of the afternoon,
with the parents doing a rapid-fire, high-pitched, staccato, and the babies
trying to imitate them, but sounding more like toy trains than wrens. And guess what they are so all-fired
up-in-arms {up-in-wings?} about?
Snakes.
That’s right; snakes.
Garter snakes.
Yes, we have a whole
family of garter snakes, small, medium, large, and extra-large, dwelling in and
around a big evergreen bush right beside
our front porch. Ohhh, shiver me
timbers.
Now I know garter
snakes are harmless (or at least I think I know it), and I know that
they gobble up gobs of bugs and even small rodents, but..... couldn’t they do
it at the neighbor’s house instead of mine?! I’ll have to admit, we’ve had no mice since
the snakes moved in; and I’ll have to admit, the mice like to get into the
house and chew things up, while the snakes have yet to cause damage of any
sort..... but, STILL!-- they’re SNAKES!! Those mice are downright cute, in comparison.
One large snake
actually had the audacity to find its way into Teddy’s room, which did not
impress him in the slightest when he awoke early in the morning and found it
coiled neatly on his floor in front of his dresser, as if it considered itself
a worthy article of décor.
“What did you do?”
breathed one of the small sisters in fascinated horror.
“Well,” explained Teddy
carefully, “I used the suction cups on my feet to walk on the ceiling over to
my door, where I climbed over the sill and went on down the hallway and up the
slanted ceiling of the stairwell until I could get to the kitchen and get a
plastic bag, which I took back downstairs and dropped on the snake. Then I hopped back down onto the floor, tied the
bag shut, and hauled it out.”
“Hee hee hee,” giggled
the little sisters.
“Also, I told the snake
to go in your window the next time he wanted in the house,” finished
Teddy.
“Ooooooooooooooo!”
squealed the sisters.
A fellow quilter,
upon reading about the maroon border that bled onto the lighter fabrics,
suggested that I might be able to mask the bleeding with chalk. I grabbed my wide-tipped white chalk pencil
and gave it a try. Here is my report on white chalk vs. bleeding
maroon fabric:
The chalk covered
the faint pink tinges in the few squares where the bleeding occurred well
enough that I shan’t be a-worrying about it anymore. You can still see the vaguest hint of pink,
but I’ll betcha no one but those who know it happened would ever notice.
It was only on the very top of the quilt, at the top edge of the second border.
The rest of those
areas where my white Mark-B-Gone pen showed on the maroon fabric (and there
weren’t many), I used a slightly damp Q-tip to remove the marks. Most of
the marks got brushed off as I rolled the quilt forward. So everything is
fine now, thankfully.
I also fixed a
couple of spots where I missed with the quilting. One good thing about
taking pictures as I go, with good shadowing to show up the quilting, is that
those missed spots are often easier to see in pictures than in real life.
Then I put away all
the quilting thread (I used 15 different colors on this quilt), cleared the
cutting table off, and was ready to cut binding strips.
And then...
OH, MY
GOODNESSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hester had just
sent a group message, complete with pictures, to all her siblings and her
parents:
THEY WERE ON THEIR
WAY HOME, WITH SWEET BABY KEIRA!!!!!!!!!
My crazy offspring’ns
were having the goofiest text conversation, and it was going so fast, I could
hardly read as quickly as they were posting.
Plus, I was laughing and crying, both at the same time. Have you ever tried to read, while doing
that?
Of course the baby
is supposed to be kept away from people for a while... no visitors... those kids of mine all know this...
So Caleb writes, “So
would it be a problem if we came visiting, and invited all our friends, too?”
Lydia tells him, “The
door is deadbolted, Caleb.”
Caleb: “I bet
I can kick it down.”
Hester: “Andrew
is inside.”
Lydia: “Remember
all Andrew’s utensils for those types.”
Victoria: “Don’t
even try. He has a knife collection.”
Caleb: “It
was a joke” He adds an emoji with eyes, no mouth.
Lydia adds an emoji
of a skull.
Victoria posts a
crying face: “But I just said I’m not coming!”
Hester then
announces they’ll break the rules if everyone brings their credit cards.
Victoria: “Mine
is maxed out! How much are you charging?”
Caleb: “I’ll
just stay back for a while.” ((grimacing face))
Hester: “$1,000
per person.”
Hannah: “Pricey!”
Lydia: “Or $5
if it’s your birthday” (Her birthday is the 25th)
Victoria: “IT’S
MY BIRTHDAY! ... o wait” (her birthday is Feb. 24)
Hester: “She
already downed a bottle right when we got home!”
For a couple of
minutes, everybody seemed to be calming down. Even me.
“How much does the
baby weigh?” I asked.
“About 6 lbs.,”
answered Hester.
“Is that all I ever
ask you?” I queried.
Hannah wrote, “I’ve
done that.”
Me: “You
drank a bottle?”
Hannah (who with
her family was on vacation, on their way to the Grand Canyon) then told us, “It
was over 100 degrease in Arches National Park.”
She sent a picture from the Park.
Caleb: “What
were you degreasing in Arches National Park?”
Now, I was reading
and responding to these messages using a Verizon text app on my laptop. But I could hear my phone signally incoming
texts, each time someone wrote.
Suddenly it beeped
loud and long. I picked it up, read the warning
it was displaying, and then wrote (via the laptop text app), “You all ran my
dumbphone plumb out of memory!”
“Just get a new
phone,” advised Victoria.
“Good thing I installed
the text app on my laptop!” I wrote. “Okay, I’ve wiped out all the messages
on my phone. You can start over again.”
“I installed a
windshield wiper on my phone,” remarked Lydia. (Baby Malinda likes to
chew on it.)
The goofiness
resumed. Happy hilarity, as it were.
We were all so happy and thankful!
Larry, who was still
at work, and probably had been driving that big boom truck somewhere, or
operating the boom itself, finally chimed in: “Hey, I was wanting to say
something but there are too many voices going at once and all I can do is read!”
((adds a laughing face))
Victoria: “Just
start talking anyway and we’ll see your mouth moving!”
Yep, I’d say
everybody is plumb delighted.
That evening, I
tried setting up my new folding table beside my sewing table. This would make an L shape, and help hold up
the quilt as I was sewing on the binding. It’s an extra sturdy table – so
sturdy, in fact, that I couldn’t get the braces on the legs to snap into place,
nor could I push in the little pins that allow the legs to extend to the wanted
height. Fortunately, Larry was home.
He put the legs in place and raised the table to the same height as the
cutting table.
Soon
the binding was on the quilt, and I was sewing glass metallic beads to Prairie
Points. Here’s the back of the quilt:
A
couple of quilting friends wrote to ask about the Blepharospasm I’d
mentioned. Here’s some information on Benign Essential Blepharospasm: https://www.blepharospasm.org/
I try very hard not
to let it interrupt my life, though at times it’s hard – particularly in public
places, and especially if those public places have some sort of airflow that
bothers my eyes. I have dry-eye syndrome, and it all works together – and
the root cause of it, in my case, at least, is rheumatoid arthritis. Both
rheumatoid arthritis and blepharospasm are autoimmune diseases.
Most of the time at
home, especially when I’m busy working on this or that, I’m fine. Walking around outside taking pictures, I’m
fine (unless it’s quite windy). But when I start talking to people,
particularly if they’re taller than me (and who isn’t?! heh), then the trouble
gets worse. Imagine trying to converse with someone, when your eyelids
want to slap tight shut. Aarrgghh.
Disconcerting. For them and me, both.
But... I can be friendly,
even with my eyes shut. I can talk to
people... and I can smile. If I’m around people very much, I tell them about
the problem, so they aren’t left wondering.
I can drive all
right, but I must actively work at relaxing the muscles around my eyes. Sunglasses help. Cloudy days
help. When I first start out on a drive, my eyes want to misbehave; but
after the first half-hour of driving or so, they usually get pretty much back
to normal. But it’s tiring, purposely
trying to hold one’s eyes open, and purposely opening them back up after a
blink. I’ve always been a good driver,
and enjoy going places, but nowadays I try a lot harder to be very careful to
leave extra space around my vehicle, in case of a slow blink.
My eyesight is fine,
with glasses (I’m farsighted) – but if my eyes blink too much, it’s hard to
focus. Eyes need a few seconds to get focused on something and then see
it well. At least the eyes themselves are healthy.
All in all, I’m
pretty healthy, so I’m thankful for that.
What King Solomon,
often called ‘the wisest man who ever lived’, wrote is true: “The spirit
of a man will sustain his infirmity.”
Joy in the heart
makes arthritic joints hurt less, that’s a fact – it’s even been documented
scientifically through infrared thermography imaging, how ’bout that.
Those scientists could’ve just read what Solomon wrote, and saved themselves
the trouble.
No, actually, ITI
(Infrared Thermography Imaging) is an amazing way of detecting problems in the
body, and the technology is improving quickly. They even use it on
animals. Just look: Equine Thermal
Imaging
And now I’ve told
you more than you wanted to know about all that.
By the time I
headed for the feathers that night, three small spots I missed while quilting were
quilted... the binding was on... the markings were all removed... the Prairie
Points were steam-pressed down... and a few of the beads were on (glass
metallic beads in silver, gold, bronze, and brass colors).
I was putting the
beads on with invisible thread, and while it looked nice, it was too hard for
me to see, and too difficult for stiff fingers to tie knots in it. I
decided to switch to thread that matched the beads, and thread six needles with
the various colors. That would look fine, and would probably hold better,
too.
When I tried to put
the folding table back down, I couldn’t do that, either. I simply
can’t budge those braces at all. Sooo... I slid the table out of the
room, down the hallway, and parked it under the slanted dormer at the top of
the stairs. At least it has . rubber protectors on the legs, so I didn’t
damage the oak floor. It looks sorta silly there, but... there is
one advantage: it will help visitors to the quilting studio avoid bumping
their heads on that slanted ceiling.
I’d rather be able
to put the table away, and just let everyone bump their heads. ((evil sniggle))
I do warn
people. After that, if they want to bump
their heads, the onus is on them.
Last time Bobby and
Hannah came visiting, all the tall people avoided the indignity, but
not-too-tall grandson Nathanael bumped his head. Wonder why kids
always like to head into the corners?
Actually, I know
why he did that: it’s because I have a short corner bookcase in that spot,
and those kiddos are drawn to books like moths to a flame. He zeroed in
on a title, and never gave another thought to the lowering ceiling.
Note: that
table worked marvelously to help support that quilt while I put on the
binding. All these years of fighting with a quilt that wanted to slide
off the main table or sewing desk and land on the floor... longing for one of
those $$$$$$$$$ L-shaped sewing machine cabinet/ work stations... and all I
really needed was a sturdy, $48 (sale price) folding table.
Amy sent pictures
of Teddy holding a baby skunk, showing it to Elsie. She had the funniest expression on her face. Reckon that baby skunk has a slight
odor? 😄
There
are two of them, and they’d gotten into the garage. Hopefully they and their mother have found a
better place to take up their abode.
Friday
evening, we went to Jeremy and Lydia’s house for Malinda’s one-year birthday
party. And she’s
walking!! It’s a brand-new feat. 😊
Last
Monday night, I ordered from Marshall Dry Goods all the
fabric (and then some) that I will need for a quilt that I plan to make after I
finish the Sunbonnet Sue quilt. I got 59
different one-yard pieces of tone-on-tone in whites and creams, and eleven
yards of this fabric called ‘Early Elegance’:
I’ll probably use it
for the backing for the white and cream quilt. That’s 70 yards of fabric at $3.99/yd. Quite a lot to spend on fabric, all at once, but
I haven’t bought more than a yard or two (except for the white-on-white
background fabric for Dorcas’ Baskets of Lilies quilt) since I purchased the
fabric for the Mosaic Lighthouse quilt, way back in... hmmm... ((looking at my
journals)) Wow, that was in May of 2013!
Hard to believe it’s been that long: New
Fabric for Next Quilt
I had quite a bit
of that fabric left over, and used it again and again in subsequent quilts, so
it was money well spent. Plus, I got
most of it on sale for $5.99.
I have a very small
stash of quilting cottons, with practically no whites and creams whatsoever, so
this fabric will come in handy. Several
people asked me for an evaluation of the fabric, once I got it. It all
seems to be very nice quality. This should last me quite some time
(though if I need the same background fabric for any large upcoming quilt, I
may have foiled myself by getting 59 different pieces, one yard each).
The fabric came
Friday. It was in a big, heavy-duty blue
bag. Larry found it on the porch when he
got home from work and brought it into the house. Saturday, I took it upstairs to my quilting
studio. Did you know that 70 yards of fabric is heavy? I had
to drag that bag up the steps behind
me.
I opened it... slid
the fabric out... and looked through all the pretty pieces. The ‘Early
Elegance’ fabric is a whole lot prettier in person (in ‘fabric’?) than it is in
the picture.
A friend commented,
“So, since you dragged it upstairs, I guess you don’t pre-wash??”
Nope, I don’t
prewash. I rarely admit it, though, since so many people act shocked, and
back away from me with their noses rumpled, as if I don’t take baths,
either. 😜😂
I’m telling you, people
can get downright hostile over the matter.
Spraying each other with starch and I don’t know what all.
Late Friday night, I finished putting the glass metallic
beads on the quilt. While I sewed, I listened to Bible readings from Genesis 1 to Exodus 9 on
BibleGateway.com. I like the reading of
a British man, Max McLean, better than the American reader, Paul Mims, and certainly better than the dramatized
version, ugh. There are many different
Bible versions one can listen to. We
much prefer the old King James Version.
A friend who
recently got several bird feeders as a birthday gift has been enjoying all the
birds – and then the squirrels found her feeders. She asked for some advice.
Here are a few
ideas for keeping squirrels out of the bird feeders: Squirrels
at the Bird Feeders and How
to Squirrel-Proof a Birdfeeder
As for me, I just
grab my camera... take a bunch of cute pictures... and then run out onto the
back deck yelling “Shoo!” and clapping my hands like a crazy woman. This
combination of behaviors makes the squirrels extremely leery, and they stay
away for longer periods of time.
That last sentence
isn’t true.
This combination of
behaviors actually convulses the squirrels and makes them giggle so hard they
can’t shinny up the rebar and get to the feeders.
That sentence isn’t
true either.
Sigh.
Someone hand me my
camera. And “Honey, could you pick up some more sunflower seed when you’re
in town?”
Oh, the safflower
seed idea does work, though it will take the birds a little while to accept it,
and the seed costs a little more (or maybe less, depending on exactly
how much black oil sunflower seed the squirrels are eating). Victoria
used to get it at Earl May Gardening Center when she worked there, using her
employee discount. The squirrels leave the Nyjer seed alone.
Usually.
Get seed – and
dried corn on the cob for the squirrels (you can get the cutest little feeders
to stick them on) – at co-ops and farm supply stores. Much cheaper, and
then you won’t feel so bad when the squirrels, chipmunks, voles, coyotes,
opossums, skunks, raccoons, bears, and kangaroos gobble it down.
Actually, nobody
knows if kangaroos like sunflower seed, because feeding the birds is very much
frowned on in Australia. The ‘authorities’ on this matter still think
feeding birds makes them dependent on humans, and if the humans then go on
holiday, the king-parrots and the mynas and the spinebills and the kookaburras
and the butcherbirds will be left sitting forlornly on the courtyard fence,
staring in famished ravenousness at the empty feeders.
In-depth studies on
that subject have been done here in the States and in the UK, and it has been
determined that most birds only get a small amount of their sustenance from
feeders, and they don’t lose their ability to find food on their own, in any
case. Taking the feeders down suddenly doesn’t affect them as much as one
might think – though if enough people do it all at once, some birds might
relocate. They do go for the easiest food route, in order to
conserve energy. That’s their instinct.
If you fail to fill
a feeder that you’ve kept up for ravens, though, they just might – and probably
will – come a-knocking at your windows! Yesirree, they will do
that. Ravens and parrots are perhaps the smartest birds there are, though
eagles and falcons give them a run for their money.
Then I went to
Hobby Lobby for batting for my customer’s quilts. While there, I got Jacob the rest of his
birthday gifts: a glow-in-the-dark
official-size Frisbee, and a three-spoked flying disk. We’d gotten him a
set of nautical magnets during one of our visits to Cracker Barrel a month or
so ago. Jacob turned 9 yesterday; we gave him his gifts after church last
night.
Lydia’s birthday is
today. We gave her some Pioneer Woman
baking dishes.
When I got home
from Hobby Lobby, I filled the bird feeders, watered the indoor houseplants, and
cleaned the kitchen. Then I trotted
upstairs to make a machine-embroidered label for the eagle quilt. It’s
done, but I still need to sew it onto the quilt.
I’m planning to
enter the eagle quilt into the county and state fairs, and after that, maybe
the AQS quilting show. My only
hesitation in entering anything in AQS shows is that one must fork over $35 for
each entry. $35 might be a drop in the bucket to some folks, but for me,
it’s the next birthday gift for a family member! Or a small cartload of
fresh vegetables and fruit! Or three yards of nice fabric! There is
also shipping fees to and from those quilt shows.
I think,
though I’m not sure, that our State Fair will be over in time that I
could send my quilt to the AQS quilt show in Des Moines, Iowa, for the show
this coming October. I’d hoped to attend the show last year, but instead
we went to Colorado to get a pickup camper. Larry, knowing I’d wanted to
go to the quilt show, offered to drive back across Kansas the next day, and all
the way to Des Moines. I declined. First, my joints don’t like to
ride and ride and ride – and neither does the rest of me. I like to stop
at pretty places and hike and explore and take pictures!
Besides, we were in
Loveland, Colorado, for pity’s sake – right smack-dab under the
spectacular Rocky Mountains. I hadn’t been to the mountains for ... ? two
years, maybe. I chose: stay in the mountains. I love
the mountains.
So anyway, this
year, I want to go ----- and I want to try entering maybe two quilts in the
show – the Baskets of Lilies quilt and the Americana Eagle quilt.
Somebody on
Facebook offered me $100 for the eagle quilt.
Since I was away at
church and didn’t answer right away, she came back and offered $200 for it.
Still no answer
from me, so she commented that if she had the money, she would offer $1,000,
because – get this – it would be wonderful to place atop a coffin instead of
flowers.
Will I ever look at
that quilt the same again?
It’s
Bobby and Hannah’s 18th anniversary today. We sent them a gift card that hopefully
they’ll be able to use on their trip.
Today they took a scenic ride on a steam train.
It poured rain all through the night and
most of the morning. There’s flooding
all around us, and many roads are closed, including Highway 81, the major
north/south artery through middle Nebraska. I wonder why they didn’t build that road up,
where it goes near Shell Creek, when they made it into a four-lane some years
back? Everybody knew that creek
turns into a raging torrent anytime there is excessive rain.
This
afternoon I was discussing email programs with some friends. I use Microsoft’s Outlook. I have separate folders for all the people
who regularly send me emails.
And then, just to
add to the fun, I make ‘rules’ for emails from regulars to play various audio
clips, so that as I’m sewing, or doing housework, or using another computer
program, if I hear “forest birds”, I know I have an email from CQ4CBs. If
I hear “Send Me the Pillow that You Dream On,” Larry has sent me a text or
picture; if “Give Me Forty Acres to Turn This Rig Around”, he’s emailed
me. If “Singing in the Bathtub” starts playing, I have a newsletter from
the Soap Shop in Idaho Springs, Colorado.
If I get a shipping
notice or receipt from Wal-Mart, a man’s voice exclaims, “Woooo!!! Somebody done been to the Wal-Mart!”
When Caleb writes to me, Gayla Peevey (age 10, 1953) sings, “I Want a
Hippopotamus for Christmas”, just because Caleb thought it was a funny song
when he was young, and went to saying “Bring me home a monkey!” or “a rhinoceros”
or “hippo” or “water buffalo” or “yak” or whatever struck his fancy, every time
we went somewhere. I once found a large bin chockful of stuffed monkeys
at a big Salvation Army in Omaha, so I filled my cart full of all the cutest,
like-new ones – and then doled them out to Caleb one at a time, anytime we came
home from somewhere, if he hadn’t come along with us.
And for
Victoria? Gomer Pyle breathes, “ShaZAMMM.” If Hester writes, cute
little Amy Castle sings the first verse of “You’re My Cuppycake.”
Okay, you don’t
want to hear about the next 300 rules in my list, so I’ll cease and desist
now.
A friend just sent me
an ‘online Driver Test’ to check response time in stopping. I got 387 milliseconds – reaction of a
30-year-old – on the first try.
Reckon I could do
better, the 2nd time around? Hmmm...
Yep! 328
milliseconds. Now I’m 22 years old.
Okay, I’d better
quit, or I won’t be old enough to drive anymore. 😄
A lady wrote and
asked how I get the arches in a quilt border measured out perfectly.
As for those arches
on the borders of the Americana Eagle quilt, they were easy, because I was able
to match them up with the 2” squares in the previous border. But when my
previous border or central part of the quilt doesn’t have clear ‘markers’, then
I measure. I lay my ruler down and see
what size of an arch might look pleasing to the eye, then decide something on
this order: Hmmm... If a four-inch arch looks nice, and the length of
this border is 90”... I would get 22.5 four-inch arches. Now, I don’t
want to wind up with half an arch at the end of the border. So... I think I’ll put 23 arches on
this border. That means each arch will measure – get this:
3.9130434782608695652173913043478
inches. haha (90 ÷ 23)
Sooo... I’ll mark
the starting/ending points for each arch at slightly less than 4”. Only slightly.
You’d be surprised
how many times my arches don’t wind up exactly the same. But it’s not really noticeable, after the
quilt is done.
I’ve put the
Americana Eagle quilt on the twin bed in the little library upstairs. I stroll into the room now and again to take
another look at it.
I really am quite
pleased with that quilt. Like all of my
quilts, I can clearly see the spots where it’s not perfect – but I like it
anyway. Funny to think that that quilt
came about because Larry was doing something in my quilting studio, and I didn’t
want to get in his way (never hinder a man when he’s finally working on your
things!), so instead of working on any of the big projects I had going at the
moment (I think it was the Baskets of Lilies quilt), I pulled out a little
pencil box in which I had squished all the little maroon and navy triangle
snippets I’d trimmed from another quilt, long, long ago. I grabbed some
leftover strips of cream, off-white, beige, and tan, and started making
one-inch squares with those triangles. When they were all used up, I put
the little squares together to make 2”
pinwheels.
I wound up with 87
navy ones and 86 maroon ones.
Okay, now
what?? Gotta use these for ... something. They’re
cute!
EQ8 to the
rescue! I pulled it up... and started playing.
The Americana Eagle
quilt is the result. So that was fun!
The
library and the twin bed there is the perfect for this quilt. The afternoon lighting is just right, but the
sun doesn’t ever hit the bed, so it won’t make the fabric fade. More pictures here.
Well, I have four
customer quilts to do, so I’d better get with it. Two more are coming in a month. I’ve
been turning people down, because I have my own projects I’ve been wanting to
do for over a year, and haven’t had time for them. I do customer quilts
because we can always use the money. But I sure got swamped with them for
the last year or more!
,,,>^..^<,,, Sarah Lynn ,,,>^..^<,,,
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