Ah,
well. If people weren’t peoply, I
wouldn’t have nearly so much to write about, would I?
Now let’s talk
about my quilting friends. One of them
didn’t know what those odd yellow things were at the bottom of the Americana
Eagle quilt.
I wanted to tell her they were a pair of quadrapi – like octopi, but with
only half the tentacles; but I didn’t get the chance.
“I just realized they are his ‘toes’,” she
wrote. “I figured it out when I saw,
again, that his beak is yellow.”
Maybe eagles do have
kind of funny-looking feet, when you see them up close. And the babies look pretty much like they have
clown shoes on: Eagle
Feet But, my oh my, those talons certainly work well for them!
She pushed the
issue: “They look similar to chickens’ feet, which are also gross.”
‘Gross’?! Way to insult our feathered friends,
lady! And the Creator of all fowl, whilst
you’re at it. Give it a little study,
and be amazed: How
Bird Feet Work
Like I said, those
feet are perfectly suited for them. 🐔🦅🦉🦃🐓🐤🐦🐥🕊🦆🐧
Most of you know that I have three friends who
are blind. My friend Penny sometimes
asks me to see something twice, for
her. Here’s a recent email from her:
“When you see something
wonderful, why, you just take it in twice
as deeply, so you’ve got my watch-time in there, too. A beautiful sunset? See it twice as well, thanks. Not everyone appreciates the sentiment. At least you understand it.
“Flash of
unbelievable colour? Savour the moment
for both of us, and tell us all about it afterwards.”
I
remember when Penny and Rita first moved here, back when I was just nine years
old. (Linda didn’t come until ...
hmmm... maybe 12 years ago.) I’d go with
my parents on a trip somewhere – let’s say, to the mountains, which I
love. I’d go exploring along a mountain
stream... then I’d stop and close my eyes and think, Now I’m going to see this the way Penny and Rita do.
So I’d
stand there and listen with all my might and main, hearing the mountain birds,
the rushing water, the little blip-bloop sound of rainbow trout jumping, the
thwip-thwip of water beetles jumping and skimming across the water, the wind
rustling the pine needles... and sometimes, the crunch-crunch of a deer walking
somewhere in the thicket, or the thumpity-thump of a golden-mantled ground
squirrel hopping along a branch overhead.
Then I’d
open my eyes and look at the path, calculate where such and such a tree was,
and think, I can trot right over there to
that tree without looking, and this long stick is my cane. So I’d close my eyes again and do it,
thunkity-thunking the stick in front of me to check for boulders and suchlike.
But what
I really liked doing was coming home
from far-flung places and describing them in detail to both of my friends.
Penny
says that one of things she thinks about and misses is the ability to spot
someone in a large crowd, catch her eye, and then walk toward her while she is walking Penny’s way.
Always
trying to be helpful, I suggested, “You could just put an arm straight up over
your head and yodel, ‘Yooo-hooo!
Ermaline!’ or whoever you were wanting.
Believe me, she’d come right quick-like, to prevent you from repeating
yourself!”
This made
Penny shudder most dreadfully just thinking
of it. Penny tries to be proper. “I hopes people keep me home before I get to be an embarrassment!”
she exclaimed.
Hee
hee I’ve asked my children to keep me
out of public when I get fluffheaded. 🤪
Tuesday, I started
loading a customer’s quilt. I soon
discovered that the backing was baaaarely long enough. If I could’ve
loaded it sideways, it would’ve been plenty
big – but the fabric was directional. The lady had not realized that both the
top and the backing were definitely directional. I set about squeeeeeezing
the top onto the back. It was a cute
child’s or baby’s quilt, with cats all over the top, and hearts on the back.
Here’s how I load
directional prints, when they’re on both top and backing:
1.
Load backing, being sure to note which way is ‘up’.
2.
Lay batting down, baste.
3.
Load top, baste.
4.
Take out thread, turn top around right, re-baste.
I’m glad I have a long
basting stitch, so the ‘take out thread’ part of the equation is quick and
easy! 🙄
I used my new Rowenta
Steam Station for the first time, as I was loading the quilt. It worked
perfectly, better even than my old one. This one has a reservoir that can
be removed and refilled (or I can refill while it’s on the pressure tank) right
whilst the tank is hot and pressurized. The old one had to be cooled
before it could be filled – and that could take half an hour. This one has
a clear tank, too, with marks to show how much water is in it. There is
also a calcium collector that can be removed and cleaned. The old one
didn’t have that. It has adjustable steam pressure, and
doesn’t steam unless you pull the trigger. On full blast, it steams like
the Canadian Pacific engine crossing Kicking Horse Pass.
Because water is
not stored in the iron itself, it is lightweight and easy to handle, but heavy
enough to press well without having to push on it. Plus, there is no
auto shut-off. Yaaay!
It takes a looong
time before it runs out of water. It doesn’t spew or dribble or leak.
I taped the
pantograph into position, and launched into the quilting.
That night after
supper, we went to Ag Park to see the fireworks. Here are three little grandsons on the fence
watching the pyrotechnics.
Before the show
started, Teddy came walking along with Warren, who’s 3. He’s a bit timid, and was standing slightly
behind Teddy, the better to stay away from all the strangers. I snuck up behind him, leaned down, and said
in his ear, “Did you bring me some firecrackers?”
He turned around
quickly, looked up at me, grinned a little, and shook his head ‘no’.
I made an amazed
face, and demanded, “Why?! I wanted firecrackers!”
He started
giggling. “Didn’t bring any.”
He giggled all the
more.
Small grandsons are
lots of fun, you know that? (Big ones
aren’t so bad, either.)
Baby Carolyn didn’t
mind the fireworks, so long as someone covered her ears during the really loud
explosions.
At the end, just
before the Grand Finale, there were billowing firebursts that sent waves of
heat rolling over us. Quite
impressive.
Afterwards, we
stopped at Hy-Vee, and Larry went in to get me some clips for the elastic
bandage I had wrapped around my wrist.
They didn’t have any (I did not hesitate to say ‘I told you so’, since I
had recommended stopping at one of the drugstores), so he got me a compression
glove with a wide Velcro band at the wrist.
It looked nicer, but it hurts
my fingers and doesn’t hold my thumb in place or make my wrist feel better. The old elastic bandage is better. I’m still using a safety pin to hold it in
place, but I just ordered some clips from Amazon.
When we got home, I
finished my customer’s quilt, then baked chocolate chunk/peanut butter chip
cookies to take to the Fourth-of-July church picnic the next day.
Wednesday morning,
Larry filled the five-gallon thermos half full of ice, then put quarter-pounders
with green and red peppers and baby onions on the Traeger grill. He added some of his special sauce (he just
throws stuff together, and turns out something scrumptious – and it’s never the
same twice), I popped ciabatta rolls into the oven, and buttered them when they
were done. Larry brought the burgers in,
put them on the rolls, and put cheese on them quickly, so it would melt a
bit.
When it was almost
time to go, I put a frozen fruit concoction of peaches, pineapple,
strawberries, blackberries, raspberries, mango, and blueberries into a bowl, and
rested it inside a larger ice-filled bowl.
And that was our
contribution for the day.
Kurt and
Victoria and Carolyn sat across the table from us at the picnic. Carolyn watched Larry get his plate and
utensils all adjusted... pick up his fork... scoop up some food... put a bite
in his mouth ------ and then she leaned forward, all twinkly-eyed, and
smack-smack-smacked at him, after which she leaned back and grinned, all
smug-like.
He
laughed... then waited until Victoria put a bite in Carolyn’s mouth, whereupon he leaned forward and
smack-smack-smacked at her. She swallowed, giggled, and watched
carefully, patiently (or otherwise), until he
took a bite – and then she ker-smackity-smacked again.
Silly
baby!
We
stopped at the Goodwill after the picnic and I got a few very nice decorative
pillows, one of which I would cover, and hopefully get it done in time to enter
in the county fair.
We came
home with just a few bites of fruit left in the bowl. Larry wanted one of his hamburgers, but they
were on a different table than the one where we got our food, and when he went
back for one, they were all gone. We
forgot to go get the pan that had the cookies in it, so I don’t know if any
were left.
It’s hard to decide
if one should feel jubilant or sad, when one finds one’s pans and dishes plumb
empty after a picnic. 😃 I told Larry not to cry, because
we had everything we needed at home to make more hamburgers – and they might be
even better, because instead of quarter-pounders, they were Black Angus steak burgers. So he cheered up. A little.
(Mind you, there was no shortage of food; he didn’t go hungry.)
It was 90° F that
afternoon, with a heat index of 102°. Hot,
hot.
Have you ever
noticed how little kiddos’ world is right up-close and personal? They have no idea how enormous the earth is.
When I was little,
I thought the White House was on the edge of our town. There it
was! A little white house.
“Why does the
president live in such a small house?” I asked, and wondered why everyone
looked at me so blankly.
My mother, ever the
teacher, got out maps and pictures of the White House, and ah done larnt me
sumpthang.
After we got home, I took the rag-shag rug downstairs, spread it out on
the marble table upside down (the rug
was upside down, you understand; not the table), and the painted the back of
the rug with Fiber-Lok Non-Skid Rug Backing.
The label says it has ammonia in it.
Whew, does it! In the middle of the job, I stopped, trotted
upstairs to my quilting studio, collected my fan, carried it back downstairs, and
turned it on high. I like to breathe.
I should’ve done a
better job of vacuuming off the back before painting the goo on, I’m
afraid. 😕
I gave it a feeble effort, but both wrist and nose, along with throat
and eyes, were complaining, and I just didn’t care enough that there were stray
pieces of thread, cat hair, and lint on the underside of that rug. (Now that it’s done, I care.)
I painted as fast
as I could, and ran for my life.
After washing out
the paintbrush, I returned to my
sewing room, divided up the Prairie Points left over from the Americana Eagle
quilt, and sewed them onto borders for the Americana Eagle pillow. I
found a line drawing of an eagle head, drew in unfinished lines, and numbered
the pieces.
And that was enough
for the day.
Here’s
the big picnic shelter at Pawnee Park that we reserve each year. We have
417 people in our congregation now, and almost everyone comes to the
picnic. Near the camera on the right are Loren and Norma.
The second
photo shows the overflow, out into the area near the playsets.
Grant, who’s 5, was a particularly good friend that day, because he was the direct cause of another little boy, also 5, whose family was visiting, thinking I am a jolly good feller. Grandma. Li’l ol’ lady. Something. Jolly good, in any case!
Thursday, I traced
the eagle template pieces onto freezer paper, doubled it, cut the pieces, and
ironed them onto fabrics. I sketched an abstract mountain/sky background,
and pulled out some fabric.
But first,
supper! Larry made the same hamburgers (or ‘hangleburgers’, as Keith, our
oldest, used to call them when he was about 2) that he’d made for the church
picnic. He used some sort of marinade
concocted of BBQ sauce and honey mustard.
Scrumptious.
When supper was
over, I returned to my sewing room. I
really didn’t know if I could get this pillow done by Monday morning or
not. There are 44 pieces in the eagle’s head and 19 in the background,
making a total of 63 appliquéd pieces. I
got all those pieces trimmed, edges starched and ironed over, and the
background glued into place.
At least this time
I had enough sense to put colors
behind the eagle, so he’d show up, and I wouldn’t have to use Inktense dyes on
the background. 😏
Friday, I pulled
out the beautiful YLI silk thread and YLI dark invisible thread a fellow
quilter gave me, and began machine-stitching the background, using a very
narrow blanket stitch.
After the
background was appliquéd, I glued the pieces for the eagle head into place and began
stitching them.
Just look how the
silk thread blends into these background fabrics.
I used the dark
invisible thread in the ‘mountain’ pieces, and it really is almost completely
invisible. There was nary a single broken thread, either. More pictures here.
The fact is, I like
all parts of quilt-making, from buying books to designing to choosing fabrics
to cutting to preparing to piecing to appliquéing to quilting to binding!
😍
Now for the eagle
head! Debating... hmmm... shall I use the dark silver thread, to make
each feather show up with just a little more definition, or shall I use the
clear invisible thread? Hmmmm...
I chose a pale
silver thread.
By the time I
headed for bed that night, the Americana Eagle pillow top was done and ready to
be quilted. A few more shots are here.
Saturday, I hurried
back to my quilting studio to work on the Americana Eagle pillow. I wouldn’t be working on it Sunday, so this
was the last day to get it done before time to enter it in the County Fair.
A lady on one of
the online quilting groups wrote to say that she liked that little airplane in
the clouds.
“That was
serendipity,” I told her. “I had a
little piece of that fabric left (it’s the stuff I used for backing on the
Americana Eagle quilt)... and realized that if I positioned that cloud just
right, the plane would be in the right place, too! 😉
”
Immediately after
answering her email, I found an email
from another lady on the same group: “Tell
us about the airplane!”
So I wrote to her,
knowing that she would soon be seeing my first email, “Carol, I told Joyce
about the airplane; if you steam open her envelope, read it, and carefully seal
it back up again, she’ll never know.” 😆
I had just
baaaarely enough of that pretty blue fabric for the borders; there are only a
few little pieces left. That was the fabric I once needed more of, for a
project I was working on – but the bolt of fabric was cooling its heels in a
big moving truck while the ladies who own Claus ’en Paus Quilt Shop finished
fixing up their new store in anticipation of moving all their fabric and
furniture into it. I made do with something else... and never did get any
more of this particular fabric.
There was still a
lot to do on the pillow: quilt it...
make piping for the edges... put it all together... Where’s my thick
cording? And further, how will I stuff the pillow into it, with
this bum wrist and thumb?
How long does it
take people to learn to use their feet, instead of their hands?
It’s hard to get my
hair curled each morning with only one and a half paws! 😅
I loaded some backing – chose some really ugly stuff
that I would never use in a million years, since it would be hidden inside the
pillow, then pulled out several scraps of Mountain Mist batting, and laid them
in place atop the backing. I didn’t
bother to zigzag them together first, since I was stacking together three
layers, and the upper layers would hold together the lower layers. These layers of batting would give the eagle head
and parts of the quilting design a trapunto appearance, as if I had stuffed
them separately.
After basting down the batting, I laid the pillow
top on it, basted the edges, and set to work.
When the quilting was done, I cut the pillow top
from the backing, then sewed glass metallic beads onto all the Prairie
Points. It was
because of those Prairie Points that I made the pillow in the first place –
they were left over from the quilt, and I couldn’t let them go to waste, you
know! 😉
I sewed together the strips for the cording, sewed the
cording into it, and attached it to the pillow top. Next, the backing... then a final trimming...
and then I turned the case right side out, stuffed the pillow form into it
(with difficulty), and sewed the bottom edge shut. The Americana Eagle pillow was
finished, and it wasn’t even midnight yet.
Alllmost, but not quite.
My Jeep had some
problem – maybe with the starter relay? Larry wasn’t sure. Sometimes it wouldn’t start until the third
or fourth try. Turning the key brought
on all the lights and suchlike, but there wasn’t even a small click in the starter. Sometimes it would suddenly die while we were
driving at highway speeds. It started back up again, but it sure gave a
jerk when it happened! Ugh, I can’t stand to drive an unreliable vehicle.
Larry remarked
nonchalantly the other day, “Well, you have a cell phone.”
Aarrgghh. He
might think a vehicle croaking on the highway is nothing monumental, but I do
think it’s monumental.
Friday or Saturday
he informed me that he had scheduled the Jeep to be worked on – Monday morning.
Aaaccckkk!!! That was the very morning I needed to take
my things to the fair!
After letting me stew about it for a couple of days, Larry told me that
he could help me take my things to the fair, and we would then drop off the
Jeep at the dealership.
Maybe he thought it would reflect badly on him, should I be seen hitchhiking to town with a passel of bags and
boxes?
About the time I was thinking these
ungracious thoughts, a friend wrote the following: “Ah, the pillow and eagle quilt will surely
be a visible symbol of your boundless love for him.”
“Unless he thinks I
made them for myself,” I retorted, “and just tacked his name on there so I
could keep them guiltlessly!” heh (I will never confirm nor deny that theory.)
After church
yesterday morning, we stopped at Lura Kay’s house so I could pick up the silk
ribbon embroidered picture and the tea towels
I had embroidered for her, as she had agreed to let me enter them in the fair:
We also picked up
the elk
panel quilt I’d given Jeremy. I promised to give everything back again, or
make duplicates if anything happened to them.
After our evening service last night, we visited Loren and Norma, and I
borrowed a placemat and a couple of mug rugs I’d made, and issued the
aforementioned replacement promise. They
gave us cookies and ice cream and coffee, and Loren happily told us all the
things Norma has been doing to make his house nicer than ever.
A friend wrote to me, regarding the Americana Eagle pillow, “My artist
husband was relieved, when looking at the earlier progression photos, that they
finally showed that you put the white spot in the eye. 
”
”
I responded, “That’s funny. Yes,
the poor eagle didn’t have any personality without that little dab of white
paint, did he? So... your husband doesn’t
care for Orphan Annie and her ilk, then? 
” (Orphan Annie and friends were
not only missing the light in the
eye; they were all missing their pupils entirely!)
” (Orphan Annie and friends were
not only missing the light in the
eye; they were all missing their pupils entirely!)
I remember an art teacher I had in Jr. High
lamenting over some hapless classmate’s charcoal portrait, in which he’d
neglected to add the eye light: “The
lass has no soul!”
Said classmate took the drawing back to his desk,
added light to the eye, and returned to the teacher.
The teacher then cried, “The lass’s soul is cross-eyed!” – and everyone howled with
laughter.
This morning, just
before 8:00 a.m., I headed off to Ag Park to enter my things and a couple of my
daughters’ things in the fair. On the
way, Larry met me at Columbus Motors, left his pickup there to drive home
later, and we went on to Ag Park.
It took 45 minutes
to get everything checked in. The ladies always have a hard time finding
the proper category for things in their multi-page notebooks, especially when
the place first opens and they haven’t gone through very many entries and haven’t
learned where the categories are located in their books.
For Victoria I
entered a crocheted bonnet; for Hannah, the quilled
quilt in glass frame, the wooden butterfly plaque with 3D
paper flowers, the thick chenille finger-crocheted afghan and matching pillow
she made for Larry; and ten items of my own:
2.
Americana Eagle quilt
3.
Americana Eagle pillow
5.
Silk ribbon embroidery picture
6.
Embroidered tea towels
7.
Elk panel throw
10.
Rag-shag rug
When that was done,
we left the Jeep at the dealership thinking it needed the transmission computer
reformatted (or at least that’s what Larry
thought; I have my doubts as to whether the Jeep was thinking anything at
all), and Larry brought me home and then went back to work.
Tomorrow I have an
apron to make for a friend who used to help care for my mother. She’s never really asked, but she’s often
oohed and ahhed over the aprons I made back in 2010 and 2011: http://sarahlynnsclothesrack.blogspot.com/p/apron-strings.html
She and her husband
raise chickens. I just got a
chicken/rooster panel for a lady who wants me to make a cat bed out of it. There will be several printed blocks left
over --- so I immediately thought of my friend, who has quietly wished she had
an apron all these years. AND – her birthday is tomorrow! I’ll have
it done by the next time I see her at church, I hope.
As soon as her apron is finished, I plan to machine-embroider a promised
set of six tea towels as a belated wedding gift for my great-nephew.
The quilt for Lorli the Cat will be next on the list. I should have
it done by the end of the week, unless I get too many interruptions.
I just discovered
from the Columbus Telegram online that two of our favorite teachers, Dave
Massman (my ninth-grade algebra teacher), and Ron Veal (Larry’s tenth-grade
electronics teacher and also our neighbor when we lived in town), died July 5th. Dave Massman, 72, died of cancer. Ron Veal was 77. Just a couple of months ago, one of my Home
Ec teachers, another favorite of mine, passed away.
Quilting
ladies are discussing what to do with ‘too many quilts’. One has given multiples to all members of her
family, and no one needs any more. She’s
even supplied all the charities in town with quilts, and they don’t need anymore, either. Another lady doesn’t have anyone to give them to, because the family doesn’t like them (or appreciate handmade things).
So the
first lady wants to sell quilts, in
order to afford to make more, and wants to know how and where to go about
it.
Rarely can a quilt be sold for a price that would be
satisfactory for the labor and materials put into it. I sometimes tell people who want to buy
things I’ve made, “Whatever price I quote, it will be too much for you and not
enough for me.”
If I sold that
Americana Eagle quilt (or the Mosaic Lighthouse quilt – it was the one I had
appraised), Larry would be crying. I do so hate to see a grown man
cry.
A friend remarked, “With your big family,
there will always be someone to give a quilt to.”
Yep. Twenty-two
grandchildren and counting. There’s absolutely no hope of me ever getting
to the nieces, nephews, great-nieces, great-nephews – and I have a whole raft
of great-greats, too. Then there are the cousins, second cousins, third
cousins, first cousins once removed...
Back to the quilt
quandary: You know, if I followed in the footsteps of Eleanor Burns, and
made A Quilt In A Day, every day, I could have 365 of those
aforementioned in-laws and outlaws well quilted in one year flat.
But,
noooooooo. I have to go and make sumpthin’ that takes 300 +/- hours. How can I quilt everybody (if people
can ‘gift’ someone, I can ‘quilt’ someone, uh-huh, yes I can) if I diddle
around like that?!
Motto: Eat
well, live long, quilt qonstantly and qontinuously. And let the second
cousins quilt themselves.
Amy just sent a picture
of a shiny red convertible and wrote, “Warren said we parked by a ‘broken car’. hee hee
Funny little kiddo.
The
cicadas are noisy tonight. Sounds of
summer!
,,,>^..^<,,, Sarah Lynn ,,,>^..^<,,,
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