Journal: Quilting... and Flood Damage

As I type, a red-tailed hawk is circling far overhead, soaring with wings outstretched.  Now and then two or three smaller birds take chase, and the hawk pumps its wings to get away from the pesky things.  Hawks might eat a small bird for breakfast, but they certainly can’t outmaneuver them when the little birds are flying rapidly along behind, taking potshots – uh, beak shots – at them. 

I think hawks are hard to identify.  First, different species look alike.  Second, individuals of the same species look different, with various colors of feathers and markings.  Third, an individual might not only look different from season to season, but from year to year.

At least our common red-tailed hawk always has a reddish undertail.  And the kestrel is always the smallest.  Other than that...  ??

It rained most of the day Wednesday.  We were all right on our little hill, but some people had additional flooding.

I was quilting the seventh row on the New York Beauty quilt.  When I rolled the quilt forward a few inches, row eight appeared – the bottom border!

After our midweek church service, we went to the grocery store, then home for a late supper.  By the time we finished eating and chattering, I was too sleepy to work on the quilt.

So I went to bed a little sooner than usual:  1:30 a.m.  I woke up a little before 5:00 a.m. Thursday morning, and couldn’t get back to sleep.  Larry got up at a quarter after six, and got ready for work.  I gave up trying to sleep, and climbed out of bed a little before 7:00 a.m.  I had plenty of enthusiasm to go work in the flower gardens, which look pretty scruffy right now, but it was raining, and it rained most of the day.

Victoria sent pictures of Baby Violet, writing, “Violet is 6 months old today!  💜💜💜  She sits up on her own pretty well now.  She is working on cutting a tooth or two on the bottom – not very comfortable!  She loves to play and be cuddled... still loving swaddles for nap time and at night.  We just started solid food, but she usually sits there smiling so big all the food falls out.  😂  She’s a little sweetheart!”

That made me laugh: “She sits there smiling so big, the food falls out.”  All of a sudden, I remembered the same thing happening with her Mama!  😃

That baby looks a lot like one of those porcelain ‘real-life’ dolls.  😍

Some time after midnight when I decided to quit quilting for the night, I was close to halfway done with the bottom border on the New York Beauty quilt.

Early Friday afternoon, I opened a window – and warmer air came in than was already in the room!  Now, there’s a new and different happenin’ for the year.  The high was expected to be 69°.  I could’ve worked in the yard... but I was sooo close to finishing the quilting on this quilt, I could almost taste it.

Gardening is hard work!  In years gone by, I have called around for a lawn service to help me a bit – but none of them ever returned my calls.  How do ya like that?!  😏🙄😕

Most soil around these parts is black and rich.  Ours, however, though it does have a few areas of good black dirt, is mostly hard clay.  But things do grow well – probably because under that clay is good soil.  There are a couple of sandy spots, too.  When we first moved here, there was a good patch of prickly pear cacti in one of those areas.  I saved a couple and put them in planters, and twice – only twice – one bloomed, with those big, beautiful, paper-thin blossoms.  But eventually we had too much rain, and though I poured out the excess water from the pots each time, the cacti croaked.  Drowned. 

Saturday, I was quilting away, Tiger and Teensy sawing logs under my quilting frame.  I was happily thinking that this particular phase was almost done, when I suddenly spotted something on my cutting table.  I still have two king-sized shams to quilt.  They’ll take at least two days, I imagine.

That afternoon, the last row of quilting was finished on the New York Beauty quilt, and I trimmed it and removed it from the frame.  Then I pieced together the backing for the king-sized pillow shams (I didn't have any big enough whole pieces for the shams) and loaded them on the quilting frame.

After the shams are quilted, I’ll work on a fancy-schmancy edging and binding.  And when that’s done, there are a gazillion pearls to sew on the lace.

The topic of discussion on one of the online quilting groups recently was this:  Are you planning to enter a quilt in a local or national quilt show this year?  Do you like or dislike doing so, and why?

I hope to enter the 1936 Sunbonnet Sue quilt, and, when I get it done, the New York Beauty quilt.  I will enter them first in the County and State Fairs, along with the Stars table runner, a nesting bowl set, and the Maxwell House placemat.  After that, AQS somewhere... maybe... or MQX?  QuiltCon?  Houston International?  Paducah?  I want to enter the Americana Eagle quilt in one of the bigger shows, too.

I enjoy entering quilts in competitions... because... well, I’ve always loved competing in just about anything, from math contests to the 100-yard dash to ping-pong to baseball.  I don’t mind the quilt judges’ criticisms; 75% of the time, they’re right, and I try to do better next time.  The other quarter of the time, I think they don’t know what they’re talking about, and don’t worry about it.  I might rant and rave about it, but I won’t worry about it!  heh heh

Some people get their feelings hurt by criticism, so they don’t enter anything in judged shows.  But... I love seeing all the beautiful quilts at the shows, and if all those who didn’t place  or win ribbons neglected to enter, well, that would be a poor quilt show indeed! 

Some of the best ideas I’ve taken from quilt shows have in fact been from quilts that didn’t win a thing.  So many people have such a lot of talent, I’m sure the judges have a mighty hard time deciding which quilt is worthy of what ribbon!  I never begrudge the winners; their quilts appealed to somebody, even if it wasn’t me; but the majority of the time, I have been quite awestricken by the First Place and Grand Prize and Best of Show winners.  And even if I don’t particularly like the top winners, it is invariably obvious that a great deal of top-of-the-line workmanship went into them.

One lady wrote, “My attitude about entering a quilt show is this:  I love to go see the quilts, so I should enter if I am able.  Besides, it’s a great thrill just to see mine hanging at a big quilt show.”

That’s quite true, and that’s why we planned a vacation to Michigan... and a vacation to Florida:  so we could stop in at the Grand Rapids and the Daytona Beach AQS shows.  I didn’t get a ribbon for the Graceful Garden quilt in Grand Rapids or for the Mosaic Lighthouse quilt in Daytona Beach; but the Mosaic Lighthouse quilt made it to the finalist list.  And when we came around the corner and spotted it, there was a large group of people standing there oohing and ahhing over it.  Quite satisfactory, ’twas.  Good fer ze ol’ ego.  😉 😃

One of the quilts that won a big purty ruffled ribbon pendant at one of those shows was smallish, and looked pretty much like a few wadded-up brown paper bags, with green slime – sparkly green slime, mind you – poured over the top of them, with trickles of yellow phlegm highlighting the works.

Victoria, ever ready with an opinion, rumpled her nose, opened her mouth, and started to state her thoughts.  The child, being the youngest of the bunch, never did learn to speak quietly. 

“Hush!” I hissed rapidly, looking around quickly and furtively.  Fortunately, there was no one within hearing distance at the moment.  “What if the lady who made that is right around the corner!?!!  You’ll hurt her feelings!”

Victoria stared at me with those dark brown eyes of hers.  Then she whispered (almost as loud as her regular voice), “Well, somebody ought to feel bad about it.”

“Stop!” I ordered, trying desperately not to smirk.  I rushed off before the impulsive little soul said something else (or before I snickered), glancing back to see where Larry was. 

There he came, a short distance behind us, peering studiously at the glossy site map we’d been given – and grinning broadly at it.

I really don’t think there was anything remotely humorous about that glossy site map.

Larry has used that line of Victoria’s quite a few times since.  At that car show out in Creede, Colorado, last September, somebody had painted a classic ’65 Mustang, just like his first car, neon lime green with purple and orange flames.  (Larry’s was white.)

Larry, staring in horror:  “Somebody ought to feel reeeal bad about this.”

I hurriedly dragged him off before some big burly Mustang owner who’d painted his pony his favorite colors took him down and sat on him.

Moral of the story(ies):  What horrifies us might jolly well give someone else great delight.  ♫ ♪ Oh, it takes all sorts ♫ ♪ la-dee-la-la ♫ ♪ to make the world go round! ♫ ♪ la-deedle-dee-dee ♫ ♪

After doing about half of the top border, I wasn’t sure I liked the feathers that I’d put into the white triangles.  But having done that much, I was pretty well committed to the design, unless I wanted to spend hours – or days, more likely – picking out stitches. I didn’t want to.  So... those feathers march their way all around Jeremy and Lydia’s quilt.

Lydia is the one who once said that I didn’t need to make her a quilt, because ‘quilts don’t match my house’.  hee hee  All quilts look alike, right?

Now, I knew what she meant:  she didn’t particularly care for the ‘country’ quilt I’d made her sister-in-law, and, having seen few different quilts, she decided those just wouldn’t work in her classy house.  Furthermore, she’d just purchased a beautiful satin and lace comforter with matching linens and curtains, and didn’t want to have to remove them to display a quilt she didn’t like as well.

Then, in true Lydia-girl fashion, she called me the next day, all worried that she’d hurt my feelings, and assuring me that there are a lot of quilts she likes, and that she loved the things I make, and on and on. 

I was laughing, “Lydia, Lydia, stop!!  Your mother understands you.”

So she laughed too, and relaxed.

That was several years ago.

So now I’ve set out to prove that Mother can make Lydia a quilt that she not only loves, but that also matches her house.  😊

I’d no sooner decided on cream and white, than Jeremy remarked (as he swept up chocolate birthday cake crumbs), “If you ever make us a quilt, you’ll have to make it in mud and chocolate colors, to match what the boys put on everything.”  🤣😆  (They have three boys, ages 9, 5, and 3, and one girl, age 1 ½.) 

Yesterday after our morning church service, we took a drive south of town to look at the flood damage.  We could see how deep the water had gotten by the debris way up high in the trees.  In some places, it was a good 12 feet or more.  Huge trees were uprooted, and one area of thick woods was wiped clean of trees and vegetation, replaced with white river sand dunes.  The creek in this picture was once a road.

See the spot on this house where the siding is missing?  The waterline was a bit above that mark.  Look at all the debris embedded in the side porch railing.  The windows are broken out, and floodwaters raged straight through that house.

Today a quilting friend wrote, “When I first started quilting (before rotary cutting), my patterns were cut from cardboard and I thought only hand-piecing and hand-quilting were acceptable.  Finally I started piecing by machine, but still thought hand quilting was the only way.  I admit, I’ve changed.  Now I do everything by machine.”

Her note reminded me of a story...  everything reminds me of a story, doesn’t it?  😅

Once upon a time I was standing at a grocery store magazine rack looking at quilting magazines.  Along came a lady, perhaps in her 60s, pushing an elderly lady in a wheelchair who was very likely in her late 80s.  (The lady, not the wheelchair.)  (The wheelchair was probably not a day past ten years old.)

She stared hard at me.  “Do you quilt?!” she inquired imperially.

I smiled at her.  “Yes,” I answered.

“By hand, or by machine?!” she demanded.

“Machine,” I replied.

“Then it’s not real quilting!!!” she snapped authoritatively.

I grinned... couldn’t keep from it.  “Do you travel?” I queried.  (I knew she did – I had seen them unloading her wheelchair from an out-of-state motorhome in the parking lot.)

“Yes,” she responded in a questioning tone.

“Well,” I told her, “It’s not real traveling, unless you go by horse and buggy.”

The woman pushing the wheelchair burst out laughing.  I smiled, wished them a safe journey, and proceeded on my way.

We have a possibility of snow in the forecast, later this week.  But this afternoon it’s 74°, bright and sunny, and the birds are singing their hearts out.

Oldtimers around here talk about the year – some years before I was born – when there was such a gigantic snowstorm in late May, and then such cool weather throughout the month of June, that there was still snow on the ground in the north ditches on the Fourth of July!

Loren and Norma have gone on a little vacation to the mountains.  She texted me from near Stonewall, Colorado, saying they were heading to Trinidad.  Later, she wrote from Raton, New Mexico; they are staying the night there in a campground.

Larry got home from work a little while ago, and now he’s working on the ‘new’ red pickup.  Seems the young man with whom he swapped pickups wasn’t completely honest with him, and that truck has more things wrong with it than he was told.  It’s a wonder it didn’t let us down somewhere in northern Iowa, when we went to get that skid loader a couple of weeks ago.  We still have the title for the Dodge (and we have the title for the red pickup, too).  Larry is asking that they at least give him the money it will cost him for repairs, if they don’t want to trade back again.  It remains to be seen what they will do.  Some people have a remarkably soft-spoken conscience.

Time for supper!  We’re having chicken enchiladas, corn on the cob, peach yogurt, and a golden fruit mixture.  Oh, and strawberry cheesecake ice cream for dessert.

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