Last Tuesday we had a relatively cool day for the first time
in a couple of weeks – it was only 80° by midafternoon. I shipped
off the New York Beauty quilt, via UPS, to Paducah for the Grand Rapids quilt
show. They transport quilts from the AQS
warehouse in Paducah to whatever show location the quilt has been accepted
in. It cost over $30 to ship it! Yikes.
In a few weeks, I will learn if it has been accepted in the
Des Moines show.
That afternoon, on a calm (well,
‘Nebraska’ calm), sunny day, the electricity went off. But it was only for a few seconds, and then it
came back on. That’s the second or third
time that’s happened recently. Maybe
squirrels are cooking S’mores on transformers nearby, and short-circuited the
power lines?
Oh, haha... the Internet has a
picture! I found the picture after I
wrote the above possible scenario.
Honest, I did!
I scanned pictures nearly every day
last week. There are now 30,774 photos
scanned.
Wednesday, as usual, I paused the scanning
at 5:30 p.m. in order to get ready for our midweek church service. It
only takes me 15-20 minutes to get ready, but I prepare early, so that I’m out
of Larry’s way when he comes dashing in from work, needing to shower and dress. We’d hate to go to church on crutches and
canes after crashing into each other, wouldn’t we?
Andrew and Hester invited us over after
the service, as Hester had baked a dish of strawberry-rhubarb crisps for Larry
for Father's Day. She fed us some of the
rigatoni pasta/tomato sauce she’d cooked, and also lettuce salad for me (Larry
has a hard time eating it, ever since he got dentures), with brownies for
dessert.
I pointed at the pretty faucet on Hester’s
kitchen sink, remarking that it was like the new one we’d put on my kitchen
sink.
Then I discovered it had a touch-activated
on/off faucet. That’s not like
mine.
All for Keira’s benefit, I put on a
production of being astonished and amazed every time I touched the thing and water
came pouring out of it.
Grandchildren are wonderful little
people who think their grandparents are hilarious when they’re being utterly
goofy and ridiculous.
While Hester was doing this and that in
the kitchen, we sat down at the dining room table with little Keira. Andrew, meanwhile, was walking around with
Baby Oliver, whose eyelids were getting heavier... and heavier... and
heavier. But every time Andrew’s rounds
took him through the dining room, Oliver’s eyes opened wide, and he stared and
stared at us. Papa, there are aliens
in our house!!!
Hester brewed up some French Vanilla
coffee for us with their Keurig brewer.
She set the cups in front of us... we gave it a try... and then we both
poured a bit of cold water into the coffee, as it was too hot to drink.
Keira, watching this with great
interest, promptly picked up her water glass and carefully poured some – into her
pasta. 😄
Keira doesn’t miss much. Looking at my jewelry, she asked, “Why do you
have on two bracelets?”
“Because I have two arms!” I answered
promptly.
She grinned, though that wasn’t quite
the answer she was after. A few
minutes later, she gestured at my right hand and asked, “Why do you have on two
rings?”
“Because I have two fingers!” I
responded.
She giggled. “Well, but... you don’t have two
fingers, ...” Then she rolled her eyes
and gave that characteristic quick little shake of the head, as though to say, That’s
not exactly what I meant.
I laughed and told her, “It’s because
this ring with the blue sapphires matches my sweater vest, and this one with
the pink coral matches my blouse!”
Keira nodded in that quick way of hers,
smiling at me. That was the
answer she was looking for.
As we were leaving, it suddenly
occurred to Keira, who was heading toward the stairs to go to bed, that she
hadn’t properly told us goodbye. She
came rushing after us, gave Larry a hug, then launched herself at me. I was a couple of steps down the front porch
by then, but I caught her and gave her a big hug. Good thing I didn’t have on high heels, and
good thing Keira isn’t very big! 😂
A few minutes after we left, Hester
send us a text: “Keira says that was the
best night she ever had. 😄 She’s almost 😴💤.”
We stopped by Burger King for some soft-serve
ice cream to go with the strawberry-rhubarb crisps we were taking home. Online and on their sign in the
drive-through, it says ‘Soft-Serve Ice Cream, Cone or Cup, $1.00.’
Larry asked for two cups.
“We don’t have cups of soft-serve,”
said a girl who didn’t seem to have all her marbles rolling in parallel
lanes. “Only cones.”
Larry looked at me, wondering if he’d
heard her correctly.
“Ask her if she can just put ice cream
in one of their drink cups,” I suggested.
He asked, but she couldn’t hear him,
and he rarely repeats himself when people say, “What?” He’s obviously related to Ernest T.
Bass: “I don’t chew my cabbage twice!”
“Just a minute,” she said, “let me go
ask someone.”
After several minutes, the girl came
back to the mic and, with no word of explanation, announced, “That’ll be $1.07.”
Larry started to say okay, but I interrupted
quickly, “Tell her you want two!”
He paused. He doesn’t mind arguing with me, but
he always wants to seem agreeable with everyone else. Finally, in a meek tone, he queried, “Could I
have two of those?”
There was some clattering about, and
then the girl said with some exasperation, “$2.14.”
We received two small clear plastic
glasses, each half full with one small scoop of soft-serve ice cream. 🙄
Here’s another of those pinecones we saw when we were walking
around the pond at Lakeside Park last week:
I’ve never seen pinecones like this, with thorns or
spikes sticking out on all sides. I’ll
betcha seed predators such as birds, chipmunks, or squirrels don’t gather quite
as many of these seeds as they do from the smoother pinecones.
Have you ever heard pinecones pop and crack as the scales
or plates open suddenly on a hot day?
When it’s warm and dry, and the seeds are mature, the
pinecone opens up to release the cone’s seeds. There are certain types of cones that never
open unless they are subjected to fire.
A few days ago, I found a picture of
Loren on the nursing home’s Facebook page, taken (or at least posted) May
13th:
In
scanning old pictures, I came upon this one of Dorcas and Hannah at Twin Lakes,
Colorado, August 07, 1998.
I sent it to both girls, and Dorcas
responded, “That was one of my favorite dresses
ever. Trevor thought there were two of
me at first. 😂”
A couple of people wrote and asked me about the picture of the ‘Dark’ or ‘Blue
Morph’ of the usually-white Snow Goose. This
one had a mate who was snowy white, except for the black tips of its
wings.
The dark color of the Blue Morph Snow Goose (once called
Blue Goose) is controlled by a single gene, with dark being partially
dominant over white. If a pure dark
goose mates with a white goose, the offspring will all be dark (possibly with
white bellies). If two white geese mate,
they have only white offspring. If two
dark geese mate, they will have mostly dark offspring, but might have a few
white ones too. The Blue Morph goose
will molt the same way the white Snow Goose molts and its feathers will come
back in the same color they were in the first place.
Waterfowl replace their old plumage with new feathers at
least once a year. Whistling-ducks,
geese, and swans undergo a single annual molt, replacing all body, wing, and
tail feathers shortly after the nesting season. Most ducks, however, undergo two molts a year.
Molting season for Canada and Snow Geese
typically occurs from early June to late July. Geese that did not breed for the season
usually molt first, while adults with young will molt right before their babies
get their first flight feathers in.
As for migrating, most ducks and geese do migrate; but if
there are enough food sources year around, they might stay in one location. Here in central Nebraska, we have both
migrating and local flocks.
Thursday, the New York Beauty quilt arrived at Paducah. It’s always a relief to see this, after shipping a quilt:
I do hope
‘Dock’ carried the box inside.
Supper Thursday night was roast beef
from Schwan’s, baked potatoes, onions, and carrots. On his way home from Genoa where he was
working on vehicles, Larry stopped at the convenience store in Monroe for some more
soft-serve ice cream to go with the strawberry-rhubarb crisps Hester had given us. I think the soft-serve from that store must
be more ice milk than ice cream, because it is always much colder
than other soft-serve we have gotten – and sometimes it’s a slight bit grainy. Brrrrrr!
In early 2000, Larry mowed and cut
grass at Quail Run, a local golf club. He
also did all the mechanical work on the golf carts and vehicles. With this job came a perk: he could take our whole family to the golf
club after hours, any time he pleased.
So here we are at the golf club with 7
of the children. We took out three
carts: Larry, Victoria, and I were in
the lead; Hester, Caleb, and Teddy are behind us; and Hannah, Lydia, and Joseph
are bringing up the rear.
There’s Larry giving Teddy some pointers as he prepares to hit his first ball: he swung... the ball flew...
and
quicker’n a wink, laughing all the way, Victoria, age 3, went flying after it. She scooped it up and came running back with
it, giggling happily as she came.
The golfers had to aim carefully, because Joseph and his passengers preferred to race around in their golf cart, and Hester rustled up a game of Frisbee with Caleb.
I, meanwhile, crept stealthily around the
pond, camera in hand, getting shots of Canada geese (who evidently hadn’t read
the sign that said ‘QUAIL Run’) and their fluffy yellow babies.
The club owners knew what they were
doing, it seems, when they told Larry he could bring his family to the greens –
AFTER hours! 😂
Friday was
Jacob’s 13th birthday, and Saturday was Lydia’s 31st
birthday.
We gave Jacob a
wooden biplane made of numerous kinds of wood; it used to be Loren’s. We also gave him a Swiss army knife with red
handles, and a book of State quarters with all but four of the coins filled
in. Jonathan, who’s 8 ½, took a look, dashed off into his bedroom, and
came running triumphantly back with one of the missing quarters, which he gave
to Jacob.
We gave Lydia
her things in a decorative, fabric-lined basket: a small ceramic garden rake with flowers
painted on it, knee pads for gardening, a Lilla Rose hair clip with colorful
metallic beads, and a set of a dozen Danbury Mint Nativity ornaments that go
over Christmas lights, so they are illumined.
The Bible verse on the back of each ornament corresponds with the
painting on the front.
A friend and fellow quilter has a son
and daughter-in-law who own a ranch where they raise a few beef cattle and a whole
lot of dairy goats. I love fresh
goatmilk, all frothy and sweet. They
sell goat cheese and cajeta in their Grade A Dairy and Creamery, too, and even
have handmade goatmilk soap.
So I looked at their website – and
discovered that a gallon of goatmilk is now $18.00!! 😯
When Jacksons lived in Trinidad,
Colorado, Larry worked for a goat farmer, milking goats and helping to make cheese. He was 13.
It was just before he and his family moved here to Nebraska. Every morning before school, he would ride
his bike over hill and dale, three miles each way, to the goat farm. He returned immediately after school for the
second daily milking. They milked the goats at 6:00 a.m. and 4:00 p.m.,
and they also milked four cows once each morning.
This was all done by hand – there were no
machines. When the man and his wife learned
that the Jackson were moving to Nebraska, they cried. In addition to just plain liking Larry,
they said he had been their best employee ever.
Not only was he dependable, but his hands were strong enough to do an excellent
job of milking the animals, and he was always gentle with them. They got more milk from their goats and cows
alike when Larry milked them than they ever had before.
Here’s a picture of Larry’s father,
Lyle, when he was about four years old, riding his pet goat. It was taken in about 1940.
A friend was giving a rundown of all the things she was
cooking and baking that day as she prepared for company to arrive later.
“Mmmmm, what a spread you are creating!” I said. “It all sounds absolutely luscious and
scrumptious.”
Saying that reminded me of our now-12-year-old grandson
Levi, who has liked big words since he was barely a year old, just like both of
his parents did before him. But every
now and then, his thesaurus failed him.
So there he was at two years old, trying out some dish his
mama, Hannah, had made: “MMmmmm!” he exclaimed. “This is delicious.” Another bite. “This is scrumptious.” One more bite. “This is dangerous.”
Then his head popped up really fast and he stared around the
table in surprise as both parents, his elder brother, and his elder sister all
burst out laughing.
Saturday, Larry went to
Topeka to pick up a couple of scissor lifts
and a flatbed trailer,
so I went to visit Loren by myself.
He’s always happy to see me, and he was delighted with some
pictures Victoria sent of her three, Carolyn, 4, Violet, 3, and Willie, 4
months, and another of Baby Willie with some of his great-grandparents, who are
good friends of Loren. He recognized
them immediately, though he can’t always come up with names.
His friend Roslyn was nowhere to be seen, and I did not
inquire into her whereabouts. Loren’s
answers to questions – any questions – generally seem plausible and
credible, but are invariably a far departure from reality. It doesn’t even matter if we ask about
something that happened in the last couple of hours; the answer will be farfetched
or complete fantasy. Besides, in case
Roslyn was gone, or was sick, or something else, I figured it would be better
if I didn’t mention her. (Loren thinks
her name is ‘Norma’, and chuckles when the nurses call her ‘Roslyn’, like he
thinks they’re quite silly.)
I took the long way home, driving to Schramm State Park to
take pictures of the Canada goslings that were just fuzzy little balls of fluff
a month ago. They are now almost as
big as their parents, and they sport the telltale white chinstrap of the adults.
Can you spot them?
The south route home, though a lot farther, is much
prettier, over hill and dale and through woods and pastureland and farmland, as
opposed to the almost totally flat landscape all the way from Fremont to
Columbus.
I
crossed the Platte River twice, first at South Bend, and next at North
Bend. Both times, I saw several airboats
on the river. I dislike the horrendous
racket those boats make! I’d rather be
in a kayak, any ol’ day. Larry took some
of us on one, years ago. We all had to wear
noise-canceling earmuffs, and there was absolutely no way of conversing with
one another, the whole way down the river.
I did not enjoy the experience.
I want to hear the birds, maybe see some deer, or raccoons, or
opossums. Why, I’d rather see skunks
waddling alongside the river, than be in an airboat that scares off every living
creature, whether fish, fowl, or fauna!
Those awful things probably scare off the flora, too. 😏
Speaking
of fish, look at the huge fish that was poking his head out of the water,
hoping for a handout at the Gretna Fish Hatchery at Schramm State Park. He was at least twenty inches long – and
there were a whole lot more just like him.
Some were jumping out of the water, but I never managed to catch a shot
of their acrobatics.
Here’s the route I took. Next time, I’ll go farther west before I turn
north. It’s a pretty part of the state.
Sunday was a nice day, 78°, but windy. Robert and Margaret and their daughters –
only two of their children are yet unmarried – are on vacation, and Robert
preached yesterday at a friend’s church in New Mexico. My great-nephew Michael Walker, son of my
late nephew David, had our Sunday School hour.
Bobby then preached for the main service, and his younger brother
Stephen, who is also our school principal, preached for the evening service.
And now... I have laundry to do, dishes
to wash, and some housecleaning to do before I get back to the
photo-scanning. A quilting friend
recently sent me a package of quilting books.
I’m itching to quilt again! Soon,
soon...
,,,>^..^<,,, Sarah Lynn ,,,>^..^<,,,
