Journal: Eat, Drink, and Be Married

 

Last week, my cousin was telling me about her great-grandson having tubes placed in both ears.  He was doing well.

Joseph had tubes put in his ears when he was a little guy of about 3.  He was supposed to take it easy for the rest of the day.  But that afternoon, I heard the kids laughing, looked out the window ---- and there was Joseph, riding his bicycle for the first time without training wheels!

His balance had already improved that much.  (I did go tell him he needed to park that thing and wait until the next day to ride it, for fear he’d fall and dislodge those tubes in his ears.)

Speaking of Joseph, this picture of him just went scrolling through on my screensaver.  He was in first or second grade.  It’s one of my favorites of his school pictures.

Last Monday evening, Victoria and I were texting when Larry came home from work.  He came into the house sorta like a bull in a china closet, all in a giant rush.  He poured himself a cup of orange juice, tipping the jug and making what looked like Lower Falls of the Yellowstone slosh into the cup.  And he was aiming the gusher directly toward my laptop!

I exclaimed, “What in the world!” and jerked the laptop out of the way.

He laughed.  “I’ve been going this speed all day, and can’t get slowed down yet!”

Still texting with Victoria, I relayed all these details as they were happening.  My Mama taught me to do that, you know.  😂  Remember me telling how she taught me to write letters, saying, “Tell people what you’re doing right now, what you can see, what you can hear, what other people are doing around you, and what you think about it.  Tell it just like you would if they were here, and you were talking to them.”

Victoria promptly wrote, “Hi Daddy!” and then “Hi Grandpa” – and sent a picture of Willie, whom she’d told, “smile nice for Grandpa”, whereupon he wrinkled his nose and grinned.

I told this to Larry and showed him the picture of Willie.  Larry, only half-listening, thought we were having an audio chat (which made no sense, since neither of us were saying anything out loud).  So he grinned at Willie and said loudly, “HI, VICTORIA!!”

“Energy drink,” wrote Victoria when I duly reported the goings-on.  Then, “HI!!!!!” she wrote.  And “CAN YOU HEAR ME!!”

Larry allowed as how he’d had one big energy drink.  A short pause, and he admitted to having a second one, later on.

“I wonder what his blood pressure and heart rate have been doing today,” remarked his daughter.

I, playing Middle Man, reported to Victoria her father’s response, “They’ve been working.”  🤣

Several people have asked recently what kind of a quilting machine I have.  It’s an 18” Handi Quilter Avanté on a 12’ Studio frame.  We got it used for $6,000.00.  It was an $11,000 setup when it was new.  Whoever had it before me used it a lot but took good care of it, and I have been very happy with it.  We couldn’t have afforded to get a new one.

It’s hand-guided, not computer-driven.  The computer-driven machines are usually another $10,000.  Whew.  They’re nice, all right, but... whew!  I’m thankful for what I have.  Larry surprised me with the Avanté in mid-December 2017.  Hard to believe it’s been over five years since then!

If money was no issue, I’d like a little bigger machine, as the 18” Avanté gives me about a 14” width to quilt – and that means that with big blocks or blocks on point, I must roll the quilt forward to complete a block; I can’t do it all at once.  On the other hand, I’m only 5’ 2”, so I might change my mind about a bigger machine, once I’d try it.  It’s a stretch with this machine to, for instance, put a cone of thread on the holder while standing at the front of the machine, or to do detailed quilting near the back take-up bar.  Standing on tiptoes too long makes my feet protest!

So... I just go on being thankful for what I have.  😊

Tuesday afternoon, I picked up a grocery order at Wal-Mart, brought it home, and put everything away.  One of the strawberries in the pack was as big as an apple!  Wow.  Don’t know if I’ve ever seen such a big strawberry.  That one strawberry and a small cup of strawberry-watermelon juice (no sugar added), and that’s enough for my afternoon snack.  I don’t always have a mid-afternoon snack (heaven knows, I don’t need one); but... Big strawberry!!!  Strawberry-watermelon juice!  So... snack.  (Plus, it was scrumptious, into the bargain.)

Then up the stairs I went to do some quilting.

From then until well after midnight, I plowed through the worst of the trouble spots in the Biblical Blocks quilt.  No amount of starch and steam could prevent a few tucks and rumples.  So there they are, in all their glory.

This first block is called ‘Bethlehem Rose’, 

and the second is ‘Cross within a Cross’.  

Below are the problem areas in that blue inner border.  The right side is worse than the left.  There was a good inch of excess fabric, not in the length of the border, but the width.  The left corner is not at all square, as the mitered corner seam is too deep at the outer point.

Elaine cut that blue fabric carefully, and sewed it together to match the gold stripes.  I tried to keep the tucks from ruining that effect, letting them wind up at the top of the blue border and into the big red triangle, where I hoped they wouldn’t be as noticeable.  Makes me wish I’d have taken it farther apart and tried to fix it; but I really don’t know if I could’ve corrected it or not, since the blocks weren’t squared up individually.  And there were no extra pieces of that blue fabric.

I’ll betcha this was why Elaine put it away unfinished, all those years ago, whataya bet?

Well.  It’s not going to be perfect, by any means; but it’s a-gonna be a quilt!

This block is called ‘Star of the Magi’.  Look at the careful fussy cutting she did for each of those colored patches.

I posted pictures on my blog and my Facebook page.

“How come you didn’t do a mariners [sic] compass block?” demanded the ‘Choke-Berries’-Will-Kill-You Woman.

“As previously explained,” I responded, “this is not my quilt.”  (She knew that; she had commented on previous posts of the quilt.)  “I am finishing it for the elderly grandmother of one of my daughters-in-law.  She started it years ago using the pattern ‘Biblical Blocks’ by Rosemary Makhan.  A Mariner’s Compass block is not included in this booklet.”

Do I sound testy?  I felt testy.  She is such an abrasive person.  She’s the one who writes beloved King James Version verses on her Facebook page – and then proceeds to argue with them!  She even argues with points the Lord Jesus Himself made during His Sermon on the Mount.  Jesus said, “And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men.  Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.”

She wrote, “How can that be right?!  I think we should pray EVERYWHERE.  We’re supposed to ‘Pray without ceasing’!”

Good grief.  After reading that, I feel testy if she so much as wiggles her big toe.

She answered my explanation about the quilt with a color-flashing gif that read, “OK.”

She wasn’t satisfied with that, though, and she soon added, “P.s. you could do a mini mariner [sic] block for the label...because that quilt needs the compass...it’s traditional to always [sic] put a mariners [sic] compass on such a quilt...without a compass a boater or seagoing person would be loss [sic]. They go with lighthouses you see. You could do one as the label just saying.”

I didn’t answer, since the only things I could think of saying were less than nice.

This block is called ‘Hosanna’, and is intended to look like the palm branches the children were waving as they cried ‘Hosanna’ as Jesus made His ‘Triumphal Entry’ into Jerusalem the week before He was crucified.

The next block is called ‘Crown of Thorns’.

A friend, after seeing the picture of my big strawberry, wrote the following comment:  “I just came with a strawberry story.  My grandfather was an avid gardener.  He took pride in his growing abilities and gave numerous veggies to friends and relatives but also entered ‘prize’ veggies and fruits into local contests.  He once grew a prize strawberry like this – as big as his hand!  Had it all set out to show off at a contest – ’til my mother ate it.  🤣🤣🤣💚 ”

“That’s hilarious!” I answered (though I don’t imagine her grandfather thought it was so funny).  “He didn’t disown the child, did he?”  😂

Wednesday, I had just clambered out of the shower when my phone rang.

It was the piano tuner, and he thought we had an appointment that day, and he was prepared to show up in two minutes flat!!!  Aiiiyiiiieeee.  He thought he had talked with me last week and set up an appointment, but I had never talked with him before.  I was not at all ready to let company (or a piano tuner) in the house.

I told him this, wondering if he had mixed me up with one of my daughters or daughters-in-law.  When I added his number to my contact list, I was then able to check for previous calls from that number, and discovered I had a missed call from him on April 18^th.  He had not left a voicemail, though.

I apologized several times for the mix-up, but I truly was not ready to meet someone at the door in two minutes!  🥴😐😕  If I would’ve just had 30 minutes notice, I could’ve been ready.  Sorta.  Ready enough.

After texting the girls, I learned that he had tuned Maria’s piano (my first grand piano) at 11:00, and Victoria’s before that.  I’m glad he at least had two pianos to tune, to make the trip to Columbus worth his while.  I didn’t want to mess up his schedule and his profits!  ☹️

That afternoon as I was quilting away, I happened to glance out my north dormer window, and discovered that the neighbors’ redbud tree across the lane was in full bloom.

After church that evening, we had a quick supper, and then I went back to quilting.  I quit a little after 1:00 a.m., when I had finished the last row of the Biblical Blocks.  There were four more borders to go (and a couple of blocks in the corners).  There were several ripply patches in those blocks, but I managed to avoid any tucks.  It would be fairly smooth sailing from then on.

This block is called ‘Jacob’s Ladder’.  There are two ‘Jacob’s Ladder’ blocks in the quilt; the other one is near the top.  This was one of the four extras, and Elaine evidently made a new one because this one wound up at only 8 ½” instead of 9 ½” (unfinished size).  This is the one I had to add sashing to.  And... either the sashing had to be lopsided, or the block had to be trimmed lopsided.  I chose to lopside (should be a word) the sashing instead of the block. 

Thursday, I heard a bird whistling his heart out in the bush just outside the window.  It was similar to the white-crowned sparrow’s song, but at a different pitch, and with a few more syllables on the low notes.  I crept over to the window and peered out – and there was a Harris’ sparrow sitting on a Boston Ivy vine.  The Harris’ sparrow is the biggest sparrow in North America.  It is just passing through, and will in a month or two be nesting in the tundra of north-central Canada.

Red-winged blackbirds and common grackles were on the feeders on the back deck, and they were often joined by house finches, goldfinches, English sparrows, Northern cardinals, downy woodpeckers, and red-breasted and white-breasted nuthatches.  When the blue jays come swooping in, though, all the smaller birds except for the downy woodpeckers depart quickly.  Now and then common grackles show up.  They are not afraid of the blue jays, and, for the most part, they leave each other alone.

All day Thursday and most of the day Friday, diesel fumes kept drifting into the house.  Ugh, that odor gives me a headache.  I could hear a motor running somewhere at a distance.  It was a little too far away to be sure, but I think it was a tractor.  Farmers have been planting.  Just a couple of days ago, I saw tiny green sprouts in the rows of a cornfield.

I started the essential oil diffuser going with lemongrass in it; so soon there was a heavy pall of lemon-scented diesel fumes.  🤢

Larry thinks if you just add enough of another smell, you will wipe out the objectionable odor.  I, however, am then assaulted by two aromas instead of one.

Thursday evening at about 8:00 p.m., I finished quilting the Biblical Blocks quilt.  This block is called ‘Heavenly Stars’.  It’s the one that was 10” and had to be trimmed.  It lost a few points in the ordeal; but I think it’s pretty, even so.

I didn’t want to waste those four extra blocks Elaine had made, so I put them in the corners of the quilt.  I had to add the red border in order to make the blocks fit.

This photo shows that I had more than enough green thread for this quilt.  Ha!  😬

Realizing I was half starved half to death, I took a little time out to eat supper, and then started putting the binding on the quilt.  I usually eat supper at about 7, but when I’m alllllmost done with a quilt, I hardly want to stop.  Sometimes Larry arrives home from work earlier than expected, wanting to eat quickly and head off to Genoa to work on vehicles.  If whatever I’d planned to cook for supper is still in the freezer, we shuffle through the cupboard for a can of Campbell’s soup.

That evening, I mailed a birthday card to my niece Susan, who, with her husband Charles, is still in Scottsdale, Arizona, undergoing a specialized treatment for cancer.  She will be 50 on the 10^th.  My sister Lura Kay will be 83 on the 17^th.

A friend, reading what I had written about finishing the quilt, having gotten soooo close to being done, and thereby eating a late supper, agreed, “Those are the times when you decide to push on to suddenly find it is after 3:00 a.m. and you are still there in the quilting studio!!”

“Yep, that’s me,” I replied.  “But you don’t think 3:00 a.m. is an odd time to be quilting, do you??”

“Perfect time to be quilting for me,” she answered.  “Who doesn’t do that???”  😄

It’s so quiet and peaceful at that time.  No one knocking on the door... no one calling on the phone... just the occasional owl hooting... foxes yipping... coyotes howling... frogs ribbeting… rabbits shrieking...

Uh, did I say ‘peaceful’?

By 5:30 p.m. Friday, the binding was on the quilt.  It was all done!  I took pictures of it on the deck, then put it into the washing machine to remove starch and marking lines, and to make it acquire that soft, crinkly, heirloom feeling.

The quilt doesn’t lie perfectly flat, as I expected it wouldn’t; but it’s almost perfectly square, surprisingly.

One of those red pieces in the middle was too floofy (it’s a perfectly good word; Microsoft Word should not put a red wiggly line under it!), and I sincerely hoped I had not scorched it.  

At 6:30 p.m., the washer played its little jingle, informing me that the cycles were complete.  I scurried into the laundry room... pulled the quilt from the machine... AND!!! that red section I was worried about looked and felt perfectly fine and dandy!  Whew, what a huge relief that was.

I had spun the quilt on the washer’s medium-gentle setting, so it was quite wet.  I set the dryer on ‘cool dry’, so it took a good 45 minutes to get dry.

And then I was pulling it from the dyer, all warm and soft and crinkly, smelling delightful.  Perfect for cuddling up in!

Of course, the tucks will always be tucks, but they were remarkably hard to notice.  I was very glad I had opted to make sure those gold lines continued to match at the miter, rather than making any attempt to ‘ease’ all that fullness into the border! 

Here is a complete recap of this quilt’s story:

My daughter-in-law Amy found the partially-done quilt and the pieces that went with it when she and other members of the family were helping her grandparents clean their house, which had gotten out of hand, especially after a water leak. The fabric smelled mildewy, and Amy considered throwing it out; but then, seeing that it was Moda, one of the better quilting fabrics, she decided to carefully wash it.  It came out beautifully.

Amy asked me if I would finish it, and I said I would be glad to.  The elderly couple, who have been friends of ours ever since I can remember, are not well, and I was pleased to be able to do something for them.  When our children were still living at home (we have 9), Elaine would sometimes bring us produce from her garden, or something she had baked.

After their house was clean, Elaine began asking if anyone had seen her ‘lighthouse quilt’.  No one had seen a lighthouse quilt.  BUT!!! – a couple of weeks ago when I pulled out all the pieces from the tote they were in, lo and behold, I discovered that the outer border, already cut, was a lighthouse print!  We think this must be the quilt Elaine was worrying about.  If it is, she started it before Teddy and Amy were married in 2002, planning to give it to them as a wedding gift, as they had a nautical theme in their house.  (We had earlier thought Elaine had started the quilt in the early 1980s; but we now think that’s probably wrong.)

She did not know I was finishing it.  We did not want her to be troubled all over again, wondering if it would be completed properly, or if it was actually the quilt she was worried about, or if she would get it back soon.

This quilt pattern, Biblical Blocks, by Rosemary Makhan, was not an easy pattern.  I think Elaine cut all the pieces with scissors rather than a rotary cutter, which would explain why some of the patches were not uniform.  The pattern uses 16 blocks in the quilt, and there are a number of alternate blocks.  Elaine had made 20 blocks.  16 of them were partially put into rows, and one of the rows was attached to the central Tree of Life section.  Four were unused, probably because they were of varying sizes, from 8 ½” to 10”.  Not wanting them to go to waste, I added a skinny sashing to the 8 ½” block and trimmed the 10” block.  The too-big one lost a bit of its points, but it’s still pretty, I think!  I then set these four blocks into the corners of the quilt.  I had to add the red border in order to make them fit.  The other borders were already cut.

The blue inner borders, in particular, had proved troublesome for her, what with the points of the first one being hand-sewn onto the next, and that second one having mitered corners.  When I see how striking and lovely the quilt has turned out, I kind of wish I had’ve dismantled it a little more and tried to fix that mitered border that caused so much trouble, and which was very likely the reason for the quilt being put aside, unfinished.  But... there was no more of that particular blue fabric; I just don’t know if redoing it would’ve done any good or not.

So... I doused the trouble spots with starch... pressed with a hot iron... and quilted as best I could.  There are a few unavoidable tucks, and the quilt does not lie perfectly flat; but it’s square, surprisingly enough.

Anyway, too late for regrets!  It’s done.  

Quilt details:

The quilt measures 97 ½” x 97 ½”.  The batting is Quilters’ Dream wool.  There are several different colors of thread in the top.  Some is Omni 40-wt., some is Signature 40-wt., and some is So Fine 50-wt.  I used Bottom Line 60-wt. in the bobbin.  It was quilted with rulerwork and free-motion.  I spent 54 hours finishing this quilt, with 41½ of that in the quilting.  But I’ll bet Elaine spent at least three or four times that many hours cutting and piecing all the blocks.

Early Saturday afternoon, Amy stopped by and picked up the quilt.  She would take it to Elaine a little later.

While she was here, Hannah called Larry.  She and Bobby were on their way home from the hospital, and were just stopping at the drug store for medication for Bobby ------ because he had fallen off an 8-foot wall in Lindsay where his crew was working, and hurt his knee quite badly, tearing tendons and ligaments.  Larry had met the ambulance on his way home, a few minutes earlier.  This injury is going to take a while to heal, I fear.

Soon I was on my way to Omaha to visit Loren.  It was a nice day, but hazy on account of the wind blowing dust from the fields into the sky.

When I arrived at Prairie Meadows, one of the nurses told me that there was a new resident, and Loren likes her.  ‘Pursuing her’ are the words the nurse used.  😏

I found him eating supper in the dining room, seated at a table with a couple of other men.  He happily greeted me and asked, “Did Mama tell you what’s going on with me?”

I said, “Nope!”

He was quite surprised.  “I thought she would’ve told you!”

{She has neglected to tell me anything about him for nearly 20 years.}

Then he grinned and informed me, “I got married!”  He couldn’t remember her name, though.  Pauline?  (That’s a late aunt of ours.)  No... hmmmm... he couldn’t remember.

I really, really wanted to point out a young male member of the staff (always friendly and nice, and right then working hard to make sure everyone had a plate of food) with tight black curls sticking straight out from his head in all directions, and ask Loren if that was the chaplain who had ‘married’ him.  But I curtailed my devilment.

Instead, I talked about the weather.  And birds.  And gas mileage.  And gas price.  And the weather.  And about grandson Levi, 12, who was texting right that minute to ask how Loren was, which pleased Loren.  And about Larry, who was working on a pickup.  And the weather.  And about Bobby hurting his knee.  (Loren felt bad about that.)  And the weather.  🌞😎🌦☀️🌅 And the newspapers and magazines I’d brought him.  And the weather.

And we watched a pretty little 80-year-old lady (give or take a few years) who is particularly prone for throwing big, bad tantrums throw a big bad tantrum when the staff tried to gently escort her from the dining room after she finished eating and tried to go into the kitchen.  

“GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN!” she shrieked, pummeling anyone who got close to her.  “I NEVER LET ANYONE WHO TRIES TO BOSS ME AROUND COME INTO MY KITCHEN!”

Several staff members working together took her out, wailing like a banshee (the lady, not the staff members), probably getting themselves some nasty bruises in the process as she punched and swatted at them, and used her walker as a weapon of warfare.  Yet they never failed in their matter-of-fact, kind manner and their gentleness.  This is what I see at that care center; I’ve never seen anything different.

“What do you think is the matter?!” Loren asked me with some concern, after watching the show for a few minutes.

“Looks like a case of ‘the spirit isn’t willing, and the voice box isn’t weak’, to me,” I told him, which set him to laughing.

One of the nurses, who, unbeknownst to me was standing directly behind my chair, overheard me, and went on giggling, trying not to, and giggling some more.

“It’s a Bible verse!” I added, giving Loren a reproving look.  “I may have paraphrased, though,” I finished.

“You may have,” he nodded, still laughing.

Would you believe, that woman’s name is ‘Karen’?  I kid you not.  (I hate that stupid fad of calling nasty, fit-throwing women ‘Karens’; but it still struck me funny when I realized the nurses were calling her ‘Karen’.)

I often think and pray, “Dear Lord, let me keep my wits about me.  It doesn’t look like much fun, acquiring dementia.  And it certainly isn’t much fun for the loved ones of a dementia patient.”

As Vance Havner said, meaning the same thing, “O Lord, let me get home before dark!”

And as for the quilt?

Amy reported this:

“Grandma was thrilled.  She does not remember making the quilt at this point.  She said the one she was looking for she thought wasn’t country colors but that she didn’t ever remember making another quilt.  So it’s possible this is the one.  She understood that you had a lot of time invested into it.  We hung it on a quilt rack that she had at the end of her bed.”

And here’s a picture Amy took.

I really am awfully happy Elaine likes the quilt, never mind whether or not she remembers it.

Whew!  Other than working in my flower gardens, I am now finally free to work on the grandchildren’s quilts!  It’s been a long time coming, this ‘freedom’.  I haven’t done any cutting and piecing since July of 2021!  Quilting, but not cutting and piecing.  I like cutting and piecing.  I shall cut and piece!  Lord willing, that is.  Lord willing, I shall cut and piece.  😀

Loren thinks he got married (and Mama is still alive), Elaine is happy with her quilt (whether she remembers it or not), and I shall cut and piece (Lord willing).

That evening, Amy sent me this picture, asking, “Did you see the clouds to our south?”

I had not seen them!  I grabbed my camera and dashed out, but they weren’t that way anymore.  Here's one of my shots:

Amy sent another picture taken earlier, so pretty, with sunbeams shining through the clouds.  

It reminded me of a story, which I proceeded to tell her:

For a while, when I was little, I’ll Be A Sunbeam was my favorite song.  Nobody noticed, but I was playing it on my little toy grand piano.  The black notes were only painted on, so if I started playing in a key that required a black note, I’d hum that note good and loud.  It was such a racket, I’m sure, nobody realized I was actually playing songs.  😅

Later that evening, it occurred to me that maybe the reason Elaine doesn’t recognize the colors of this quilt, or thinks the one she was doing ‘wasn’t country colors’, is because she is unable to see as she used to.  

She told Amy that she never finished the one she is thinking of, because she ran out of fabric.  We noticed that in her notes that were paperclipped inside the pattern booklet, she had written the names of quilt shops all around here (Seward, York, Hastings, Yankton, Grand Island...) and different websites, too.  So it appeared she was looking for fabric.  She had also written something about making a dust ruffle.

Maybe it was for that, and the backing, and possibly for the appliqué that’s in the pattern, that she needed fabric? – because there was plenty to finish the top; I only needed to buy fabric for backing.

“I wonder if after she looks at the quilt for a while, it will come back to her,” said Amy.

“Did she look at the pattern booklet?” I asked.  “That might help her remember, too.”

“A little,” Amy answered.  “I left it beside her, so she can look at it.”

Ah, well.  Whatever the story is, I’m very happy to have finished a quilt for her.

A quilting friend, after complimenting my work on Elaine’s quilt, asked, “Do you hide you knots as you go?”

I think the answer to that is, “What knots?”  🤣

I thanked her, and then replied, “Don’t tell anybody, but I take a few tiny stitches in place or a slight backstitch and then cut the threads close.  Shhhhh...  The quilt police are aghast at such tactics.”

Teddy arrived on his electric scooter to collect some of his meat from our freezer.  I noticed him out front, thought it was Larry – and then realized that that wasn’t Larry’s helmet – and then spotted the scooter.  I watched as he worked... and worked... and worked... at the strap on his helmet. 

I walked to the door, opened it, and called out, “Need some scissors?”  hee hee

Mothers should always be helpful with their grown sons.

He finally got loose from the thing and came in.

Yesterday after our morning service, we had lunch with Kurt and Victoria.  Victoria fixed the most delicious chicken salad, with pecans and sliced red grapes in it, and lots of well-blended spices. 

Halfway through the meal, Larry asked for a paper towel.

“We don’t have any paper towels,” Victoria told him, walking over to the counter, “but we do have flannel, washable towels.”  She handed him one.

He looked at it.  Then, “I think this is a bib!” he announced, making everyone, especially Kurt, laugh.

The little girls stopped eating, the better to watch Grandpa.

Crabapple blossoms

He wiped his fingers, then tucked the small flannel thing into the neck of his shirt.  Carolyn promptly dissolved into giggles.  😄😂

So, Saturday night I said I would finally be able cut and piece a new quilt.

Then came Sunday morning.

I went upstairs to the long closet in the little library where I hang my church clothes — and suddenly noticed what was lying there on the little twin bed:  the pink, black, and white quilt Amy had found at a secondhand store somewhere.  The batting, backing, and binding are lying there, too.  It’s ready to be loaded on the quilting frame.

Sigh.  I’ll do a pantograph (custom quilting wouldn’t show up on that modern-print fabric anyway), and it’ll take me half a day to quilt, and a couple of hours to bind.

But one of these days, I’m a-gonna cut and piece!  Yep.  One of these days.

Before leaving for Omaha, I had promised Levi I would take a few pictures just for him.  And whataya know, there must’ve been a vintage car show in Bennington or another nearby town, because I met a whole squadron of old cars as I headed south toward Omaha.  The icing on the cake was the yellow, green, and red tour bus I encountered just north of Omaha.  Its name is on the yellow sign on the front of the bus:  ‘Buttercup’.  (I think it looks more like the flag of Lithuania than a buttercup.)

I sent the pictures to Levi last night.  He wrote back, and we discussed his father’s injury and a few of our own.

“Have you had sprains or broken bones before?” he asked me.

“Yep and yep,” I answered.  “Neither were much fun.”

“I’ve had only a sprain,” he told me.  “But bone bruises are nasty, too.”

“I was limping along with a cane right before Hester and Andrew’s wedding,” I said.  “And then Andrew got hurt so badly, and I felt like a wimp, whining around about nothing more than a sprained ankle.

“I broke my arm roller skating on those stupid clip-on skates when I was 13,” I went on.  “I was standing still, the wind gusted, the warped axle flipped, and down I went.

“I’ve broken my nose twice (actually, Joseph’s head and then Victoria’s head when they were little did it for me), and various smaller toes multiple times.  And I’ve sprained my wrists a few times, always in the noble pursuit of running headlong for... uh, Honolulu? or whacking a volleyball – sometimes one of those giant ones that was as big as me,” I finished.

“I got a bone bruise when riding a hoverboard,” said Levi.  “I tried to stop quickly, the hoverboard stopped, I didn’t, and found myself tasting the concrete with my right elbow.  I could hardly write for a week.”

He has the funniest way of putting things.

Since I was so well entertained by our Vice President last week, Hannah sent me an Instagram video clip with more of her claptrap:

“The median age on the continent of Africa is 19!”  (said with a grinny face and a tone of total delight – “Nineteeeeeen!!!”)  

“By 2050, one in four people occupying space on Mother Earth will be on the continent of Africa.”  

“Think about what that means!  In terms of the opportunity!  In terms of the future!  In terms of the obvious fact!  I believe, as evidenced by the demographics I’ve just shared, which is what happens on that continent (stabbing an index finger forward multiple times like a Northern flicker unearthing a worm from the ground) will impact the entire globe!”

Somebody commented, “Does she realize she’s occupying space on Mother Earth; or does she think she’s still on her home planet?” 

After considerable consideration, I have decided that what she’s trying to say is that Mother Earth will be lopsided with all those people in Africa, and the entire continent will fall off the earth and land on either Venus or Mars, depending on which way the earth is spinning at the moment.

More comments under the video: 

“me trying to hit the 1000 word minimum on my english paper”

“You know, rocks are all Popsicles.  Not cool aid though, because being aided isn’t cool.  But hot dogs plus cats means that love is bad, so therefore we should demolish that statue over there.  Thank you!  😍”

And the answer to that:  “This actually makes more sense.  😂”

I spent a couple of hours working in the flower gardens this morning.  The lily-of-the-valley is in bloom.

A friend asked me what my favorite flower is.  I don’t really have a favorite, though I love columbine because it reminds me of the mountains, where they grow in profusion... and I love lily-of-the-valley, because Jesus is called the Lily-of-the-Valley, and I love the old hymn by that name, and because the little bells are so delicate and yet smell so alluring.  But I do love a great many flowers.  Here are several iris buds:

I’ve pulled out some of the scenic quilt panels I purchased for the purpose of making quilts for the grandchildren, along with some matching fabrics; and I’ve started designing a quilt in EQ8.  I have not yet decided whose quilt will be first, but I’m leaning towards making some of the little girls’ quilts first, for this reason:  the fabrics I’ve bought with them in mind are for little girls.  And those little girls have this disconcerting habit of growing and getting older!  It’s a constant problem.  Our oldest grandchild is 22; our youngest is 15 months.

The fabrics I have for most of the boys, other than the two who are 15 months, would be suitable at any age.  So...

The thing is, I don’t want anyone to think I’m playing favorites.  So I’ll just have to get them all done as quickly as possible, right?

Next, there’s the decision of who gets what.  A lot of that will definitely have to be ‘luck of the draw’.  Maybe I should tell the kids that if they want to trade quilts, and if and only if they are absolutely certain the other guy wants to trade, too, then by all means, go ahead and trade away!

The chokecherry (not ‘choke berry’) blossoms smell wonderful.  When the tree is entirely in bloom, the entire yard – and house, if I open the windows – smells good.

And now I’d better go to bed.  Tomorrow morning will be another very nice time to work in the flower gardens.

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