Last Monday
morning, I spent a couple of hours working in the flower gardens – and that was
the only time I worked out there all week.
Three mornings, it was too, too hot.
Other mornings, it was raining, or thundering and lightningingining. Uh, that is, ‘There was thunder and
lightning.’ There we go.
I got
the majority of a big lilac bush that had died removed, and Larry got the rest of
the stump out later – he just pulled it up with his bare hands! The roots were mostly decayed, but I certainly
couldn’t get that thing out of the ground.
My
brother unwittingly killed both of the reblooming lilac bushes, one on either
side of the porch, when he ‘trimmed’ them a few years ago in order to make room
for his ladder when he decided to do us a favor and clean out our gutters. I walked out onto the porch to see what in
the world was happening and was amazed and dismayed to see that his aggressive
‘trimming’ had removed the main central trunk of those big, nice bushes, which
had just gotten old enough to actually rebloom in the autumn. I knew they would not survive that pruning.
The one
on the east side of the porch finally croaked a couple of years ago, and Larry
removed it in the spring of 2022. The
one on the west bravely offered half a dozen blossom clusters last spring, but
that was its last gasp, poor thing.
Perhaps I’ll replace them this fall with snowball bushes. Or maybe lilac bushes again. I really did love the aroma of those
lilacs wafting into our front windows in the springtime. Jeremy’s father Tim gave them to us when we
first moved out here.
I also
removed a whole lot of Boston Ivy that had grown all over the dead lilac bush
and along the side of the house, and into one of the rose bushes. Ugh, that stuff is as bad as kudzu, in soil
like ours! I have a large Gorilla cart
for gardening, and I heaped that thing high with refuse about five times (or
was it six?) and dumped it on the far side of the property. The Rose of Sharon hibiscus that always leafs
out so late it makes me wonder if it’s alive is now covered with blossoms. Victoria planted it back in... hmmm... 2015? It was about a foot tall when she brought it
home from Earl May Gardening Center where she worked. Now it’s about 9 feet tall.
Hannah came visiting for a little while, along with Levi and both dogs, Australian
shepherds Chimera and Willow. The last
time Chimera was here, which was well over a year ago, we still had Tiger; and
the time before that, we had both Tiger and Teensy. So he was trotting quickly around, looking in
all the rooms, up the stairs, in the laundry room – until Hannah said, “Are you
looking for the cats? They aren’t
here. They went ’bye.”
Chimera stopped,
stared at her, and then went and sat down with his ears at half-mast, totally
deflated. haha Those dogs are smart as can be, and
understand a whole lot of words.
By 7:00
p.m., the
quilting was done on Brooklyn’s Little Sweethearts quilt, and by a quarter
after 7, it was trimmed and removed from the frame. I wonder if Dorcas (Brooklyn’s mama) will notice that
some of the fabrics in the borders are the same as the fabrics in the Baskets
of Lilies quilt I made for her and Todd?
😊
That
evening, Larry went with me to pick up the groceries I’d ordered from
Wal-Mart. They filled the entire back of
the Mercedes, and it took us a while to carry them into the house and put them
all away. The refrigerator and freezer went
from nearly empty to stuffed full.
That
done, I went back to my sewing room and attached the binding to the front of
the Little Sweethearts quilt, then pinned it to the back side. And that was enough; it was bedtime.
I got
10,035 steps on my VeryFitPro watch that day.
About the time I might’ve headed outside to work in the yard Tuesday
morning, I realized that the rumble I was hearing was thunder. Soon it was thundering and lightninginginging
(I never know when to stop, once I start typing that word), and we got a bit of
rain. Someone on Facebook posted this
picture, taken 65 miles to our north.
By a quarter ’til midnight that day, the Little Sweethearts quilt was all finished,
and so was the little pillow. The quilt measures 57” x 57”; the pillow is
10½” x 10½”. The batting is Quilters’ Dream wool. There are six
colors of 40-wt. thread on top, including Superior’s Omni (ice blue, butter
yellow, natural white), King Tut (variegated fuchsia), Signature (dark brown),
and Gutermann (tan). There’s 60-wt. fuchsia Bottom Line thread on the
back. The fabric in the Attic Windows is part of the Little Darlings collection
by Henry Glass Fabrics.
A friend’s Facebook post was ‘hidden’ by
Facebook, with the notice “False Information” over the top of it. I clicked “See anyway” – and discovered she’d
posted this: “The problem is not guns;
it’s hearts without God, homes without discipline, schools without prayer, and
courtrooms without justice.”
False information indeed, ha. The godless Facebook techs have even programmed
their policing bots to hate the very mention of God’s name. Even unbelievers know – though they might not
admit it – that the more godless a nation becomes, the lower its morals and
principles sink. All through history,
this has always been the case.
From about
midnight Tuesday night until 8:30 Wednesday morning, our windows were so
steamed up we couldn’t see out of them. I
went out late to bring in the bird feeders, and my glasses promptly steamed up.
🤓 The humidity was hovering at 99%-100%.
At 8:45
a.m. Wednesday, it was 81° with a heat index of 91°. The humidity had gone down to 77% for the
time being. We’d been issued a high-heat
warning that would last until Friday.
The temperature was expected to get up to 98° that day, with a heat
index of 106°; and it would be even hotter the next couple of days. I always worry about my menfolk – husband,
sons, sons-in-law, grandsons, and a whole lot of nephews and great-nephews –
who work outside in weather like that. It
wasn’t as hot here as some areas of the country were, but still hot enough to
be dangerous.
At one
of the farms where Larry was picking up forms from a job they had done, a
couple of trucks were picking up cows that had died from heatstroke. Each truck held about 40 cows.
This is more likely to happen at feedlots where the cattle are grouped more tightly together – and for some reason, cows press together instead of spreading out, thus increasing their temperatures all the more. On bigger ranches, there’s more likely to be shade from trees; and some ranchers put up portable shade structures. These help a lot.
Teddy has one
similar to this one for his cows:
I
believe the end and the side coverings can be removed to increase airflow.
Some
farmers and ranchers turn on misters to cool the cattle. That works, too; but in a feedlot it can
create a mud-lolly that might be as much of a hazard to the cows as the
heat. Severe weather makes things hard
for ranchers and their animals.
That day,
I backed up all my latest data to my external hard drives, and then started on
the six quilt labels I needed to make. I
had about 2 ½ labels done by the time I was ready to head out the door to
church. Larry called to say he was just
leaving a job near Howells, some 45 miles to the northeast; he would not make
it to church.
I
thought the clematis had put out its last blossom of the season, but I was
totally mistaken. After two or three
good rains, the clematis now has at least a dozen new blooms on it. The daylilies are still blossoming, and the
poor little bedraggled Double Knockout roses are knocking themselves out. The tall phlox are just getting started, and
are putting on brilliant displays all over the yard.
Four o’clocks
were the very first flowers I ever grew, back when I was about 7 or 8 years old.
Someone gave me some seeds, and my
mother let me remove a little patch of grass in our back yard along the fence
line. I tended that little plot
diligently, and wound up with a tiny garden plumb full of colorful flowers –
and they did indeed open at 4 o’clock every afternoon, just like, well, like clockwork,
which totally charmed me. I loved
those flowers so much.
The next
year, someone gave me some decorative gourd seeds. It wasn’t long before I had gourd vines
growing the length of the fence. I, a
budding entrepreneur, started selling them to our friends – until my father
found out. No, we don’t sell gourds,
inedible ones at that, to the parishioners, who doubtless bought them just
because they felt obligated to do so! Oops.
When I
got home from church, I fixed myself a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich for
supper. I only have one slice of toast
with it, but pile on the rest of the ingredients. Larry has trouble eating such things because
of his dentures. If he really loves
something, he struggles his way through it anyway. But he has never loved BLT sandwiches as much
as I do. Instead, he ate the breaded,
deep-fried fish and eggplant that his friend Mark had sent home with him the
previous night. He reheated the food under
the broiler in order to crisp it again. The
fish consisted of walleye, bass, and black crappie that Mark had caught at a nearby
lake, and the eggplant was grown in Mark’s garden. Mmmm, it was so good. The fish and eggplant, even after we had
eaten our fill the night before, filled a large Tupperware container, and
Larry, as Larrys are oft wont to do, recooked the whole works. So I had two pieces of fish and two pieces of
eggplant, even though I was already full, in order to not let it go to
waste. We had fresh fruit salad (strawberries,
blueberries, blackberries, Thompson grapes, and banana slices) for dessert.
When supper
was over, I trotted back upstairs to finish the label that had been about half
done before church. I forgot to add
‘with love’ on Violet’s label, so then I had to leave it off of her sister
Carolyn’s and brother Willie’s labels, so as not to seem partial to one sibling. 😏 I’ll write lots of loves, hugs, and kisses on
their cards. They know we love them
oodles and kaboodles.
Late Thursday
morning, the temperature was 86°, felt like 95°, and was on its way up to 98°. I went out to fill the bird feeders, and
decided that, yes, it most certainly did feel like 95°. I did a wee bit of housecleaning, paid some
bills, and then got back to making labels. There were three more to do.
Did you
know a group of cats can be called a clowder, a cluster, a clutter, a pounce,
or a glaring?
Speaking
of names of groups of this and that, I heard on Nebraska Rural Radio that day (so
it’s got to be true, yes?) that there was right that very moment a ‘gaggle of
reporters’ in Washington, D.C. (Well,
there’s probably always a gaggle of reporters in Washington, D.C., heh.)
And
speaking of cats, people in Omaha are being told to keep their pets inside
overnight, as a mountain lion has been seen numerous times on home security
cameras in southwest Omaha. Park rangers
have searched for the big cat in vain.
I
finished the quilt labels Thursday, and Friday I sewed them onto the quilts. Then I started hunting for ideas for Keira’s
quilt.
Supper
that night was little venison roasts, baked potatoes, fresh corn on the cob,
and fresh fruit salad. I cooked the
little roasts and the potatoes in the Instant Pot. I really like that thing!
Later that night, I spent half an hour
ruffling through two big bins and two boxes of fabric that my late
sister-in-law Janice gave to me at Christmas time, 2013, a few months before
she passed away from cancer. Did you
know that a stack of fabric as tall as one can hold whilst still able to see
over the top is heavy?! I carried it
from the basement to my second-floor quilting studio. (huff puff puff) Just call me ‘One-Trip Bumstead’.
I’ve managed to use enough of the fabric Janice
gave me, and that night I brought enough of it upstairs, that I was able to put
all the remaining fabric into the two totes and discard the boxes.
I found several large pieces of soft
cotton/poly that will work all right for backings, if they’re big enough. There’s a queen-sized sheet in light tan that
will work for the backing for one of the boys’ quilts. I’ll use a contrasting color of thread in the
bobbin, maybe variegated, to jazz it up.
I also looked through my own bins of
fabric. I have about half a dozen
shallow bins, and it doesn’t take long to look through them, as the fabric is tucked
in with the folded edge to the top. I chose
a few pieces for Keira’s quilt, and now have an idea of how I’ll make it. I plan to start tomorrow.
I exited my too-warm quilting studio and headed
downstairs to my recliner.
When I
get a quilt done, I think, ‘Christmas is an awfully long time to wait to give
this to him or her’... but when I think of all the quilts I still need to make,
I think, ‘Christmas is coming waaay too fast!’ There’s no way I can get quilts done for all
of the grandchildren by Christmas.
I have 21 quilts to go. There are 21 weeks until Christmas. I could only do it if I simplified some of the
quilts – and I don’t a-wanna! But I’ll
do the best I can. There’s one
granddaughter’s birthday in January, and seven of the grandchildren’s birthdays
in February. I’ll save those kids’
quilts for last, and give them something else for Christmas and a quilt for
their birthdays if I run out of time.
Saturday
on my way to Omaha to visit Loren, I went through Fremont to exchange a
straight presser foot for the open-toe foot that I had on my Bernina when I
took it there to be worked on. The girl
put on the straight one while working on it, and forgot to put my open-toe one
back on when she was done. I use that
thing all the time for stitching in the ditch as I put on bindings, for
appliquéing, etc. Fortunately, the
Bernina 180 foot fits the 730. It’s nice
to have a backup!
When I
got to Prairie Meadows, I found Loren in the TV lounge, apparently unaware that
he should go into the dining room for supper, though the staff was collecting
and urging along everyone around him. I
told him I’d walk with him into the dining room, so he got up, and we went
through the pretty French doors and sat down at a table for two just around the
corner.
Being
farthest from the kitchen, he was the last to get served; but he was
unconcerned, since I was showing him pictures on Instagram, and he was pointing
out articles in the Messenger newspaper I’d brought for him.
Eventually
I decided it was time for me to head for home.
Loren would probably finish his meal better if I wasn’t there
distracting him, in any case. So I told
him goodbye, dropped off the Messenger in his room, and went back to the
nursing station to ask someone to open the door for me.
The lady
started to push the button – then looked over my shoulder and said, “You’ll
have to come over here.”
Wondering
what she meant, I looked behind me – and there was Loren walking toward me,
grinning, carrying his still-quite-full plate in his hands. He’d left the silverware behind.
I grinned
back and said, “Hi! You need to take
that back into the dining room so you can finish eating!”
He
laughed, and started to go sit down beside a man who was sitting nearby in a
chair in the commons. Then he paused and
looked back at me, debating... something.
“Come
over here, honey,” said the nurse, and I finally realized that she wanted me to
come around the nurses’ station to the gate on the other side, and go through
the station to the outer door. Evidently
she thought Loren would attempt to follow me out the door, and we would avoid a
confrontation this way.
He’s
never done that; he just likes to walk along with me (or Larry and me, if Larry
is along) to the door, where he tells us goodbye. He always did that at his house, too –
sometimes walking all the way to our car with us. Come to think of it, I do it, too, when the
kids come to visit.
Why, the
Apostle Paul’s friends did the same, when he was preparing to leave them and go
elsewhere via boat, especially when they feared they might never see him
again. They walked with him all the way
down to the water, in order not to lose a minute of the time they could spend visiting
with him.
But
maybe Loren has tried to escape a time or two; who knows. Kelvin said he was going to walk out with him
and Rachel once, and a nurse hit a button that set off the sirens and brought
several nurses on the run to keep Loren corralled.
I wonder
if the nurse took Loren and his plate back into the dining room so he could
finish his meal? He usually eats quite
well, and they do serve good food.
After
leaving Prairie Meadows, I drove to Glenn Cunningham Lake, about 10-15 minutes
to the northeast. It’s a big, pretty
lake, with a newly paved walkway and bicycle path all the way around it. The entire trail is 6.2 miles long.
Here’s the description from
the website: Lake Cunningham is a
390-acre lake surrounded by a 1,050-acre park located in north central Omaha,
Nebraska. The lake was constructed by
the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers for flood control and recreation and opened to
the public in 1977. Recreational
activities included tent camping, no-wake boating, fishing, hiking, bicycling,
picnicking and horseback riding.
I stopped for a few minutes
at Fremont Lakes on the way back home and took a few pictures.
Larry called when I was
almost to Columbus, saying that Victoria had a giant cinnamon roll for us, just
out of the oven. So I stopped at her
house and picked it up.
Mmmm, it was big and soft
and warm, and had a creamy frosting with blueberries puréed into it.
We had it for dessert after
our venison roast and potatoes (leftovers from Friday’s supper) and Oui peach
yogurt. Scrumptious.
I have
discovered that one of my favorite coffee flavors from Amana Coffee is Banana
Nut Split. Coffee with banana flavoring
is usually one of my less favorites. But
this one tastes of berries and nuts, and not so much of banana. It’s really good.
We had dinner with Kurt and Victoria after
church yesterday. We’ve raised a passel
of good cooks, that we have!
The kitchen is clean... the last load of laundry
is in the dryer... and it’s time to fix supper.
We’ll have corn on the cob, watermelon, and a bit of roast beef and
baked potatoes – leftovers Victoria sent home with us yesterday.
Tomorrow I start quilt #7!
,,,>^..^<,,, Sarah Lynn ,,,>^..^<,,,
