Journal: Birds, Quilts, Weddings, & The Occasional Tornado

 

Here’s a picture that scrolled through on my screensaver:  Victoria, 15 ½ months, on Easter Sunday, April 12, 1998.

I grabbed a screenshot and sent it to her.

Victoria reciprocated by sending a couple of pictures of Violet at about the same age (below).  She looked a lot like her Mama, and still does.

Next, she sent some shots of Willie and Arnold eating ice cream cones.  It’s cold stuff! – but it’s much too good to quit eating.  😅

A few days ago, I started a gallon jug of China White tea steeping in the refrigerator.  It generally takes 24 hours before it’s ready to drink.  48 hours are even better, as China White is the mildest of teas.  I wound up with a gazillion boxes of the stuff when I cleaned out Loren’s house.  His late wife Janice had bought it, and from the literature I found, I think she was hoping that it would help her feel better.

I gave several of our children boxes of it, each box containing 100 teabags, and I still had numerous boxes left.  I don’t like it brewed hot; it’s not flavorful enough to suit me, and it’s slightly bitter.  It finally occurred to me to make it like I make cold-brew coffee.  I put a dozen teabags in a one-gallon jug and let it steep for a day or two.  

Perfect!  Now Larry and I both like it, especially on warm days.  We can warm up a cup of it in the microwave if we wish, and it’s still much better than if we made it hot in the first place.

White tea is milder than green tea.  But it doesn’t give me a stomachache like green tea, and, once it steeps for a while, it tastes more like black tea.

Judging from the dates on that literature about stomach cancer that I found, Janice must’ve realized what she had long before she let anybody know she was unwell.  😔

One flavor of tea that some people love and I can’t stand is jasmine.  It tastes like I’m eating perfume.  😜  When I was a teenager, I had some jasmine shampoo.  MMmmmm, it made my hair smell good.  I loved that stuff.  I don’t want to drink it, though.

On warm days, when a smooth patch of dirt out front isn’t muddy, a variety of sparrows have been having a rollicking dust bath in it.  It’s so funny to watch them.

Now that patch of dirt has small pockmarks – smooth, round indentations – all over it.

Here’s what the “Birds Outside My Window” website says:  “Birds take dust baths to maintain feather health, remove parasites like lice and mites, and absorb excess oil, which is then preened away.  They create small, shallow depressions in dry dirt, sand, or ash, fluttering their wings to distribute particles deep into their plumage to keep feathers clean, flexible, and insulated.”

Tuesday morning when I went out to hang the bird feeders, there was a tiny, Red-breasted nuthatch on the railing, scampering along and plucking sunflower seeds out of crevices other birds can’t wedge their thicker beaks into.  Red-breasted nuthatches are a little smaller than the White-breasted nuthatches that also come around.  I actually thought it was a wren until I saw it go spiraling headfirst down one of the railing balusters. 

The nuthatch saw me open the patio door, tipped his head, and made his low-pitched, metallic ‘Ank-ank!’ call.  That is to say, “Well!  It’s about time you brought those feeders out!  I was down to bare cupboards out here!”

He stayed on the railing while I walked toward the feeding station.  I quietly hung one feeder, stood still, and after one more ‘Ank-ank!’, he hopped right over to the feeder just inches from me, snatched up a seed, gave me a look and a flip of the tail (‘Thanks! I’ll be back!’), and off he went to a nearby branch to hammer his seed open.  (Photo by James MacKenzie)

I shined the bathroom back up after a shower, played the piano, and made myself a tall mug of Lazy Bear (honey and blackberry flavored) and Eggnog cold-brew coffee.  Mmmm...  that’s good stuff.

It was chilly in the music room as I played (though playing the piano always warms me up), and an old memory surfaced:  me, putting on mittens and attempting to play, just to entertain the kids.  😅

I blow-dried my hair, ate breakfast, and headed for the quilting studio.  How far could I get that day?

Here’s another picture from my screensaver – this is Hester, at age 6 months.

It was 69° that morning, on the way up to 88°, bright and sunny.  Wildfires to our west have continued to reignite.  Governor Pillen ordered the Blackhawk firefighting helicopters to be kept at Grand Island instead of Offut Airforce Base in Bellevue so they’re closer when and if they’re needed.

I spotted something fluttering in the flower gardens out front, took a closer look, and discovered that the Clouded sulphurs are back.

By a quarter ’til ten that night, the quilting was finished on the Constellation quilt.

The pantograph is called ‘Monstera’ (after the plant with large leaves), by Patricia Ritter, one of my favorite pantograph designers.  Her designs are easy to follow, and they interlock nicely.

These leaves don’t look much like the Monstera plant leaves at all, really; and there are pantographs called ‘Monstera’ that actually do look like the plant; but... I didn’t name it; it’s not my fault; I can’t help it; I refuse to take the blame.  😅  (Besides, I think this one is prettier anyway.)  Here’s a real Monstera plant.

Wednesday morning, it was 66°, on the way up to 82°, with sunny, blue skies – but those skies were a bit hazy, on account of 27-mph winds blowing topsoil into the air.  We were issued a Red-Flag Fire Warning.

It doesn’t seem like it was too many years (or maybe decades) ago that I thought ‘forest fires’, as they were usually called, happened in the mountains, and nowhere else.  I should’ve known better, if for no other reason than reading Laura Ingalls Wilder’s book, Little House on the Prairie, where they fought a prairie fire that came pretty close to burning their house down.

I rehung the bird feeders, watered a houseplant, showered, shined up the bathroom, started a load of laundry, and played the piano.  That’s one of the things I miss when we travel anywhere:  playing the piano.  When I don’t play for a few days, I can definitely tell it.

A famous pianist, possibly Ignacy Jan Paderewski (there is a controversy about just exactly who said it first), once said, “If I skip a day of piano practice, I can tell it.  If I neglect practice for two days, the critics notice.  If I miss playing for three days, the whole world knows it!”

I dried and curled my hair, ate half a bagel, toasted and lavishly buttered, and trotted upstairs to start applying binding to the Constellation quilt.  Reckon I could get it done before our evening church service at 7:30 p.m.?

I could not.  Especially since I used air thread (i.e., ‘empty bobbin’) for a good foot and a half, pulling out pins as I went.

Upon realizing this, I looked at the clock.  I looked at the quilt.  There was an entire side and a half to go, equaling about 150”.

I turned off the sewing machine and all the lights, and headed downstairs to encourage Larry to hurry.  It was almost time to go to church.

I put the last load of clothes into the washing machine, stuck my feet into my shoes, gathered up purse and Bibles, and out the door we went, with Larry grabbing his thermal mug of coffee, his wallet, and his hearing aids, which he put in his ears as we drove.

That evening, a friend told her little granddaughter to wave at her new security camera.  She then sent me the clip.

I responded, “That’s funny.  She had the same look on her face that one of my little grandsons had when his Mama told him to say ‘Hi’ in a video, and he said, ‘Nobody knows me in there!’”

After church, we had some of Campbell’s Baked Potato with Steak & Cheese soup (remind me to never get that again! – bleah), cottage cheese and pineapple, orange-pineapple juice, and pecan sandies.  Actually, I didn’t order that soup.  It was a substitute for the scrumptious Chicken ’n Dumplings soup I had ordered.  Brings to mind the little ditty my father used to quote:  “Substitutes would irk a saint, for you hope they are what you know they ain’t!”

Thursday morning was warm, 70° on the way up to 80°.  The wind was gusting at 17 mph.  I hoped to take pictures of the quilt outside later without the quilt frame blowing over too often – especially if I could find Larry and coax him to help me.

Having partially retired, he’s been home a good deal of the time lately – but that doesn’t mean I see him any more often than I did before.  He’s still busy from dawn ’til well after dusk, working away on organizing his Stuff and Things, Jetsam and Flotsam, A-One, Topnotch Junk and Projects.  He’s fixed several pieces of Big Equipment, had a few near catastrophes, and, hopefully, is getting closer and closer to actually working on the house one of these days.  Hope springs eternal!

The bunnies were busy outside, too.  I saw a bunny and a robin have a rip-snortin’, hip-hoppin’, feather-flappin’ fuss:  

The robin was minding her own business, hunting down worms and insects, when the bunny stopped nibbling clover and Creeping jenny, lifted his head, and stared at her with malice.  He then suddenly ran headlong at her, making her flutter upwards in a startled flutter, which made the bunny take an upwards leap, whether in reciprocal startle or an attempt to also take flight, I cannot say.

They both landed and faced off.  The robin, in a State of High Indignation, opened her beak wide and ran swiftly at the bunny.  The bunny hopped high.  The robin flapped upwards too, making open-beak pecking motions at the bunny.  He proceeded to spin in midair, and when they returned to earth, his fuzzy rump was nearly in Red Robin’s face.  

She tipped her head and considered this.  He looked around, and then, satisfied that the robin was no longer in his face, went back to snacking salad.  The robin returned to her nymphs, larva, and other young, juicy bugs.

The local fauna is funny.

I finished the binding on the Constellation quilt at about a quarter after two.  The quilt was all done, and just in time!  Joseph’s birthday was the very next day.

I gathered it up and headed downstairs.  Collecting my quilt frame, I headed out onto the back deck to put it together.

Larry showed up right then, and started helping me without even being asked.  He brought out the sandbags to lop over the tripod legs, and then together we screwed the frame together, clamped the quilt to the top bar, lifted it to the right height, and tightened the side screws.

Then, with Larry standing behind it to catch it if it blew over, I grabbed my camera and started taking pictures.

If I set the frame up on the ground, I use the tent stakes and cording, along with the sandbags, to hold it in place.  But it’s quicker and easier to do it on the deck, if it’s not too windy – or if Larry is on hand to keep it from blowing over.

Here’s the back:  

The quilt measures 108” x 108”.  I designed it in EQ8.  The batting is Quilters’ Dream 80/20.  The thread is 40-weight Ice Blue Omni, on top and in the bobbin.

The quilting was done on an 18” Handi Quilter Avanté.  My machine is hand-guided, not computer-driven.

This quilt took 185 hours, from design to final stitch in the binding.  The majority of the time was spent in the paper-piecing.

A quilting friend asked, “Do the recipients of your quilts know beforehand that they are getting a quilt or see the pictures that you post along the way?  Just curious because I don’t post pictures of my quilts until I have gifted them so they don’t see them or the progress before I gift 🤷‍♀️🤔 ”

“Oh, they sorta know they’re getting a quilt,” I answered.  “Their siblings have been getting quilts, after all, and I did ask Joseph what color he liked, and what size their bed is.  That’s pretty much a dead giveaway, eh?  Most of the kids don’t actually follow me much on social media; but they could take a look if they wished, since my page is public.  I sometimes hand things to kids and grandkids and instruct, ‘Act surprised, now!’  We all skip along, acting like everything’s a Big Secret. 😉”

I was listening (and sometimes watching) meteorologist Ryan Hall and storm chaser Reed Timmer that afternoon as they reported on and encountered, respectively, a large tornado near Braman and Deer Creek, Oklahoma.  He was driving his Dominator 3, a custom-built, heavily-armored 12,500-pound vehicle designed for direct, high-intensity tornado intercepts.  And he got blown into a cornfield.  He was thoroughly stuck until a farmer with a big tractor came and pulled him out.

I worked on photo-editing that afternoon, but it was sort of a pain — literally.  One eye was hurting, and eyedrops weren’t helping much at all.

It would be National Firefly Day Friday, so Thursday night I posted a picture of a firefly quilt on my MeWe Quilt Talk group.

My friend Lana, who is the administrator on my group, commented, “Oh, what fun we used to have on warm summer nights catching fireflies.”

“I once wound up with a glowworm by accident,” I replied.  “I had never heard of such a thing before!  When I tried putting it in my jar, it wrapped around my finger and wouldn’t let go!  Aiiiyiiiiyiiiiieeee.  I shivered so violently I nearly dropped my jar.  It was dark, so I couldn’t see what in the world I had (or what had me) until I got back to the porch.”

You can be sure, the very next time my mother took me to the library (which was often, as I read a lot), I checked out several books on glowworms (and lightning bugs, too, just for good measure).

My father once said to my mother in mock disgust, regarding me, “You can’t tell her any bit of balderdash; she always goes and looks it up before she’ll believe anything!”

There were three birthdays in our family on Friday, April 24^th: son Joseph, granddaughter Juliana (Joseph’s daughter), and our oldest grandson Aaron.

Larry took Aaron his gift that evening – a flashlight/knife set we’d gotten at the Cabela's we stopped at north of Sheboygan, Wisconsin.  We would visit Joseph and his family on Saturday.

I did more photo-editing that day, mostly concentrating on photos taken on our trip to Wisconsin.  As the previous day, I worked on pictures as long as I could and then had to quit, because my left eye was causing so much trouble.  This is the eye that an eye doctor injured some years ago.  Whatever she did to it, it never recovered.  The Botox treatments cause irritation for a couple of weeks, because the eyelids don’t go completely shut when I blink or when I sleep, and this eye in particular hurts and burns.

That woman didn’t believe me when I told her I had Benign Essential Blepharospasm (which was finally verified by the eye doctor I have now), as it was not at all severe back then, but did cause problems now and again.  A couple of eye doctors had never even heard of the malady!  Others acted like I was plumb nuts.  This woman (she was tall and thin and about 12 years old) (okay, okay; the older I get, the younger the doctor seems) decided (without telling me, or warning me as to what she was about to do) that what I had was a blocked tear duct — and she proceeded to suddenly press very hard on that eye!  

I jerked back and informed her that that hurt --- and she did it again!

In retrospect, I wish I’d have given her a good, hard boot, and then exclaimed, “Ooops!  Reflexes.”

Siggghhhh.  I don’t know exactly what the injury was; I just know that that eye has never been the same.  Okay, complaint over.  I put in an eyedrop or two and got on with things.

That afternoon, I tried for an appointment with the Optometric Center here in town, and got one – for May 21^st.  Almost a month from now!

I called LensCrafters in Lincoln, and got an appointment for Tuesday, whereupon I canceled the one at the Optometric Center.  I need an eye exam, and I need new glasses – regular glasses, craft glasses, and sunglasses.  I hoped the doctor could recommend something to help the troublesome eye, too; but for the last three days it’s been much better, thankfully.

Meanwhile, Larry was having his own twubbles and twials, as Caleb said when he was three.  He was using his loader to move a stack of garage door panels, and something went awry, and the strap came loose and panels spilled all over the place.  Fortunately, they were not on the lane, though they had landed on neighbors’ property south of the lane.  It took some time, but he got them all rounded back up and restacked.

Storm chaser Freddy McKinney, streaming live, was at a crossroads in Oklahoma that evening, where severe thunderstorms with tennis-ball-sized hail and tornadoes had been warned:  “Shall I go east or west here?” he asked his live chat.

Dozens immediately chimed in with advice:  “East!”  “West!”  “East!”  “West!”  “East!”  “West!”  “East!”  “West!”  “East!”  “West!”  “East!”  “West!” 

Next comment:  “It’s good to ask, because you’ll get an excellent definitive answer.”  😄

Saturday morning, I was getting ready for our drive to Omaha to see Joseph and family.  We made plans to meet at Texas Roadhouse at 4:30 p.m. – “to beat the crowd,” explained Joseph.

The high was predicted to be 70°, though it never got that high, and rain was expected.

I was writing out Joseph’s and Juliana’s birthday cards at about 11:00 a.m., when a loud, clattering roar caught my attention.  I looked out the window – and wow, good grief, and for cryin’ out loud!  A red pickup with a topper on it came flying down the hill from the house up the lane, which is now an Airbnb.  It thundered over the cattle guard, accelerating as it came, rattling the exhaust pipe and threatening to blow the motor, winding up going at least 55-60 mph in the short 1 ½ blocks to Old Highway 81!  😮

Not once in all the time we’ve lived here – since April of 2003 – has anyone ever driven like that on our little gravel lane – or at least not when I was home, and I’m home most of the time.  Whoever that was, he must’ve been madder’n all get-out.

I hoped none of the neighborhood dogs or cats (or even bunnies) got in his way.  Wow.

It rained hard part of the way to Omaha, but was still dry in the city.  We pulled into the parking lot at Texas Roadhouse at 4:35 p.m. – and it was already jam-packed.  Joseph, Jocelyn, and the children got there five minutes before us, and Joseph texted that they were waiting in line for a table; but they’d already been given a place to sit by the time we got there.

Jocelyn secretly let the waitress know that it was Joseph and Juliana’s birthdays – and about the time we were finishing eating, she brought along a rolling saddle seat, tried to get Joseph to get on it (nothin’ doin’!), but managed (with Jocelyn’s encouragement) to coax Juliana to climb on, after which the waitress and several other workers proceeded to shout some sort of Happy Birthday greeting at the tiptop of their lungs. 

And to think I’d just opened my mouth to complain of the noise in the place before that happened!

I had the Roadkill Steak (quite good – a medium rare grilled spicy hamburger with onions, mushrooms, and cheese), a sweet potato with brown sugar and sweet whipped cream, applesauce, and ice tea.

Here I am sitting beside Justin.

Afterwards, we drove to the Ace parking lot, which was nearly empty, and gave Joseph and Juliana their gifts.

I told Joseph, “You’ll have to share this quilt!” – and pointed out the label, which says, “Joseph and Jocelyn”.  

Joseph made a mock-amazed face and exclaimed, “I will?!!” and Jocelyn and the kids laughed.

I’m happy that both Joseph and Jocelyn really liked the quilt.

We learned that after their trip to the Philippines in late March, right after they got back around the first of April, Joseph had a severe bout of pancreatitis.  Jocelyn took him to the ER, and he wound up spending the next three days in ICU.  He’s doing all right now.  He has several health issues, most likely brought on by his proximity to burn pits in Iraq when he was in the military.

Here’s Juliana; she was quite pleased with her art set, sketchbook, and socks.

It was a rainy, chilly morning yesterday.  I rehung the bird feeders during a lull in the drizzle, and by the time I got back indoors, the birds were already having breakfast.

We attended the wedding of my great-nephew Nathan last evening.  He’s the younger son of my late niece Susan, who died of cancer two years ago.  After the sermon and the wedding ceremony, as people were walking out of the sanctuary and shaking hands with the wedding party in the front vestibule, Susan’s piano playing was broadcast through the speakers.  Sad to think she’s gone, and missed her son Nathan’s wedding.

Here is the wedding party.  The maid of honor, next to the bride, is Rachel, Nathan’s younger sister, Susan’s youngest child.  The flower girls are my great-great-nieces (Susan’s granddaughters), and the ring bearers are my great-great-nephews.

The bride, Cristina, has been a beauty since she was wee little.  Here’s a picture I took of her on Easter Sunday, April 4, 2010.  When she was tiny, we called her the Gerber Baby.  ☺️  Best of all, she’s as sweet as she is lovely.  I’m happy she’s now my great-niece-in-law.  (That’s a thing, right?)  😄

After we got home last night, I was listening to the weather, as there were more tornadoes, this time in Kansas, Missouri, and Illinois.  There may have been one in Oklahoma, too.

And look what someone wrote on Ryan Hall’s live chat:  “Dude is useless just focusing on one area. 😒”

Selfish oaf.  Ryan Hall tries hard to focus on all the areas that are currently experiencing the worst weather!  It isn’t as if that rude lout is paying him, now, is it?!

Ryan Hall and his team distribute a whole lot of the money they collect from his online streaming, along with Ryan’s own money, too, to people who have lost property and even loved ones in bad storms.

He has a couple of cute little kids.  Once when the oldest one was about 3 or 4, Ryan videoed him sitting in Ryan’s own chair in front of his big set of screens, exclaiming, “EVER’BUDDY GIT-UH-YER SAFE SPOTS!”

A couple of weeks ago, Ryan called for a moment of silence for a storm chaser’s box of pizza – with only one slice left – that blew off of the roof of his car in Norfolk, Nebraska.  🤣

I saved my two truffles that were in a little favors box by my plate at the wedding reception, and Larry’s, too (his dentures don’t like the big, round shape of truffles), to eat today... tomorrow... the next day... and the next.

I ate two last night.  OOOoooooOOOOOOooooooOOOOOOooooo  (stomachache).  🙄

I drank some strawberry coconut Celsius and felt better.

It’s damp and overcast today, and just 49°.  I look on these days as ‘easy on the eyes’.  Speaking of eyes, mine are much better than they were Thursday and Friday; I’m thankful for that.

As I type, there are severe thunderstorms approaching Battlefield and Springfield, Missouri.  Ryan Hall is posting videos from traffic cams.  Golf-ball-sized hail is coming in, and the highways are clogged with cars. 

“Look at this!” exclaims Ryan.  “It’s rush hour, and there’s hail about to hit!  Big hail, yet everyone is hurrying to Wendy’s to get their Breezeburgers!”  😅

Here’s a picture of Lewis & Clark Lake west of Yankton, South Dakota, taken the last day of our trip to Wisconsin.

And now I must pack some bags again, because after my appointment at LensCrafters in Lincoln tomorrow, Larry wants to continue on to Joplin, Missouri, to pick up a Thermo King auxiliary power unit, an air conditioner/heating unit for the sleeper in his truck.

We’ll stop at Missouri Star Quilt Co. in Hamilton, Missouri, on the way back.

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

Journal: Floods & 'Naders, Fabric & Quiltin'

 

This is the Wisconsin River northwest of Boscobel, Wisconsin.  It was running high when we were in the vicinity.  Now, after several days of storms, there’s a flood warning there in Richland County.  Boscobel, population 3,286, is slightly to the east of the red dot designating the warning.

When this picture of Hannah (below) scrolled through on my screensaver, I grabbed a screenshot and sent it to her, writing, “Look at those nifty red shoes!”

“A Goodwill find, right?” she responded.  “I liked that outfit.”

Last Tuesday, there were several tornadoes and severe thunderstorms in Wisconsin, right where we’d been traveling a few days earlier.

One of the reasons I am glad to be home is that I can play the piano whenever I get a mind to.  I’d just worked my way through several pages in the old hymnbook Hester gave me, when a friend who has been learning to play the piano since retiring a couple of years ago wrote, “The more I learn about playing the piano, the more I realize I should probably buy bongo drums.”  😆

In the news that day, there was an article telling about someone driving in Omaha who choked on food, passed out, hit a fence, and then a tree.  Apparently his seatbelt performed a Heimlich Maneuver on him and unstuck the food.  His female passenger could not have done it, as she, not being seat-belted in, acquired an arm deformity after being ejected from the car.

In the comment section:  “McAccident.”

That evening, Victoria sent several pretty sunset pictures with multiple unique rays and sunbeams.

That’s Westside Church in Omaha.

Below is a shot I got last Sunday evening shortly before we got home.  Not nearly as dramatic as Victoria’s picture, but pretty, nonetheless.  See the sunbeams?

Late Wednesday morning, it was sunny and 59° here, but severe thunderstorms were traveling around us, several on all sides.

How much sewing could I get done before time for our evening church service, I wondered?  The first order of business would be to clean off the quilting frame and put away all the fabric I’d been using – but first I would cut the strips for the binding and the correct lengths for piecing together the backing.

In the news, there were numerous pictures of damage from Tuesday’s tornadoes.  This destroyed farm place was just south of a route we traveled in Wisconsin.  The tornado shot below was in Iowa, also right south of the route we were on.

It wasn’t long that afternoon before I discovered that nine yards of 45”-wide fabric was not enough for the backing for this quilt.  I should’ve ordered ten yards.

I checked with three nearby quilt shops; they didn’t have it.  Yes, they carry Hoffman Fabrics; no, they don’t have the piece called ‘Bloom’. 

I ordered more from Marshall Dry Goods, plus enough of another fabric to get free shipping.  The binding was ready and waiting, cut, pieced together, and pressed.  I pulled out my machine embroidery notebooks and chose a motif to add to the quilt label.

The fabric on the right is the backing for the Constellation quilt.  The fabric on the left is for a future quilt.

Our midweek church service is always a welcome break in the week, and it was nice to visit with our children and grandchildren afterwards.

Hester gave me three bags of fabric she had found at the Goodwill.  They didn’t look all that big, but each bag was heavy, and I knew there was more fabric in those bags than one might think.

People who think fancy quilting is what adds weight to a quilt...  Haven’t they ever held a big pile of fabric, enough for a king-sized quilt, in one arm, and a couple of large cones of thread in the other hand, and compared weights, huh huh huh huh huh?!

“I’m impressed with how much was crammed into the bags,” laughed Hester.

“They vacuum-packed them!” I told her.

We picked up a grocery order at Walmart after church.  One quick, efficient, and friendly boy was teaching (or trying to teach) another boy the ropes.  The new boy either doesn’t like the job, or isn’t bright enough to know how to handle groceries.  Do kids these days ever help their mothers carry groceries in from the car and put them away in the kitchen??  That kid was tossing and dropping bags into the back of the Mercedes, ker-THUDDITY-thud-thud. 

Home again, we collected our groceries to bring into the house – and discovered the eggs had been tossed in upside down and heavy stuff put atop them, with the expected results.

I complained (online) and got an immediate refund.  I do hope the first boy doesn’t get the blame for the blunderbuss.

Thursday morning at 10:30 a.m., it was 67° on the way up to 86°, pretty and sunshiny – with a chance of rain and snow Friday night.

I stitched out the quilt label that day, despite the fact that I don’t know the exact date the quilt will be done, and I don’t know the total hours I will spend, and I do like to add that to the label.  But I need to have it ready to attach to the quilt, or I’m not going to get it done in time for Joseph’s birthday on Friday, the 24^th.  I would definitely be using a pantograph rather than custom quilting, and it would certainly be one that isn’t too awfully intense.

Siggghhhh... Marshall Dry Goods ships fairly quickly, but...  I hardly thought this quilt would be done in time.

It’s Larry’s fault, for dragging me off to Wisconsin last week!  (Isn’t it?)  😅

That afternoon, I downloaded the Merlin Bird ID app, created by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology, onto my tablet.  This app helps identify birds through sound recordings and photos, or by answering questions about size, color, and behavior.

I paid the bills, then typed up my ‘Birthdays 2026’ list, complete with pictures.  I waited so long to do it, I could hardly remember some of the gifts I’ve given kids and grandkids since January.  I got it done by looking at orders on Walmart and Amazon, my photos, and my journals.

I kept putting it off... putting it off... and finally just thought, Well, I don’t really need to do that, after all – and then it was Keira’s birthday, and I couldn’t for the life of me remember if I’d already given her a cute little cap with attachable ‘bling’ or not.

Yes, I decided, I do need to keep a list.

Catching a glimpse of movement from the kitchen window, I peeked out and spotted a cottontail bunny in one of the flowerbeds nibbling away at the Creeping Jenny groundcover.  I didn’t know they liked that.  I guess they like most anything green, come to think of it.

It ought to be female donkeys – jennies – that like the stuff, don’t you think? 😄 (Maybe they do; how do I know?)

Did you know that when a jenny is bred to a stallion, the offspring is called a ‘hinny’?

Did you know that a female ferret is called a ‘jill’?  The male is a ‘hob’ – and a group of ferrets is a ‘business’.  😅

A male swan is called a cob.  The female is known as a pen.  Their babies are cygnets, and a group of swans is called a bevy or a wedge. 

A female lobster is a hen.  The male is a cock.   Huh.  Now that, I did not know.  And a group of lobsters?  Why, it’s a ‘risk’, of course!

This photo of a swan with cygnets was taken by Robert E. Fuller, the British wildlife artist and filmmaker.  Here’s one of his incredible videos:  Swan Nest  And here is a live camera streaming from the nest:  Live-Streamed Swans

Larry sometimes gets to thinking his $$$$$$ hearing aids don’t make much difference (though he was then tempted to get some $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ hearing aids that someone called and offered him).  He doesn’t wear his hearing aids when he’s busy making lots of racket.  I informed him that those hearing aids do make a big difference.  When we go somewhere and he forgets to put them on, I get hoarse within half an hour or less, trying to talk loudly enough for him to hear me.  Doesn’t matter how many times I’ve told him this, he still thinks that it’s because the hearing aids don’t do much that his wife’s volume seems to be the same whether those hearing aids are in or out of his ears.  Then he sees the ‘look’ I’m giving him, covers the ear closest to me, and says, “Don’t box my ears; I’ll be deafer than I already am!”  😆

I opened the bags of fabric Hester gave me, and was surprised to find seven quilt blocks amongst the fabrics.  They’re very pretty.  Whoever sewed them did a neat and precise job.  The fabrics feel like Moda or Robert Kaufman – high quality.

It was Keira’s birthday that day.  Here she is (far end of table) with her little friends and cousins.  Granddaughter Elsie is at the right end of the table, and other granddaughters and great-great-nieces are there, too.  Since the birthday party went on for a while after school, and everyone was then all worn to a frizzle-frazzle, I promised to take Keira her gift the following day.

I was surprised when I got the ETA for the fabric I’d ordered:  Estimated delivery,  Saturday, April 18 between 2:00 P.M. – 6:00 P.M.  Maybe I could get this quilt done!

By 1:15 a.m., my fabric had made it 95 miles, from Batesville, Arkansas, to Little Rock, Arkansas.  That’s the wrong direction!

By 9:45 a.m. Friday morning, it had gone from Little Rock to Springdale.  See what it says by Springdale?  “Botanical Garden of the Ozarks.” 

 

I think that delivery driver is just enjoying a lovely spring drive through the Ozarks, with a nice stop at the Botanical Garden.

It was chilly that midmorning, 45° and feeling like 33°.  It would only get up to 52°.  There was quite a flock of birds at the feeders.  Several migratory birds are still hanging around. There’s one out in the trees that I can’t see, but it has a song that I’ve not heard before.  Gotta give that Merlin Bird ID app a try!

I decided to work on photo-editing while awaiting the package from Marshall Dry Goods.

As I edited pictures, I listened to (and periodically watched) a live stream of the weather.  At 3:00 p.m., there were 15 tornado warnings out, thankfully not here.  The line of storms stretched from Canada in an eastward curve all the way down to Oklahoma.

When Keira got out of school, I took her a present.  Keira is now 8 years old.  Note her little pink tongue caught between her teeth in concentration as she removes the paper from her gift.  (Yes, the paper is made of calendar pages.)

We gave her a magnet and a postcard that we got in the gift shop at the Sioux City Falls Park, and the aforementioned pink cap with all sorts of ‘bling’ for her to attach to it.  

As I went up the sidewalk at Hester’s house, I lifted my camera to take a picture of her lavender-blossoming tree – and discovered my camera had no SD card in it.  But Hester obligingly took some photos for me.

It was almost worth forgetting the camera card at home to see the expression on Oliver’s face when I told him that when I tried taking a picture, my camera said, “There’s no card in your camera, you dumb-dumb!”  hee hee

Keira liked the birthday card, which was a vintage one that had a list of words to unscramble inside the front cover.  It was in a plastic bin of cards that were my late sister-in-law Janice’s.  I found it waaaay back in a cubbyhole under the front staircase at Loren’s house when I cleaned it out.  From cards that were my mother’s and Janice’s, I’ve wound up with 230,931 (or thereabouts) get-well cards.

If people would be more inclined to tell me when they have hangnails and papercuts and suchlike, I could maybe use up some of those cards!

One has to be careful not to send someone who’s terribly ill and probably won’t get well a card with a kitten hanging by its front paws from a clothesline, with the caption, “Hang in there!  You’ll be purrfectly well again before you know it.  Take some catnip and I’ll talk to you in the morning!”

Also, when you’re hunting for a heartfelt get-well card, you must be cautious not to wind up sending a sympathy card by accident.

Amongst the sympathy cards I inherited, some say stuff like this:  “Your loved one never really leaves you!  You’ll think of them every time you see a cardinal.”  No wonder neither Mama nor Janice ever used those.

Ugh.  Let’s leave the superstition out and turn to the Lord, shall we?! 

Give me a blank card with a pretty picture on the front, and I can write verses such as these from Psalm 121 inside it:

¹ I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.

² My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.

³ He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.

⁴ Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.

⁵ The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand.

How do you think that compares with, “May you always see butterflies!”  🙄

My fabric arrived at the post office in Lenexa, Kansas, that afternoon, 290 miles to our southeast.  I went on working on photos, and the weather went on deteriorating in Michigan, Wisconsin, Indiana, Iowa, Missouri, and Oklahoma. 

The tornado-warning tally hit 150 just before midnight.  But things were winding down.  It did not equal 2011.  From Wikipedia:

“The 2011 Super Outbreak was the largest tornado outbreak spawned by a single weather system in recorded history; it produced 367 tornadoes from April 25–28, with 223 of those in a single 24-hour period on April 27 from midnight to midnight CDT, fifteen of which were violent EF4–EF5 tornadoes.  348 deaths occurred in that outbreak, of which 324 were positively tornado-related.  The outbreak largely contributed to the record for most tornadoes in April with 780 tornadoes, almost triple the prior record (267 in April 1974).  The overall record for a single month was 542 in May 2003, which was also broken.

“The 1974 Super Outbreak of April 3–4, which spawned 148 confirmed tornadoes across eastern North America, held the record for the most prolific tornado outbreak in terms of overall tornadoes for many years, and as of October 2025, it still holds the record for most violent, long-track tornadoes (7 F5 and 23 F4 tornadoes).  More significant tornadoes occurred within 24 hours than any other day on record.  Due to advancements in technology allowing for more accuracy in tornado reporting, the 2011 and 1974 tornado counts are not directly comparable.”

Last week, I grumbled to Larry, “We should’ve waited a week to go on this Wisconsin trip, and the weather would’ve been a whole lot better.”  Boy oh boy, was I ever wrong!

Instead of feeling grumbly, I should’ve been thankful for that cold front that was warding off the bad weather as we traveled.  And for a Heavenly Father who kept us safe.  (Well, I was thankful for the latter, and told Him so.)

Here’s something else I’ve been watching – a live stream from bald eagles Jackie and Shadow’s nest beside Big Bear Lake in California.  They have two little chicks now.  I happened to be watching when a hawk flew over their nest.  The adult eagles had left the eaglets alone for a few minutes, and I worried that the hawk might take advantage of that; but the adults were probably closer than I knew, and the hawk had more smarts in his birdie brain than to risk such an endeavor as an eaglet kidnapping snack.

I backed the live stream up and grabbed some screenshots.

The chicks are huddled on the right side of the nest bowl, heads in the shade.  They’ve nearly doubled their size in the last week.

Larry was only a few miles from Big Bear Lake when he was in California picking up that container three or four weeks ago.

Saturday morning, it was a breezy 45°, on the way up to 54°.  Shortly after 11:00 a.m., my fabric arrived!  Tracking info had said it wouldn’t be here until 2:00 p.m. at the earliest.

Soon I was measuring, cutting, and adding the newly-arrived fabric to the backing.  And then I was ready to load the Constellation quilt on my frame.

Ooooo, nifty!  Having heard on the radio (on my tablet) that there would be a meteorite show, I wanted the exact dates, so I typed ‘meteorite show’ into Google search ----- and my entire screen then darkened, and several meteorites went flying across it, before it lightened back up with the information I was seeking.  Here’s the info:  “The Lyrid meteor shower is peaking now, with the best viewing on the night of April 21–22, 2026.  Expect around 15–20 meteors per hour in a dark sky.  Viewing is favorable this year due to low moonlight interference.”

OoooooohHH!!!!  I just typed ‘do a barrel roll’ into google search, and my entire screen did a 360° roll!

I thought I needed to hurry and get to quilting??

Oh, look at this!  On elgoog.im, the screen is backwards, mirrored:

And this is backwards Bing, gnib.org: 

Typing ‘askew’ into search tilts the screen slightly.

I thought I needed to git bizzy quilting!

Yes, yes, I do.

And so I did.

That evening, Larry brought home Mexican food from La Mezcal.  Their food is delicious.  And now I need to lose a pound and a half.

What, you think a pound and a half doesn’t matter?!!  Imagine if I gained a pound and a half every day for a year!  I would weigh 654 pounds by April 18, 2027.  😶

Yep, it matters.

Speaking of gaining weight... Precut fabric from Moda comes from a section that they call “The Moda Bakery Shop”.  Those narrow pinked-edge strips in the fabrics from Hester come from a roll that they call ‘Honey Bun’, and a 42-piece stack of 10 ½” squares is called a ‘Layer Cake’.  The half-square triangle sets are ‘Turnovers’, and wider strips in a roll are ‘Jelly Rolls’.  The 5” squares are ‘Charms’, and the 2 ½” squares are ‘Mini Charms’.

A lady on a Facebook quilting group said, “I like these precuts!  They never make me fat!”

“Speak for yourself!” another woman retorted.  “Just the names of them make me hungry, and I wind up going to the bakery!”  😅

Moda calls their patterns ‘cake mixes’, and their designers, ‘Moda chefs’.

These are such pretty fabrics, I believe I’ll hunt for more.  If I can’t find the exact fabrics, I’ll look for some that coordinate.

I got four rows of quilting done that day.  The pantograph is called ‘Monstera’, which is a plant with very large leaves that don’t at all resemble the leaves in this panto.

There were both an opossum and a raccoon on the back deck scarfing down sunflower seeds when Larry went out later that night.  It startled them when he jerked the patio door open suddenly, and they both took off in a hurry – in opposite directions. 

They ran smack into each other.  😅

The raccoon regrouped first, and went down the fire escape, as Larry calls it (the tubular structure that rises from ground level to hold the bird feeders, one story up).  The opossum, after a good deal of consideration, finally deemed it safe to hurriedly waddle his way past us and go on down the steps.

Sunday morning at a quarter ’til eight, it was 36°, feeling like 29°, but the high would be 64°.  It was sunny, not a cloud in the sky.

Wouldn’t you know, the little bird whose song I cannot recognize, and whom I cannot spot amongst the trees, was singing profusely when I went out to hang the bird feeders – and I had no time to pull up my newly-loaded Merlin Bird ID app and find out what kind of bird it is!  

I was getting ready for church, blow-drying and curling my hair, sipping cold-brew coffee (eggnog flavored – out of season, but I always love eggnog flavors [cinnamon, vanilla, nutmeg]), and listening to the news on my tablet.

A piece of that news:  a man is now in custody for buying sets of Lego from stores in multiple states, then returning them for a refund – after having replaced the Lego with sealed bags of pasta in the boxes.  Well, it sounded the same.

After 70 such thefts, he is now residing in the Orange County jail.

We picked up an order for a few groceries and a birthday present last night after church, then headed home for a late supper.  I had more – not all – of the Mexican food Larry brought home Saturday night.  Larry had frozen noodles with chicken and gravy, along with cauliflower and broccoli.  (No, Larry didn’t eat the noodles in a frozen state.  They’re the ones I cooked a couple of weeks ago, then portioned and froze in freezer bags.  How do you describe those yummy noodles that you buy frozen, that taste like homemade noodles?)

I had just enough of what my father used to call ‘spizzerinctum’ to wash the dishes before bedtime.

It was a pretty morning today, 57° at 10:00 a.m., on the way up to... ah!  83°!  I thought it was only going to be in the mid 50s.  Excuse me for a moment while I go exchange this sweater for a short-sleeved top.
...
...

Okay, I’m back!  (Did you miss me?)  Had to change now, before I get my hair all fixed up purty, as dragging a crewneck sweater over it would unpurty it right quicklike. 😆

Larry had the rest of my Mexican food for his lunch today.  It was Lobster and Shrimp Quesadillas.  Have you ever noticed that the more often you warm up fishy things in the microwave, the more fishy they smell?

That was a mighty good quesadilla...  Saturday evening.

That was a pretty good quesadilla...  Sunday evening.

That was quite the fishy quesadilla... today.  😜

I’m fine, though; I had already eaten breakfast:  a piece of the French toast Larry made for yesterday’s lunch.

 Oh!  Lookie, there are butterflies out front!  Cabbage whites.  Not as splashy as some that will show up later, but butterflies, nevertheless!  (And no, they are not angels, nor are they loved ones gone on before.  They are butterflies.)

Mourning doves are building a nest in one of the Blue spruces in the front yard. 

(Photo by Helen Webster Drake)

I’ve made a fresh gallon of cold-brew coffee (right on National Cold Brew Day, at that), this time a combination of Eggnog (vanilla, nutmeg, and cinnamon) and Lazy Bear (honey and blackberries).  I’ll leave it to steep overnight.  It smells scrumptious!

And now I shall get back to the Constellation quilt.

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