Journal: 'Library', Flowers, & UPS Quallyfobbles

Last Monday night, Larry helped me move furniture around upstairs, with the help of a large, upside-down rug tucked under the edges.  We kept Caleb’s oak captain’s bed with its bookcase headboard and the drawers underneath, and I ordered a new mattress and sheet set for it.  We put three bookcases/drawer sets into place in that room, along with the children’s wooden benches.  I can’t find one small bench and the little wooden table.  Where in the world did they disappear to?  We put a larger bookcase/drawer set and two oak filing cabinets into place in Victoria’s old room, the room that will be my sewing room.

And that was enough for one night, as Larry had to get up very early Tuesday morning to take a truck to Omaha and retrieve one that was already there.  Strong husbands come in handy now and again, isn’t that the truth?

The problem is, that room has a big dormer on one side, with the accompanying sloped ceilings.  And with two people in the room and a couple of added pieces of furniture, there was just a little less room.  (You already know where I’m going with this, don’t you?)

I generally remember all the ceiling slopes upstairs just fine – but there is one in that particular room that I invariably forget (just once) (once each time, anyway), especially if the little bookcase isn’t in place under it. 

CRAAAACCCKKK! 

After that, I remember again.  Or, as soon as I regain my wits, I remember.

On an online quilting group, we were discussing quilt patterns incorporated into things that are not quilts.  This reminded me of a little tac pin a vendor gave me at the AQS Quilt Show in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

A lady by the name of Jennifer Patterson makes each piece of jewelry from clay, with a process almost like piecing a quilt.  On her website is a short video clip showing how she does it:

http://www.quiltedinclay.com/

I went to take a picture of my pin, but it’s not where I generally put it – which means it’s still on the lapel of the suit on which I last wore it.  I’ll take a picture the next time that suit floats to the surface.  (I choose my clothes on a rotating basis:  hang them on the left, retrieve them from the right.)

The pin is so tiny (about half an inch square), it’s hard to believe the lady actually put each color together as a separate piece.  I had originally thought the pieces were painted – but no, she presses long shaped and dyed pieces together in a long tube, then slices it.  Well, you can see what I mean on the video on her homepage. 

The design on my pin is the old-fashioned flower basket pattern, with lots of HSTs.  It’s green and white.  Pretty – but one of my least favorite colors, and right there in front of my nose was another little tac pin done with a Lemoyne star pattern in burgundy, cream, and navy.  I wanted that one!!!!!

But the man was giving me the pin, and my Mama taught me to be appreciative and polite, and I certainly didn’t want her turning in her grave, now did I?

Yeah, I could’ve bought the other one... but we were a long way from home, making a vacation of our trip to the quilt show, with a long way yet to go.  And we were counting every penny.  One would hate to spend the last night mopping at a truck stop just to earn enough money for the last tank of fuel to get one home, wouldn’t one?  😲

Okay, I couldn’t stand it any longer, and had to go look for my tac pin.  Hmmm...  it’s green, so I would put it on a suit lapel it would coordinate with ...  I peered into my closet, spotted a dark navy/gray/ purple plaid suit with a dark teal thread running through it, pulled it out a bit – and sho’ ’nuff, there was the pin.  More photos here.

The third baby eagle (D28) (stands for 28^th baby eagle of Decorah) hatched in Decorah, Iowa, and I just witnessed its first feeding!  South Eagle Nest  There is one on the north side of the city, too:  North Eagle Nest.  Both nests are equipped with HD cameras that you can take right up to 1080p, which makes large-screen viewing absolutely breathtaking.  People at the controls move the cameras now and then, zooming in and out... it’s really something to see.

Whew, I needed a nap after watching that.  I tell you, it was exhausting!  There was baby, toppling around, trying to snatch at the too-big bite Mama Eagle was trying to give him, tipping over onto his beak just about the time he allllmost got it... while his siblings, who’d had more than enough to keep them happy and plump, whacked each other in the back of the heads with their ponderous (for hatchlings) beaks.  The older one bullies the younger one right down to the turf, and the younger one, in the interest of preserving his pate, stays there for a while.  Mom tried putting bites into each of their mouths, but they were, urrp, fulllllll.  Just beak wrestling, not entirely in good spirits, either.  In Eagleland, the worst-behaved of the bunch gets rewarded by being fed first.

That doesn’t seem at all fair to us human parents, but it does keep the bigger one from murdering the smaller.  A method to the madness, and all that.  Instinct, really.

And then, with one last desperate, head-bobbling attempt, baby got his first bite of stringy, raw fish!  Uummmm, mmmmmmm, yummy.  Mother Eagle, satisfied with that, then gently and laboriously clambered over the top of her ill-behaved eaglets, lethal talons all balled up into ‘fists’ so she didn’t hurt her babies, and was soon keeping them warmed (and subdued).

One of the chatters on the site wrote, “and meanwhile, around the world, chatters were opening and closing their mouths in sync, trying to help D28 get that bite.”

I pulled up Wal-Mart’s website and ordered a heap of food and other necessities.  It sure is handy, having the Fed-Ex and UPS guys hauling all that heavy stuff right to my door.  Now, if I could just order milk, butter, eggs, yogurt, cottage cheese, cheese, and orange juice. 

“Do any of you have places where you can actually order that stuff to be delivered to you?” I asked the ladies on the quilting group.  I meant, local grocery stores and suchlike.

“Have you tried Amazon?” answered one.

I had, but I decided to look again, and give her some details:

Hmmmmm...  Here’s Tuscan Dairy Whole Vitamin D Milk, one gallon.  There is a choice of three shippers at the following prices:  $75.00, $185.00, and $217.00.  Shipping is $8.99.

Okay, let’s try cottage cheese.  Organic Valley:  $63.95 – 6 to the case, and each carton is 16 ounces.  Kraft Breakstones:  $70.95 – 12 per case. 

All right, what about yogurt?  Yoplait Greek yogurt, 12 per pack – $42.35.  But at least they have free shipping!

I guess I’d better stick to stone-and-mortar grocery-store shopping for dairy products.

I found the big cassette holder the Jackson grandchildren’s other grandpa made for us, years ago, along with a smaller one.  Thinking these would help keep the cassettes I’ve given them corralled, I loaded them into the Jeep to give to them when I picked them up at school.

I explained to the kids how easily the thing tips over, and how often we’d hear a little bit of clunkity-clinking as someone put a few tapes away, then, “Oh, ohhh, ohhhhhh!!!”

CRRRRRRASSSHHHHHH tinkle clink clunkity. 

Then, “Ohhhhhhhh.”  And the clunkity-clinking would start over again.

“Hope you enjoy it as much as we all did!” I finished, as they laughed. 

(I did suggest affixing it to a wall to avoid the above scenario.)

Wanting a coffeepot (a teapot would do, if it looked sorta kinda coffeepottish) for my great-nephew’s upcoming wedding, I hunted for one online.  I have to get them a coffeepot, you see, because I have to get them some coffee, you see, because the pretty bride-to-be is named Josie, and we have Josie coffee around these parts, and it’s quite good, into the bargain.  I will make a coffeepot cozy to add the personal touch.

BUT!  Did you know coffeepots and teapots are expensive??  I’m not rolling in dough, for crying out loud. 

Here, you just must see this: 

Ugliest teapot I ever did see in my livelong life, and it holds just one cup of tea.  It’s a Chinese Yixing Zisha teapot, signed ‘Jin Chan.’  And the eyes move.

AND! – it costs $552,609.80.  Shipping is a mere $223.28.  Pocket change.

Mind you, this is Jin Chan, the Golden Toad (or the Money Frog), legendary animal of China!  It has three legs and usually sits on a pile of coins and stares at you with red eyes, a coin in its mouth.  It is said to bring luck.

Now, just how lucky do you think a toad is, if he winds up missing one leg??

Okay, that’s plumb gross.  And you know I never use that word lightly.

...oO  ...I wonder if paper mache coffeepots work all right? 

I finally found the coffeepot I wanted at Annie’s Attic Treasures & Stuff.  I ordered it, and it came Saturday.  Now to make a quilted cozy for it.  Something elegant... I’m leaning toward fancy-schmancy crazy quilting in whites and off-whites, with silk ribbon embroidery and lace.  I’ve saved some ideas to my Pinterest board, Crazy Quilting.

I posted that link on a quilting group, and a friend wrote, “I just looked at your Crazy Quilting board, and noticed the heart pin from Etsy.  I clicked on it, and it said it was a ‘one of a kind’ – and ‘Sold’.  I know where it is.  It is in the top drawer of my dresser.  My oldest daughter bought it and gave it to me for Mother’s Day two years ago.  I got it out and compared it to be sure, and it’s the one.  I consider it a real treasure.”

Well, how ’bout that.  It’s ♫ ♪ a Small World ♪ ♫ After All!  ♫ ♪

One of my nephew Kelvin’s daughters, Sharon, and her husband Fred had a baby boy last week.  They named him Tommy Andrew – a special name, as ‘Andrew’ is Kelvin’s middle name.

Monday and Tuesday, Loren took his camper on a little trip to South Dakota.  He went to De Smet, where the Charles and Caroline Ingalls family lived.  I talked to him on the phone Tuesday, and he told me he’d had a couple of eggs and toast for breakfast, then driven 400 miles.  

“I get about 200 miles per egg,” he informed me.  haha

What do you think when you hear people say they need to ‘find themselves’?

Larry and I and a bunch of our ducklings were once walking past a magazine rack in a grocery store, and he spotted a headline reading “Insert name of famous actor takes a sabbatical to discover himself and ‘find out who he is’.”

Larry, being Larry, donned a horrified expression and went to patting on his head, chest, stomach, exclaiming, “Oh, no!!!  Where am I, where am I?!!!”  He then got a grip on one ear, tugged it out all cockeyed, sighed in relief, and said, “Ohhhh.  Thank goodness.  Here I am.”

The kids, as usual, were all in great stages of mirth.  And I was glad that the magazine aisle had no other customers strolling through it. 

Periodically throughout the rest of the evening, Larry would thump his chest and proclaim with great pomposity, “I am Larry Arnold Jackson, and I live in Columbus, Nebraska!”

I guess he knows who he is.  heh

Wednesday, with all the jetsam and flotsam sorted, cleared out, organized, and cleaned upstairs, I started putting books into bookcases. 

That afternoon, I heard an odd noise, peered out the window – and discovered sleet clattering down – even while the sun went on shining.  The wind was blowing at 35 mph, and it rained periodically.

By church time, several large boxes and big bins of books had been put into bookcases.  Two armloads of winter clothes had been taken out of my closet and carried upstairs to Caleb’s old closet.  This will be so much better, having my off-season clothes in an upstairs closet, instead of on a too-high rod in the basement where I have to climb onto a stepstool in order to retrieve them or hang them up.  In our big, unfinished addition, there is a closet big enough for all our clothes.  The ceiling and walls are done in aspen, and it’s so pretty.  But... it’s not done. 

After spending a good part of the day lugging around heavy books and clothes, it was nice to go to church, sing, sit in a pew, and listen to a Bible study.

After church, Loren followed us to Krumland Auto Sales so Larry could look at a red and black Jeep Wrangler Loren was considering buying.  As we were there in the parking lot, Caleb went thundering by in his Dodge pickup, Cummins motor all a-rumble. 

Thinking he’d done it solely for our benefit, I grabbed my phone and called him:  “Do I know you?”

He laughed.  “Huh?”  He hadn’t even seen us.  “I was just entertaining myself!” 

He came back to see the Jeep, and I gave him a few more of his things that I’d found upstairs.  He and Maria had just picked up sandwiches at one of the fast food joints.

After Krumland’s, we drove over to Columbus Motor Company to look at Jeeps there, including a new one.  The one at Krumland’s was priced at $29,900.  The list price of a new one at Columbus Motors was $44,000.

Coffeepots aren’t the only things that are expensive!  But the Wrangler can’t hold a candle to the Jin Chan Yixing Zisha.

Thursday, four very large and four medium-sized boxes arrived from Wal-Mart.  It was just food and various other things...  but it’s still like Christmas, when all that stuff arrives.

I had a Thomas Nooks and Crannies English muffin (oatmeal with cinnamon) for breakfast, toasted, and slathered with butter and honey.  Mmmmm, mmmm.

When I started putting the Wal-Mart things away, I decided to clean out a couple of cupboards first.  Next, I decided to clean out a couple of shelves in the refrigerator...  You know how that goes.

And then I got this notice from UPS regarding the autoharp, which was coming Lancaster, California:

“A train derailment has delayed delivery. We’re adjusting plans to deliver your package as quickly as possible. / Delivery will be rescheduled.”

I forwarded the notice to Hannah and Lydia, asking, “Reckon that means the autoharp will be out of tune now?”

Hannah replied, “At best, possibly. Maybe in more than one piece? That’s too bad.”

Lydia, proving they are sisters, then answered, “I’ve never seen that happen before!  😨  Hopefully it’s still in one piece. 😉”

Maybe the autoharp wasn’t actually on the derailed train, but, rather, was in a truck that had been delayed by the derailment.  I imagined the driver stretched out in his sleeper bunk watching IndyCar on his portable TV, chewing on beef jerky, and drinking peach tea, calmly waiting for the tracked cats with the big lifts to pull the rail cars out of his way, lay down new ties and rails, rebuild the approach, and reinstall the gates and the crossarms and the signals. 

In fact, there was a train crash and derailment in Melrose, New Mexico, where a Burlington Northern Santa Fe had struck a semi-tractor that had been attempting to cross the tracks.

On the other hand, maybe it was the derailment at New York’s Penn Station causing the delay.  I realize that’s on the wrong side of the country, but that doesn’t prove anything.  After all, the HandiQuilter microhandles I shipped to Arizona last Monday via USPS traveled to Des Moines, Iowa, some 215 miles the wrong direction, and, so far as I can tell, has been sightseeing, going to Worlds of Fun, and lunching at the Django ever since, as there have been no updates on the tracking page since April 5^th.

I headed upstairs to sweep and vacuum out the cubbyhole in my little office, and then I used the wood cleaner-shiner to clean and shine the floor and furniture in Caleb’s old room. 

Did you know that Murphy’s Oil Soap takes old gum off oak flooring?!  It even removes Sheetrock compound splatters.  It required a bit of elbow grease to get the gum off (and patience – it helped to let it sit on the spot(s) for half a minute or so), but now it’s clean.  Silly kid of mine who fell asleep and lost his gum here and there ------- if you knew how many times I admonished him about that, and worried over him choking on it!  Aarrgghh.  Luckily (for him), it fell out of his mouth before anything bad happened. 

He once at about age 8 blew a big bubble, and lost the gum entirely – in his little sister’s long curls.  Rather than come for help, he remedied the situation himself – with scissors.  I discovered the fact later that evening when, after washing her hair, I began curling it – and there was a little stub of hair about four inches long (the rest of her hair fell to her waist), a chunk about the size of a nickel. 

! 

“What happened?!!” I demanded.

Victoria, trying to save her brother, informed me, “Well, first it was an accident, when the gum fell out of his mouth, and then it was another accident, when he couldn’t get it out without using scissors.”

I called for Caleb, lectured him on gum, scissors, and When to Call for Help, and informed both of them that peanut butter does the trick.  Or baby oil.  They were properly amazed.  Siggghhhh...

I laid down a couple of rugs in the ‘library’, and, with some difficulty, carried a big wooden rocking chair in there from the new addition.  I put more books into bookcases, hung a couple more pictures, and decided it was high time to make a new pot of coffee.  Hmmm... what’ll it be, what’ll it be?  Ahhh, Cameron’s Cinnamon Sugar Cookie was just the ticket.  And a handful of fresh strawberries, while I waited for it to brew.

The grackles were back!  They were out in the sugar maple, grackling like anything.  The sun was shining brightly, and their feathers were glistening all black and purple and indigo blue, with a flicker of magenta now and then.  The squirrels found the peanuts and walnuts I put out for them on the deck table.  They’re so tame, they sit and watch me, nibbling away on sunflower seeds (“Those are for the birds, you squirrels, you!”) while I hang clothes on the line.

Loren dropped by that afternoon in that bright red Jeep Wrangler he was trying out, asking if I wanted to go for a ride.  Sure!  I don’t turn down rides, particularly not if they’re in bright red Jeep Wranglers.

So off we went to Monroe and back.

As I was walking back into the house, I noticed crocuses blooming by the porch, so I grabbed my camera, trotted back outside, and took pictures.  I went around the corner – and found daffodils and glories-of-the-snow, too.  See more here.

Then I got back to putting the books in bookcases.  Have I mentioned that we have a lot of books?!

My mother once walked into my house about a week before one of the babies was born and found me standing on the kitchen counters dusting the soffits, the tops of the cupboards, and all the decorations I had up there. 

“Oh, my goodness,” she gasped, “Do you have your suitcase packed?”

I laughed, “Yep, Mama, I’ve had it packed for seven months now!” 

I liked being prepared.  Besides, packing a suitcase for a trip to the hospital to buy a new baby – that’s what Keith thought we did, when he was about three – was fun.

Friday morning, I made a fresh pot of coffee.  I like those pots where I use up the last of the coffee in the old bag and start on a new bag of beans – and wind up with a combination of both.  This one was half Cameron’s Cinnamon Sugar Cookie and half Puroast’s Toasted Chestnut.  Mmmmm... it’s good.  They should sell that combo readymade.

The twin-sized mattress for the ‘library room’ upstairs arrived!  Hmmm...  I wonder if I can drag that thing upstairs by myself?? 

Answer:  No.

I sent a note to Larry:  “There’s a mattress on the front porch, and nothing I can do about it.  (I tried.)”

He had a few spare minutes about 3:00 that afternoon, so he hurried home, drug it into the house, took it from the cardboard box, and carried it upstairs and placed it on the bed.  I pulled off the plastic and made the bed with the new sheets I’d just gotten, nice ones with a fairly high thread count.  Don’t you hate cheap sheets that get little balls all over them after just a few washings?

Now... Where did I put that Lone Star quilt I just found a couple of weeks ago??

For once, I found it in one of the first places I looked:  in a closet in the laundry room.  There was a twin-sized blanket in there, too, with an animal print on it.  I tossed them into the washing machine, along with the round, heavy-yarn crocheted rug Hannah made for me.  The rug dried quickly outside, but it was beginning to look like rain, so I threw the blanket and quilt into the dryer.

I made the quilt in about 1992 or 1993 from squares I found in my mother’s basement.  Each square was big enough to cut two diamonds from.

While everything dried, I picked up the grandchildren from school and took some things to the Goodwill.  Home again, I brought a bag of stuffed animals from the basement and put them around the little library here and there.  (I wonder how long it will take to get used to calling it the ‘library’, and not ‘Caleb’s old room’?)  I needed one more little bookcase in there – and I found it, in the basement.  I dusted it thoroughly, carried the two shelves upstairs, and debated how best to haul the case itself up there, two flights up.

The basement steps are a bit tricky, as they curve tightly and are rather narrow.  I imagined Larry coming home hours later and finding me stranded at the halfway point on the basement steps, with a heavy (for me) bookcase shell draped over my head.  😲

Therefore, I took it out the patio doors in the basement, carried it around the side of the house, in the front door, and then up the stairs to the second floor.  My back protested, but ah done it, nonetheless.

When that bookcase was full, I collected a bunch of my quilting/crafting/embroidering/ smocking/serging/silk ribbon books from the basement and carried them up to the new sewing room (Victoria’s old room) to put in the bookcase in there.  I cleaned out two drawers in my bedroom; some things are for the Goodwill, other things that I don’t use so often, I put in drawers in the ‘library’.  Some of the bookcases have drawers in the bottom sections, and there are two large drawers under the bed.  Poor Larry needs more drawer space in our room!  I keep telling him, If you’d just finish that addition, there’d be plenty of room for everyone... 😉

Loren got the Jeep Wrangler that day.  He plans to pull it behind his camper when he goes out to the mountains.  It’s allllmost warm enough that he can fill his camper’s water tank and head for higher elevations without fear of water pipes freezing.  He never stays away too long, partly because he is quite particular about his big yard and his house, and partly because he gets lonesome when he’s gone.  He’s always a busy, busy beaver! 

Bobby and Hannah and their family went to a Bible conference in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma.  My nephew, our Pastor Robert, preached some of the sermons.  Friday afternoon, Hannah sent me a note:  “We feel like the Gibeonites – the bread we brought for lunch was moldy.  ☹️  So we had sliced meat and cheese by itself.”

Do you know the story of the Gibeonites?  They deceived the Israelites with their moldy bread and old worn-out shoes, causing Joshua and his people to think they had come from a long distance, and thereby making a treaty with the Israelites to protect themselves.

I felt sorry for Bobby, Hannah, & Co., but Hannah’s note still made me laugh.  I remember discovering our bread was moldy when we went somewhere once, and I told our kids the same thing:  “We’re Gibeonites!”  But we had crackers, at least, so we had hors d’oeuvres. 

Finally the quilt was dry, so I made the bed, put the crocheted rug down, and took pictures.  More:  Little library

Saturday morning our neighbor to the east put weed killer and fertilizer on the pasture and wooded area next to our yard.  I had the windows and doors open, since it was 73°.  Suddenly, I realized I was acquiring a headache from it, so I quickly shut up the house.  Bah, humbug!  I don’t exactly mind the smell, but it sure gives me a headache.  And it’ll probably kill some of my flowers.

I filled the bird feeder... put the last load of clothes into the dryer (I say that a lot, don’t I? – there’s never ‘last load’, to be honest)... grabbed another mug of coffee... practiced a few songs on the piano... cleaned off a dresser that likes to do double-duty as a catch-all... and even remembered to eat breakfast.  (I forgot, until my stomach growled.) 

Then Larry came home, and we headed off to Templeton, Iowa, to pick up a snowblower he purchased online.  He got it for $70 – and it’s worth at least $1,000.  Snowblowers are cheaper in April than they are in November!  😊

A friend, upon seeing the picture of the rug Hannah crocheted, asked, “Are all your kids so crafty?”

Some do more crafts than others, but even most of the boys learned how to crochet.

Jeremy’s grandmother, Helen Tucker, was the 4^th, 5^th, and 6^th-grade teacher at our school when it started, back in ’91-’92.  Every afternoon, she’d read to the children.  She also taught them various crochet stitches, bringing boxes full of yarn along with all sizes of crochet hooks, and then she let the children crochet while she read.  The boys made long ‘ropes’ … the girls made baby bonnets and collars and progressed on to blankets and adorable little booties and doilies of fine thread and such. 

Teddy once set up one of his ropes with pulleys and hangers on the basement steps, attaching it to the door handle at the top and a door handle at the bottom… fastened a large teddy bear into a hanger as if it was riding a swing… got everything all hooked up just right… and sat back and waited.

Soon Hannah came walking through the kitchen, heading for the basement door, on her way to bed.  She sleepily pulled open the door – and that big teddy bear popped straight up and stared her right in the face, nose to nose, before going bump-bump-bump all the way down the stairs.  She shrieked and ran in place a couple of feet above the floor – and in the hallway downstairs, Teddy laughed so hard, he sat right down on the floor.

On our way to Templeton, we drove on Rte. 30, the old Lincoln Highway.  It’s a pretty part of the country, all hilly, with creeks and rivers and fields and woods.  There are double train tracks beside the road – the route and the tracks run all the way from Columbus to Templeton – and the tracks are busy with trains.  We were sometimes traveling just a little faster than a looong one with empty car-haulers, and we met some with oodles of white grain cars, all decorated with artwork.  (It’s possibly a good thing most of the words were in Spanish [and I can’t read Spanish], or my delicate little sensibilities might have been offended.)

As we traveled, I decided to look at Facebook to see what was happening with April the Giraffe, who will soon have a calf – and discovered Larry had ‘shared’ a listing for a big ol’ relic of a loader right on my page.  How in the world did he do that?  He, of course, has no idea.  What account of his is synced with my Facebook page, anyway?  I need to investigate the matter one of these days.  He’s going to fall asleep with his fingers on his screen one of these days and order himself a Ferrari!

On the way home, we pulled off the main Highway 30 and drove into the little town of Woodbine, Iowa – partly to find the convenience store, and partly because of the sign that said “Historic Brick Street District”.  The eleven-block section through Woodbine follows what is now called Lincoln Way, the town’s main thoroughfare.  This section of the Lincoln Highway was paved with bricks in 1921.  The street has a canopy of shade trees lined with restored houses from the turn of the 20^th century.  The street lamps are replicas of the first original lamps to grace the street.  It was too dark to take pictures, but it sure was pretty.  Maybe someday we’ll go back that way in the daytime.

As we drove, I posted pictures from our March 25^th trip to see the Sandhill cranes and go to Stuhr Museum and from our trip to Iowa. 

When we visited Stuhr Museum a few days ago, we noticed this sign upstairs in the Stuhr Building.  See anything wrong with it (other than the comma after ‘Nebraska’ where there should be a period or, at the very least, a semicolon)? 

Victoria had invited us for Sunday dinner, and was worrying about her menu.  She sent me a note:  “I have three beef boneless ribs but that’s not going to feed all of us.  So I’m going to make a couple of steaks too.  And if you personally want some yummy fish, I can stick it in the oven for 15 minutes when you get here.”

“That sounds good; I’d like that,” I told her.

“Okay,” she responded.  “Fish is so easy to cook!  And it’s yummy too.  (She’s always loved seafood.)  Fortunately, we’re really good at informal eating so nobody cares if it looks like a buffet.  haha”

I wrote back, “Buffets are stylish, and the ‘in’ thing!  Served in a ‘lordly dish’, à la Jael to Sisera, it’s perfectly formal and proper.”

She didn’t need to worry about the menu.  In addition to the meat and fish, there was corn on the cob, homemade whole wheat bread, baked potatoes and gravy, onions, chocolate chip banana bread...

A missionary from Mexico City, Tom Montgomery, along with his wife, visited yesterday, preaching for both services.

I shut down the lajack@megavision.com address today.  That’ll save us $5 per month.  I think I have all my accounts (some multi-gazillion of them, all over the known universe) switched to gmail, and all my friends (and a few enemies) notified.  Remember:  no more lajack@megavision.com!  I use gmail and yahoo:  sarahlynn.jackson2@gmail.com and sarahlynn.jackson2@yahoo.com.  A few things still utilize sarahlynn_j@yahoo.com, too.  I’ve had others, for various reasons, but lack of use has deactivated them, and now my recovery email is gone... and probably an old phone number is listed, too.  Three email addresses, a cell phone, Google+, Instagram, Facebook, and several blogs – that should be good enough, should anybody – including potential customers – wish to find me.

A friend sent me this picture of a great horned owl.  Quite a photo, isn’t it?

One time, when we still had those big Austrian pines in our front yard, the girls were sitting on the front porch in the evening, when all of a sudden, a great horned owl gave a loud squawk and dived out of one of the trees.

The girls likewise gave loud squawks and dived off the porch.

Now, the bird wasn’t really diving at them, but merely diving to get out of the tree, under the near low-hanging branch, and back up into the night sky.  But for a moment or two, he was coming straight at them, and those things aren’t little. Around these parts they grow big, and often have a wingspan approaching five feet.

Caleb happened to be coming along the front walk just then and saw the whole thing.  He laughed so hard, it folded him right in half.  (’Course, if the big ol’ raptor had’ve been aimed right at him, he’d’ve done the same thing, heh.)

I miss those pine trees.  Our blue spruces are growing... but slowly.  And they’ll never sound like the Austrian pines when the wind blows through their long needles... nor will they smell the same, either.  But at least the pine sawyer beetle doesn’t consider them a delicacy!

The autoharp was supposed to arrive today.  Sure enough, I received the expected note from the UPS:  it had been ‘Delivered, porch.’

Huh?  I hadn’t heard anyone come!  And I’d been on the lookout, because there was a light rain coming down!  I scurried to the front door and peered out onto the porch.

Nothing.

?

Did the UPS driver think the back deck was a ‘porch’?

I scurried to the back patio doors and peered out onto the deck.

Nothing.

?

Did he put it in the garage, despite my calls and notes in the past, asking them to not do that?

I looked in the garage, by both doors.

Nothing.

I started a live chat online with someone at UPS.  She took my information and assured me she would call me back as soon as she learned anything about the parcel. 

“The trouble is,” I told her, “if it’s been left outside somewhere, this isn’t good, because it’s raining here, and there’s a vintage autoharp in that box!”

She again assured me she’d do everything she could.  I thanked her and we ended the chat.

She called in a bit to inform me that the driver said he had indeed left the box on the porch.

I looked again, just in case I’d had my eyes shut the last time I looked. 

“No box,” I told her.  I described my house, just in case. 

She contacted the driver.  Yep, that was the house where he’d left it.  But this time, he told her something different:  he’d left it at the back door.

“The back door?” I queried.  “There is no ‘porch’ at the back door.  There’s a big wooden deck, reached by way of a flight of steps.  And there’s nothing on the deck.”

She apologized, told me they’d start a search, and would look at the exact coordinates on the driver’s GPS when he actually set that box down. 

I thanked her again.  It wasn’t her fault, after all.

I decided to don sweater and shoes and go hunting on our property (¾ acre) for a box.  There have been numerous times when boxes showed up in strange places.  Sometimes I suspected the box had been misdelivered to the neighbors, and the gink-headed neighbor lady (a ‘ginkhead’ is a person with a weather ball barometer for a head) (I knew you wanted to know) came and stood on the property line and gave the box a fling without caring a fig where it might land.  We’ve found a box of Christmas cards in a heap of snow on the far side of the driveway.  We found Kurt and Victoria’s wedding invitations (!) (and they even had a photo printed on one side) resting all whoppyjaw atop the Traeger grill, shortly before a raging thunderstorm hit the area.  (Mr. and Mrs. Ginkhead have departed, and their replacements are normal, nice, friendly people.  Hopefully, they won’t fling misdelivered boxes into snowdrifts and Traeger grills.)

Sooo... out I went into the weather, and the weather, spotting a hapless victim, became more weathery than ever, throwing cold rain straight into my face with a hard, chortling guffaw of hard wind.

And I found the box.

It was on the back drive, near the back garage door. 

It was big, but I didn’t have any trouble grasping it, because it was such a soggy mass of cardboard, anywhere I gripped it became a hand hole.

I got box, me, and my respectable temper back into the house and called the UPS lady back to tell her I’d found it.  The box, that is, not my temper.  (I always know where that is.)  While still on the phone, I opened the box to see what state the merchandise was in.

Wonder of wonders – it had been packed in huge, thick wads of thick plastic.  The vinyl case wasn’t even damp.

((..big sigh of relief...))

And, once again, I gave instructions for UPS drivers to please set my boxes and parcels right on the front porch.  I even leave the front door unlocked when I know something is coming, so they can set things inside for me.

And then it was time to pick up the Jackson grandchildren at school.  Tomorrow, April 11^th, is Ethan’s 13^th birthday.  He was born on Easter Sunday in 2004 – right about the time our Sunrise Service had begun.  Since I would be picking the children up today, but not tomorrow, I took him his gift:  a Collegiate Encyclopedia, the fleece/minkyblanket and neckroll pillow (black with gray volleyballs on it, light gray minky on the back), and a ratcheting screwdriver with multiple bits.

Hannah came and picked up the autoharp.  Levi, who will be 7 next month, came in with a small handful of dandelions, and Hannah found a little tin cup to put them in.  Later, I took pictures of them, and told her to tell him thank you.

“Did you hear what he said when he brought them in?” she asked. 

I hadn’t. 

He said:  “I pulled some weeds,” ... (while he looked for a place to put them.

hee hee

I told her, “Show him how pretty they look, and tell him they are cousins to the pretty periwinkle-blue chicory.”

As for the autoharps... Lydia will again have the one that was mine, the one I originally gave her, and Hannah will have the ‘new’ one.  So all is well, and I will not wind up like that cattle baron who kept selling and reselling the same cows, pulling in millions and multimillions ---- until he abruptly needed to pay the piper, and was not able to do so, as there were not nearly enough cows to go around. 

The piper was unamused.

Mr. Multimillionaire Cattle Baron has been looking out from behind bars for a long time now.

It’s probably safest for him there.  His fellow inmates are not as irate as the piper is.  😲

The latest autoharp came with two tuners.  I’m not sure I’m old enough to tell the following story on myself just yet... but... here goes:

I played the violin when I was little, about eight years old.  I knew how to tune it, too.  And then I discovered that if you drew the bow over the strings whilst you were simultaneously twisting a tuning peg, you could make the most crackerjack firetruck, police car, and ambulance sirens ever.

So there I was, doing an impressive wheeeeOOOOwheeeeOOOOwheeeOOOO when, quite unexpectedly and startlingly, there was a loud BANG! – and the string was no more.

I stared in astonishment.  What I did next was not entirely in character for me:  I tucked the violin back into its case and slid it under my bed. 

I don’t know how I thought that was going to resolve the issue.  I think it was a reaction of sheer horror, worse because it didn’t even belong to me, we were borrowing it from Helen!  Directly I realized that wasn’t going to work, so I retrieved the poor instrument, and took it to show my mother.

Speaking of stringed instruments, here’s a piano we saw at Stuhr Museum – a Chickering square grand piano, circa approximately 1870.

Oh! – I just looked at USPS tracking, and see that the microhandles have reached their destination in Quartzsite, Arizona.  That’s a relief.

Time to get back to the housecleaning/organizing/reorganizing/re-reorganizing!

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