Early each Saturday
morning, I send a missive to the Quilt-Talk group called The Saturday Skim’. It has
links to recipes, patterns, tutorials, and I write it as if I were inviting all
the ladies to an old-fashioned bee in my home, offering coffee, tea, fruit, and
maybe a scone or a bagel or a streusel bar to go with it.
Last week, a
quilting friend wrote, “Why do you call it ‘The Saturday Skim?’ When I
see the word ‘skim’, I think ‘skim milk’.
Just wondering.”
Hee hee... I didn’t
think of that when I coined the phrase – but I’ve thought of it every single
Saturday since, when I send out the email: ‘Skim Milk’. heh
What I meant
was, ‘skim’ as in ‘skimming through various websites’. That is all.
There is actually a
well-known newsletter called The Daily Skimm, whether good or bad, I cannot say. 😊
Tuesday, Dorcas
sent this picture of Trevor with their pony and their little dog. The pony comes to the fence when Trevor is
out, and walks alongside it as Trevor walks on the other side, and sometimes
licks his hand.
I paid bills,
edited a gazillion pictures, and then got back to the quilting. Yep, the
bobbin thread came Monday. I finished another
row, rolled the quilt forward to the next... and then it was bedtime.
Wednesday, the Fine
Line Mark-B-Gone water-soluble blue ink pen, recommended by quilter and teacher
Kelly Cline, arrived in the mail. It’s going
to be one of my favorite quilt markers, though I think I will also order the
wider-tipped pen, and the white one, too, for darker fabrics.
Hearing a baby bird,
I crept over to the walk-out basement patio door and peeked out. There was a young cardinal, cheeping and flapping
and begging for food between bites of sunflower seeds and little insects from his
beautiful Papa cardinal. I didn’t get a picture, as the patio door was
closed and my camera was upstairs. After they flew away, I slid the door
open and got my camera ready – but of course they didn’t return to that location, but instead went to the
feeder on the upper deck. And of course
the window nearest them was closed. Photos are seriously degraded if
taken through too many layers of glass.
Out front, there were
butterflies of all variety and persuasion flitting around the tall lavender
phlox and the purple coneflowers. This one is a Painted Lady.
I went and watered
Loren’s tomato plants that afternoon, as he had gone for a little excursion to
the mountains.
At a quarter ’til
five, he called to tell me that he was already on his way home. He’d driven
over Trail Ridge Road that morning in rain, sleet, hail, and even a few flakes
of snow. There was roadwork all over the
place, with restrictions on parking, so he wasn’t able to stop until he got to
the west side. He was pulling a 31-foot camper with his dually pickup, and
any spot large enough for him to stop was completely full of cars.
Driving all that distance and being in the pickup for so many hours through
slow, difficult driving was wearing – he needs to get out and stretch now and
then. He decided not to go on to Hot Sulphur Springs and stay at the
camp-ground as he’d intended, and just headed south through Berthoud and on
down to Frazier, then turned east toward home.
His ‘vacations’ look
more like short-term marathons, to me. He sounded so tired. His leg and foot were sore and aching, from
all the braking and accelerating through the ups and downs and hairpin curves
of the mountains. He’s a good driver,
but it was a tough drive.
I barely
disconnected the phone when it occurred to me, OHHH!!!!!!!! It’s his 79th birthday today, and I
forgot to say Happy Birthday!!! Rats.
Then, Well, at least I said it yesterday.
He stayed overnight
near Sterling, Colorado, and had a good eight hours of sleep – more than he
usually sleeps, even at home.
I wish he’d find
another, less populated, area to go where there’d be a nice place to park, and
stay there in the mountains and relax for a day or two! I recommended a number
of locations he could go, and gave him routes and showed him pictures. He
won’t stay in a campground that costs too much.
Interested as he was in the areas I showed him, he just can’t seem to
make himself try a new and different route from that favorite one he’s driven
time and again through the years.
Though he loves the
mountains, he doesn’t like staying away from home and friends very long. Larry told him we’ll go with him one of these
days. We’ll head down toward Ouray and
Telluride, towing his Jeep Wrangler for him, so we can go to Yankee Boy Basin
and maybe over Imogene Pass and suchlike. It’ll be a while before we can,
though.
Years ago, Loren
and Janice traveled quite a lot, sometimes via motorcycle. But as she
grew older, the altitude started bothering her, and she could no longer go up
into the mountains. Loren went a few
times with younger friends and family while Janice stayed in lower elevations,
but he missed having her along, and so didn’t do that often. Now he goes
a few times a year, but never stays more than a day. He likes to hike
around Bear Lake in Rocky Mountain National Park, but wasn’t able to go there
this time, on account of both roadwork and weather. He doesn’t want to take his large camper and
dually pickup into unknown territory and wind up in a tight fix.
After church that evening, Lura Kay told us that Kelvin, who
has colon cancer, was too sick for his treatment the previous day, and was in
the hospital in Omaha. He was still
there yesterday; she said he might get to come home today or tomorrow (Tuesday).
We had
supper when we got home: steamed asparagus,
and 12-grain bread fresh out of the oven.
I put peanut butter and sliced tomatoes (fresh from a friend’s garden) on
mine, but Larry refrained from that tasty tidbit (thinks he doesn’t like it,
even though he won’t try it) and had a piece of baked chicken instead. I had half a little container of strawberry
yogurt; Larry had pineapple. And that
was dessert.
I then
headed back downstairs to the quilting machine, and Larry went off on a bike ride. He hadn’t gotten home from work early enough
to take a bike ride for a couple of weeks, and he never feels as well or has as
much energy, when he doesn’t ride.
He only
made it 4 ½ miles before the back tire went flat. He carries a spare innertube and a pump with
him, but didn’t want to change it there beside the road in the dark, so he
called me to come and get him.
Thursday was Andrew
and Hester’s ninth anniversary. That
evening, we took them a gift of Schwan’s roast beef and a bag of fruit. It was my first time to ride in the Dodge
since Larry put the new piston in. I
need an elevator to lift me into that thing – and to get me back out. Or maybe just an ejector seat would do.
Hester sent us off
with more food than we took, I do
believe. She filled containers with
lasagna, lettuce salad, garlic bread, and chocolate cake with a crunchy caramel
bottom.
So off we went,
drooling. We couldn’t eat it right then,
you see, because we were on our way to the grocery store to get a gift for
Loren. It’s always hard to know what to
get him that he doesn’t already have. Sooo... we got him a variety of
fresh fruit and a gift card to Subway, and also gave him a little loaf of
12-grain bread from Schwans. He was very pleased.
Home again, we ate
our yummy meal from Hester, and then I quilted for a while. By the time I quit for the night, I had over
44 hours of quilting in the quilt. I
posted pictures, and now people are asking what I charge for that kind of
quilting. I tell them 13¢ per square
inch. That gives me $12/hour, for this size of a quilt.
Also, it weeds out
the people who don’t want to pay for my time.
Ah don’t woik fer nuttin’! In any
case, I must be getting on with my own things, one of these days. 😉
If I was doing the
quilt for show, I’d do a background filler around all the feathers and arches,
and in half of the triangles in the little squares. And then I’d charge
by the hour, instead of the square inch. As I do more quilts, I’m trying
to keep better track of my time, so I’ll have a better idea what price needs to
go with what type of work. When I started, I didn’t have the slightest
clue, so went researching the matter online, and discovered that a lot of
quilters like to keep their pricing a Deep, Dark Secret. I finally found
a few price lists, and made mine accordingly. But I’ve learned that my ‘custom
quilting’ is more detailed than some. The quilting I did on my Norma’s
Buoyant Blossoms quilt, for example, is generally labeled as ‘extreme quilting’
by quilters who do that type of work.
20¢ per square inch would be just enough for me to make $10/hour.
As I’ve said
before, though, I can’t charge as much as some might, because my machine’s stitching
just isn’t accurate enough. I’m doing my best, though! I’m giving my
customer a good deal for several reasons:
1) She’s sending me a large
quantity of quilts, 2) She’s a good
friend, 3) her precise quilt
construction makes her quilts a pleasure to work on, and 4) she pays ahead of time.
I scratch my head
when someone comments on a picture like this, “R U hand-quilting?”
I excuse the lady
in my mind, Well, the poor dear was probably born in the early part of the
20th century. And then I think, But if so, she’d have
NEVER written ‘R U’.
Nevertheless, I respond
politely with the facts. “Nothing but
the facts, ma’am.” 😉
What I really want to do is write back, “Yep! That big ol’ honkin’ thing over there on the
left, that’s just a large flashlight/thimble/needle threader/[whatever other dumb
thing I can come up with].” But my Mama
taught me to be nice. And sometimes I am.
Friday, I did some
house cleaning... filled the bird feeders... washed clothes... and hung them
outside. It was a beautiful day, and while not too awfully hot, the humidity
was low enough that the clothes dried quickly. Late that afternoon, I put
some chicken breasts and red potatoes into the oven. They would be done
by the time Larry got home from work.
When I quit
quilting that night, I thought I was about ¾ of the way done with the Autumn-Theme
quilt. I’d lost track of how many times I’d rolled it forward, and couldn’t be
certain which row I was on. There was no way to tell for sure, since I’d
forgotten to take a picture of the quilt before I loaded it on the frame.
Saturday morning, I refilled the bird feeders. Bird parents are filling a lot of nestlings’
and fledglings’ beaks these days! For
some, it’s their third nest of the summer, maybe even their fourth. I hung the last load of clothes on the line, watered
the indoor plants, and did a little cleaning in the kitchen before getting back
to my customer’s pretty Autumn-Theme quilt.
Shortly before 6:00
that evening, I rolled the quilt forward, and what to my wondering eyes should
appear, but ... the last row!!!!! I had no idea I was so close to
the end.
Okay. That
settled it. I would get that thing done that day. 😃
The newly-repaired Dodge truck is spewing a stream of
smoke when Larry puts it in gear and starts to go. So when Loren dropped by that night, bringing
a bag of empty egg cartons for the neighbors who give us eggs now and then,
Larry asked Loren to press on the accelerator while he watched the turbo. Sure enough, that was the culprit. It has gone kaput, and Larry will need to
either buy a new one or have the old one rebuilt.
I finished my
customer’s quilt well after midnight. After
trimming and removing it from the frame, I misted the blue marking lines with
water. They disappeared like magic. There were three squares where I used yellow
chalk – and those were presenting a problem.
I used my new fabric erasers on the marks to no avail. Water and dishwash detergent, as suggested
online, helped, but didn’t get rid of them entirely. I let it dry and tried another recommended
remedy – white vinegar – the next day.
That seemed to do the trick.
I told my customer,
“My new Fine-Line water-soluble marking pen came out perfectly. The yellow chalk I’d started with is a little
more troublesome. But the marks are nearly gone now. If you can
still see any marks when you get the quilt back, don’t worry; they’ll come out
in the wash.” This I know to be true,
thankfully.
We got an inch and a half of rain that night. Sunday,
everything looked green, green, and the flowers were blooming like
anything. Birds were singing boisterously, too; they like this cool,
damp, cloudy weather. Here’s a young house wren in the lilac bushes.
Kurt and Victoria
invited us over for coffee after church last night. She showed me their bedroom – it’s a large
room, and Victoria has a big overstuffed chair in one end, where she fixed it
up like a little sitting room. Then we looked
at the nursery. She has the Tumbling
Blocks quilt draped over the side of the white crib. That’s a mighty cute quilt, if I do say so
myself!
We went away,
thanking them for the coffee. Victoria prepared it in their Keurig coffee
maker, then added chocolate-raspberry liquid creamer. I usually prefer my coffee black; but this
was mmmmm, good.
One time when Aaron
was little, Bobby and Hannah invited us over for a lunch. As we left, Aaron call out the door after us,
“Tanks fo’ zuh schnacks!”
We still say that. “Tanks fo’ zuh schnacks!”
A lady on one of
the quilting groups wrote, “What’s that ‘cake’ y’all talk about sometimes?
I still don’t know why anyone would use the word ‘cake’ when referring to
a quilt.”
Another lady answered her, “That’s a ‘layer cake’, and consists of
40-42 pieces of fabric cut 10” square. Why they call it that, I don’t
know.”
(It’s because the
pieces of fabric are the size of most cakepans.)
I added my 2¢: “Now tell her about jelly rolls, honey buns,
dessert rolls, and turnovers!”
For free patterns
using these and other precuts, go to the Moda Bake Shop. Look for the various precuts in the right margin.
Larry came home at
noon today, thinking he’d have enough time to remove the turbo from his
pickup. He’s going to take it to the man
from whom he got the piston in Wahoo, and most likely have it rebuilt, if
possible. That would put the cost at
about $500, as opposed to more than twice that.
He didn’t get the
chance to take the turbo off, though, because one of the crews needed the
excavator at a job, so Larry went off to take it to them. He planned to get to the turbo this
evening... but that didn’t work out, either.
I packed up my
customer’s four quilts and took the box to the post office. These will take a little longer to get there
than the previous quilts, because the box was really heavy, and the price was
high for priority – almost $50. I wanted to put insurance on the quilts, so
I chose Ground Rate – $35.67 – and then added $200 worth of insurance for $3.35,
making a total of $39.02. Pricey! 😟😕😦😩
I’m scratching my
head... because I printed the receipt... grabbed it from the printer... stuck
it in the box... packed everything in... taped the box shut... printed the
address label ----- and when I went to get the label from the printer, I found
not only the label, but another receipt! Huh? Eh?
I didn’t want to
tear the box back open to compare the two, and I had looked at the first
receipt, so I’m pretty sure it’s the right one. I have no idea why another one showed
up. The first one had a faint smudge of magenta background, evidently
from the cheapie maybe-it-leaks cartridge I plugged into it last week.
Perhaps the printer
took a look at that first receipt and thought, Well, that’s just too messy,
and kindly printed another, all on its own. heh
Expected delivery
date is next Monday, 08/21/2017. There’s always a chance it could get
there sooner. (Or later.) I’m
always a bit anxious, the entire time quilts are en route.
The box was too
heavy. Pass the Capzasin. 😜😥🤕 A swarthy little Mexican man opened the main door at the post
office for me, bless his heart. But there was nary a soul around to open
the interior door.
On my way home from
the post office, I stopped by Loren’s house to pick up a couple pairs of pants
he needs me to repair.
I like Instagram,
particularly because I get to see pictures family and friends post that I
wouldn’t otherwise see. When I post
pictures, I hashtag them so others hunting for pictures of similar things can
easily find them. Because I hashtagged (Why
does Microsoft think that isn’t a word?
It should be a word! It is a word!) a marina in Pensacola,
several sailors (whether of the drunken variety or not, I cannot say) started
following me. Because I hashtagged (it
is now a word; I added it to my dictionary, and that makes it a word) kite
surfers in St. Petersburg, half a dozen kite surfers started following me. Because I correctly labeled a souped-up Ford
Fairlane, Hotrod Resource started following me.
Because I posted a picture of Teensy yawning hugely, Steak Barbq started
following me. (???) (No, I have no
idea about that last one. Maybe he’s
doing in-depth scientific studies connecting yawning with an appetite for steak
barbecue.) Anyway, I’ll betcha they’d all
be surprised if they saw a picture of me, whataya bet? They haven’t a clue that they’re all
following a little white-haired granny!
tee hee
I started following
a few people who started following me, because when I clicked on their names, I
found beautiful pages of scenery, animals, and birds. One of my favorites is The Daily James. James is a raven, and his ‘wife’, heh, is
Margaret. The people hosting the page have
a beautiful home in the California foothills, and they post pictures of all
sorts of animals and birds coming to their feeders – and sometimes they
photograph their pets watching the goings-on through their windows. The ravens sit on the ledge and chatter to
their cute little terrier, who chatters right back.
One person lives
just outside Banff National Park, and another lives in the Smoky
Mountains. After clicking ‘Follow’ on
those two, I was surprised to learn that they are good friends. A few of the people I follow are fellow
quilters, and one is the lady who loaned me her DVDs and books about quilting
some years ago, and really helped me get started.
Oh, and then there’s
the Nebraska photographer whose photos I used to see in the NebraskaLand
magazine... and Rebecca Naden Photography, who takes pictures of little owls,
puffins, and other birds. She lives near
Pembrokeshire, where they have all sorts of birds I’ve never seen before.
There are doubtless
several gazillion more people whose photos I’d love to see, but I follow too
many as it is. At least on Facebook, you can remain ‘Friends’ but stop
their posts from showing up in your feed, if you desire. Can’t do that on Instagram. You either follow them and see their posts,
or you don’t do either one.
See, because I recently
posted a picture of cows and added the hashtag #cattle, someone clicked ‘Like’,
I clicked their name, and found photos from a beautiful ranch in
Australia. I like good photography!
But...
I follow enough
people. I follow enough
people. I follow enough people. I follow enough
people. I follow enough people. I follow enough people.
I follow enough people.
A little before 10:00
p.m. tonight, Larry called to tell me that he was still in Central City, where
he’d gone to pick up forms at a job. He
was stuck, and the tie rod on the truck was bent. Caleb was on his way with the other boom truck
to pull him out. The pup was off the
dirt road and stuck in the deep sand, too, and tipping at a crazy angle. Larry said there was no danger of it tipping
over.
Yeah, right. Any object at anything other than a 90° angle
from the ground is in danger of tipping.
Isaac Newton said so.
Large
vehicles and trailers on a tilt make the hair on the back of my neck fuzzy.
He (Larry, not
Isaac) posted a video on Instagram of his stuck truck, and I collected a few
still shots from it. Larry was
straightening the tie rod, and thought he’d have it back in working order by
the time Caleb arrived.
At a quarter ’til
midnight, he called to say that they were on their way home. They’d unhitched the pup, pulled the truck
out backwards, and hitched the pup back on. Then Caleb hooked onto the front of
Larry’s truck, and with both trucks pulling, they got the pup out. The truck was driving well, so he must’ve
gotten that rod fairly straight.
Larry got home at
1:15 a.m. He was hungry, as he hadn’t
had any supper. I filled a plate with
baked chicken breast, biscuits and gravy, and steamed broccoli, and had a
grapefruit sliced and ready to eat. For
dessert, a couple of peanut butter/chocolate chip cookies.
Oops,
Tiger tried to scratch his chin from a lying-down position and wound up rolling
over onto his back, all four feet flailing skyward. He’s the fattest, most ungainly cat I ever did
see. But he sure is a sweetie.
Bedtime!
,,,>^..^<,,, Sarah Lynn ,,,>^..^<,,,
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.