February Photos

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Journal: Butterflies, Quilts, and Trucks

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.
Below is a black swallowtail.  More photos here:  Painted Ladies, a Black Swallowtail, and a Skipper
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!”
Explanations and pictures here:  Precut Fabric Guide
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       ,,,>^..^<,,,



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