Here’s Tiger (or
his identical twin):
Many have asked
what I did to my wrist/arm/thumb. I think – though I’m not sure – that I
injured it whilst enthusiastically cranking a quilt forward on my frame.
It kept getting a little worse... and then suddenly it was lots
worse. It helped if I wrapped it and kept the thumb from moving too much.
I always seem to
work under deadlines, real or imagined. Stuff to do! Gotta git
it done! NOW! I laughed at my brother when he was cutting the dead
trees down around our place, and I was worrying about him, because he’d keep
going until he was exhausted.
I said, “Well, maybe
if you wouldn’t go at it like you were fighting snakes!” and he replied, all
surprised-like, “I thought there was a deadline!” hee hee We must’ve had the same parents.
Tuesday afternoon, Norma
called to say they had their camper all packed, and were heading to South
Dakota to see the Laura Ingalls Wilder homestead at De Smet. They would stay at Gavins Point Dam south of Yankton
the first night or two.
I worked on the
chicken apron (no, not an apron for a chicken, but an apron with chickens
printed on the fabric) most of the day, and thought maybe, maybe, I could get it done the following day.
I’ve actually seen
patterns for aprons for chickens – they cover the backs of chickens that are
getting pecked and bullied, and prevent sores, or allow sores to heal.
They otta electrify
those aprons, so that when a bully chicken (sounds contradictory) pecks
another, he gets zapped! Nothing lethal, just something that makes him
reconsider his evil ways.
I want everybody
and everything to behave!
That evening, Larry brought home some yogurt smoothies to
pour over our frozen berries for dessert.
Yummy. Now, that’s my kind of a
dessert.
Wednesday afternoon, I got a message from Amy, who had
taken her children to the fair to enter their Lego, flowers, mulberries, pictures,
drawings, etc.: “So.....would it be
spoiling it if we told you what you won at the fair?”
I hastily
responded, “No, no, of course not! Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me,
tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, pleeeeze do! Doors to the Exhibit Hall officially open
today at 5:00 p.m., close at 10:00 p.m., so I won’t be going, or I’d be late
for church and smell like chickens.”
She wrote back, “My
kids walked around the corner while we were entering stuff and came back LOUDLY
proclaiming that you and Victoria got Grand Champion ribbons, and Hannah got
something too.”
She began sending
pictures of a few things. The Americana
Eagle quilt and the silk ribbon embroidery picture I made for Lura Kay, along
with Victoria’s crocheted bonnet, were the items that won Grand Champion.
Amy sent a picture to Victoria, too. Victoria, on her way home from her doctor’s
appointment in Norfolk, called to exclaim over her Grand Champion ribbon.
She was laughing
and all excited, because she’d made that bonnet last Saturday, then, hearing me
mention that I would be taking things to the fair the next morning, decided on
a whim to enter it, and thus promptly removed it from Baby Carolyn’s head and
handed it to me.
When the texts,
phone calls, and excitement over ribbons at the fair died down, I got back to
working on my friend’s apron. I was alllllmost
done with it by the time we needed to go to church that night. If we could’ve delayed the service by 15
minutes, I’d’ve had it done! (Or maybe
if I’d’ve quit emoting over County Fair ribbons 15 minutes sooner, I’d’ve had
it done.)
We returned home from
church, had a late supper, and then I trotted upstairs to my sewing room to finish
the apron.
There’s a layer of
thin batting under each block. The only quilting I did was to outline the
block frames and the chickens.
This is a birthday
gift for a friend who, with her husband, raises chickens.
Once upon a time
when Victoria was about ten, she was rummaging around in a bin and found
several of my aprons. She pulled them all out, tied them all on so that
they went all the way around her, and decided she now needed to bake something.
Up the stairs she
came, well-aproned.
She pulled out
flour, sugar, butter, eggs, etc., and set about making dinner rolls.
I walked into the
kitchen just in time to see her carefully insert her buttery, floured hands
between and under the multiple aprons, and wipe her hands on her skirt.
“What are you doing?!”
I asked, making her jump.
She grinned a bit
sheepishly. “Well, I didn’t want to get your pretty aprons all dirty!”
That night, I finally
got these pictures posted:
Second page,
including the Corn Palace of Mitchell, South Dakota, at night:
Thursday, I had an
appointment to see the doctor about my wrist.
First, I needed to drop the Jeep off at the dealership and pick up a
borrowed vehicle to drive to David City (where my doctor is). The grease
monkey who thought he fixed the car last week by merely cleaning the starter
wires, ... didn’t. It’s doubtless a transmission computer problem,
needing the computer reformatted, just like Larry told him in the first place. If people would learn to listen to Larry’s polite suggestions about what’s wrong with vehicles and mechanical things, life
would be a whole lot easier for everybody.
But they are
letting us borrow a vehicle free of charge, so I guess their chagrin is worth something.
😉
The vehicle they
gave me is a Chrysler Pacifica. This is
a nice van – but it’s programmed to turn off at stoplights, which makes me
extremely irate, because I want to be first away from the light,
and how can I do that, when the silly motor has to start before I can
go?! AARGGHH.
The gear shift is
nothing more than a large dial – like a volume dial – on the dash. That
was nice, since my right wrist is kind of hurting a little bit, too.
Early that evening,
a lady from the fair called to congratulate Victoria and me, and to ask both of
us to be there at 7:00 p.m. Friday night to have our pictures taken for the
local newspaper. This, I do not care
for, especially since blepharospasm makes my eyes look funny, especially if
people don’t hurry up and take the
picture (and they never do).
I duly reported the
matter to Victoria, then asked her, “Do you think Leah (in the Bible) liked
having her picture taken? (The
Bible says Leah was ‘tender-eyed’ – and that was no compliment.) That’s me, ‘Leah’.”
“I’m not sure,” answered Victoria. “Maybe cameras were less intimidating back
then?”
“Probably more like
Brownies,” I speculated, referring to those vintage cameras by Kodak.
At the doctor’s
office, as the nurse took my blood pressure, which was as low as always, I
began removing the elastic wrap from my wrist.
“I’ll take this
off,” I told her, “if you’ll tell the doctor to promise not to poke or wiggle
my thumb or wrist!”
She laughed and
told me she’d certainly tell him.
Upon examining the
wrist and thumb and listening to my description, the doctor diagnosed me with de
Quervain’s Tenosynovitis, or tendonitis of
the thumb.
Sounds impressive,
eh? It’s also called ‘Mommy
Thumb’. I like
the more... high-ka-flutin’ name for
my malady. 😁
When I told this to
Hannah and sent her the link, she wrote back, “So, which game is your
favorite?” ha! She knows perfectly well I hate electronic games,
and never waste my time with them – though, way back in 1998 when we first got
a computer, there was a Tetris game on it, and Hannah and I had a first-rate
competition for a few days, maybe even weeks, having fun with that game.
Then when I realized how much time it was wasting, I said, “Never again,” and
when I say ‘never’, I mean never.
So now I have a
splint on my thumb and halfway up my arm.
The doctor offered cortisone shots, but I chose the splint, a bag of frozen
peas, and Aleve if needed. He said to
use the splint for ‘several weeks’. I
suppose that means, ‘more than two’.
Also, the doctor wrote
me an excuse, mentioning severe rheumatoid arthritis and Benign Essential
Blepharospasm, so I don’t have to be on jury duty. Thank goodness. I
didn’t feel up to that at all. 😝 Did I tell you I had received a
jury summons?
Yep, I got a letter
in the mail requesting that I show up at the courthouse.
It went like this:
GREETINGS.
(Do they have to shout? Rude.)
The politeness
deteriorated even more, after that:
YOU ARE HEREBY
SUMMONED TO PERSONALLY BE AND APPEAR (can’t I appear without ‘being’?)
BEFORE THE COUNTY COURT IN AND FOR SAID COUNTY, AT THE COURT HOUSE IN
COLUMBUS, NEBRASKA, IN SAID COUNTY, ON Tuesday, July 31, 2018, at 2:00 p.m. TO
SERVE AS PETIT JUROR (at least they acknowledge my smallness) AND NOT DEPART
THENCE WITHOUT LEAVE OF THE COURT.
Bossy ol’ thing,
the Jury Commissioner Ex Officio, ain’t she?
**YOU WILL BE
PASSING THROUGH A METAL DETECTOR, SECURITY DEVICE ON THE DATES YOU APPEAR FOR
JURY SERVICE. TO EXPEDITE YOUR ENTRY, PLEASE LEAVE ALL METAL OBJECTS AND
ALL CELLULAR PHONES AT HOME OR IN YOUR VEHICLE.
(Well, bother!
I wanted to play Tetris whilst I wuz a-sittin’ thar!)
Anyway, I’m not one
to shirk my duty, but this seemed like a trial by fire just thinking
about it. So I was really, really appreciative when the doctor willingly
and cheerfully wrote me an excuse, and agreed with my reasons.
Look what he
wrote: “I have recommended that Sarah not do jury duty because of chronic
medical conditions that would make this very difficult for her.”
Made me so happy
and relieved reading that, I almost got well on the spot. 😆
“So does this mean you need to take breaks
from quilting more frequently?” asked Hannah.
I’m pretty sure I
hurt it (and my other wrist, too, though not as badly) cranking a quilt forward
on the frame. I was going at it quite vigorously, of course. I’ve
hurt my wrists time and again through the years, starting when I was in grade
school.
I have three more
customer quilts, and then I’m not going to do anymore for a while. My
eyes are bothering... my back and neck and hips hurt... and I have my own
things I want to work on. The flowerbeds are a colossal mess.
Oh—that was one of
the things that can cause this tendonitis: pulling weeds. So,
ha! I have an excuse!
Isn’t this a
beautiful evening sky? One of these
days, I want to make a quilt, incorporating those colors. More pictures here.
That night, I got
everything all prepared for embroidering tea towels, but I was too, too tired
to start. So I edited pictures, instead.
The towels are a
belated wedding gift. Emily Post, in her book Etiquette, says it’s
within the realm of good manners to give wedding gifts up to a year after the
date of the wedding. I told this to the new bride (new wife of my
great-nephew – the young widow, mother of three little boys, whose first
husband was killed in a construction accident three years ago)... and she laughed
and said, “Don’t worry about it,” – sounding a lot like her brother Jeremy, our
son-in-law.
Here’s the Platte
River, which I crossed on my way to David City.
It’s running quite full, on account of recent rains.
When the towels are
done, I have a rooster cat quilt to make.
((giggle)) It’s a quilt
for a cat, made of a panel of blocks printed with roosters and chickens.
This is for the people who once asked me to make a miniature of my Mariner’s
Compass quilt for their cat – “and I can give you $5!” said the lady
cheerfully. (I didn’t do it.) Well, when the man saw my eagle quilt, he immediately asked for a rooster quilt – for the cat.
I think he expected
an intricately appliquéd thing, like the eagle.
I pointed out
pre-printed panels of roosters and/or chickens... and gave a detailed price
list that totaled $51. Thought that would put them off their feed,
since they’re on the government dole, and never seem to have more than two
pennies to rub together.
I was wrong.
They said, “Sure, go for it!” – and sent me $20 to get started.
They just sent me
$20 more – and announced how happy they are that the cat rooster quilt (or is
it a rooster cat quilt?) is now ‘totally paid for’! They’re paying me
$40. Not $51.
You know people who
make you swing back and forth from feeling pity to aggravation to sympathy to
disgust to compassion to ire? These are those.
Ah, well.
People like that keep our emotions from stagnating, running along in a rut, and
so on! haha!
Anyway, I thought
the rooster panel that I ordered would be exactly the right size for a cat
quilt – and the person who sold it, on Etsy, had only one rooster pictured in
her ad. I thought there was one big rooster on that panel. So I was a bit amazed when I opened up the
package to discovered more than a yard of fabric, with nine rooster/chicken
printed blocks.
I immediately
thought of my friend who took care of my mother before she passed away... now
she and her husband raise chickens... and she was having her 65th
birthday! So that’s how my friend wound
up with a chicken apron.
You know, I could
just send those people the rooster quilt with the edges unturned and
unbound, with a note saying that I couldn’t finish it, because they shorted me
$11. Ha!
But I won’t. They have enough to cope with in life
without me being unkind. Among other things, they have some physical
troubles (made worse by unnecessary operations and surgeries galore – though
not all of them were unnecessary, by any means). They don’t
have enough money to go on vacations, so they use ambulances as tour buses and
regard the ER as a spa resort. heh
Friday, Norma sent
a picture of Loren and wrote, “On our way to De Smet today. Lots of hail and rain last night. Love, Mom”
Fortunately,
the hail wasn’t too bad, and they had no damage to either truck or camper.
I got a couple of
tea towels embroidered that day, and finished them the next.
Friday evening when
Larry got home from work, we went to the fairgrounds. We might’ve gotten some funnel cake, had there
not been such a long line at the stand. Larry took note of the corndogs at
one of the food trucks – they were huge.
But we didn’t buy anything; we had chicken casserole and still-warm
apple pie waiting for us at home, after all!
We looked at all
the entries in the Exhibit Hall... went to see the horses, cows, goats, sheep,
rabbits, chickens, and ducks in the barns... and greeted a few friends,
including Kurt and Victoria and little Carolyn, who looked quite pleased to
bump into Grandpa and Grandma in this big, strange, noisy place.
Later that night, while
my machine was embroidering, I was doing a bit of research. And I read, on a certain thread site, the
following:
“Be sure you clean
out your bobbin race and apply a drop of oil once a week.”
Once a week?! For cryin’ out loud, are they in cahoots with sewing machine
companies, trying to make people destroy their machines and buy new
ones?! I brush out my bobbin area every single time I change bobbins, and
apply a drop of oil alllmost as often. If you listen, you can hear
that the machine likes that! – its tone is just a little bit smoother. I
want my machines to last. And they do, they have.
Since the kids have
moved out, I’ve spread out all over the house.
I try to keep everything well-organized... but so many times, if I’m here,
the stuff I need will be there. (pointing)
I kept my machine
embroidering away all day Saturday. By
bedtime, the tea towels were done. It
seems I invariably pick the designs that take the longest to stitch out. Some of them took nearly an hour and a half
in stitching time alone, and had over 30 thread changes! But they sure were cute. Someday, I want to make a quilt with
embroidered blocks. I have some new
embroidery cards for just that purpose.
The nice thing
about embroidery machines is that one can edit one’s photos whilst the machine
is a-workin’ away. See them here: Jaunt
to David City and Platte
County Fair.
Sunday, July 15th,
was our 39th wedding anniversary.
Kurt and Victoria invited us for dinner – grilled hamburgers. Mmmmm, they were good.
This morning I picked
up all my things, ribbons, and money awards (a jingling $19) at the
fairgrounds. This isn’t exactly the way
to Get Rich Quick. 😆
It took quite a few trips in and out of the
Hall to collect all the stuff.
I got the things of
Hannah’s that I’d entered, since they were gifts she’s given us, but left the
money for her to pick up. Hannah has
been having trouble with asthma for a week, and the polyps in her nasal
passages seem to be returning, too. I
worry so much about her.
In
the Exhibit Hall, I saw all sorts of Lego buildings and vehicles and
concoctions put together by the Jackson kiddos. Almost every entry had garnered them a blue
ribbon in their age division.
Here’s one of the
goats we saw Friday night. He looked
like a friendly little thing – until my camera’s flash went off in his
face. At that point, he arched his neck,
tilted his nose down, and looked for all the world like a big ol’ mean mountain
goat ready to butt another one who had wandered into his territory. I laughed, and he tipped his nose back up and
looked at me sweetly.
Home again, I put everything
away. I’ll have to gather them up again
when I take them to the State Fair. I need
to fill out entries; I’ll do it online.
I heard an email
come in from PayPal. “Ka-CHING!!!” says my computer.
Oh, that’s nice, I think to myself. Someone bought another pattern.
I click on the
PayPal folder and find ... not a receipt, but an invoice.
For $19.
Huh? I just picked up $19 at the fairgrounds. Do they want it back, or what??
I clicked on ‘See
Details’ – and discovered that the Gingher embroidery scissors someone had
advertised on SewItsForSale that I’d inquired about were still available, and
in fact, the guy had already sent the invoice!
I paid it... and
now have new embroidery scissors on the way.
This, because I was
using my little embroidery scissors Saturday night (I use them for embroidery
and for clipping threads on my quilting frame), looked to see what was poking
my thumb – and discovered that the handle was broken right in two.
Sooo... for all the
effort of taking things to the fair, I have new Gingher embroidery scissors. They’re $40.99 at JoAnn’s. But... oh,
brother... I just discovered they’re $17.73 at Wal-Mart. On sale for
$26.95 at Sewing Machines Plus (reg. $34.95), and $23.72 on Amazon.
Hmmph. Snort.
Ah, well. Ah
done broke even, ’tween Fair and scissors!
Hester sent a
picture of Baby Keira, plus one of her at three weeks, when she weighed only 3
pounds, for comparison. She’s three
months old today! 💓 As of Friday, she was 8 pounds, 4
ounces. Our tiny baby (2 lbs. 8 oz. at
birth) is doing very well! We are thankful.
“Wow,” I replied to
Hester, “Keira’s dolly shrunk!”
Loren and Norma,
after returning home over the weekend, are heading out to Calamus Reservoir
today. “Finishing our vacation,” wrote
Norma.
We are so glad they
are enjoying life and each other.
On one of the online quilting groups, we were
discussing fabric stashes. As I’ve
sometimes mentioned, I have quite a small stash in comparison to some. Somebody recently asked me about that. My reply:
Yeah... I really don’t want a big stash, don’t want
stuff sitting around that I might never have time to use. For years, it
wouldn’t have been possible for me to have a big stash, even if I had’ve
wanted it, since we were poor as Job’s turkey. (Why would Job’s turkey
have been poor? Job was rich, after all, except for that time when he
lost everything at the hand of Satan.
God gave him back double what he’d originally had, though.)
I like being thrifty,
and prefer to buy only what I need, when I need it, and save the excess (which
is how I got the stash in the first place: it’s all left over from
something else; there are few big pieces of anything). (Mind you, that
mindset certainly doesn’t prevent me from staring at and drooling over pictures
of others’ stashes, showcased on shelves and organized so that it looks
like an artist’s palette.)
When I start a new
project for which I haven’t enough fabric or supplies, I find it enjoyable to
go buy everything for that project (thankfully, I can do that, these days)
(within reason), bring everything home, and launch in, using brand-spankin’-new
stuff.
Years ago, I made a
quilt out of fabrics someone gave me. They must’ve come over on the
Mayflower. The fabrics, not the person. ((...pondering...))
Actually, come to think of it, that person might very well have come over on
the Mayflower, too.
Anyway, that stuff
was flimsy, flimsy. But... it was all I had, and I certainly wasn’t going
to use the grocery money or the children’s shoe fund to buy fabric.
I made the quilt,
handling the fabric gently. I chose a decent poly batting that I thought
would last longer than cotton, hoping it would help hold everything together.
I put a note into
the gift box with the finished quilt: “Wash on Delicate, or handwash, in
cold water. Do not dry in the dryer; lay
flat to dry.”
And I figured, There.
Now if it falls apart, the recipient will just think, ‘Oh my goodness, I was
too rough with it.’ ((snerk)) It’s the
thought that counts, right?
Funny thing is,
that quilt lasted for years and years. 😅 The recipient loved it. (It was pretty.)
I’ve been looking
forward to purchasing the fabrics for the cream and white quilt for a long
time. I find it enjoyable to walk into a quilt store, knowing what I plan
to make... and then hunt around for all the fabrics to fit my plans. But
then a fellow quilter reminded me of Marshall Dry Goods. I looked... found oodles and gobs
(definition: heaps and mounds) of creams and whites in all sorts of
pretty TOT prints... the price was smashing... and I hauled off and bought a
yard of almost every single tone-on-tone print. I was plumb out of TOTs,
after all. That’s why the background of
the eagle quilt has all those different ivory/cream/ off-white/tan
squares! 😏
That was fun, but
not quite as fun as going to a quilt shop. Saved time, though. AND
I didn’t have to carry a heavy pile of fabric from store to car, and from car
to house.
I quilt a lot like
I used to make children’s clothes: I pull out all possible coordinating
fabrics, and then I set about figuring out exactly what I can do with those
fabrics. This, I find enjoyable. I love matching, coordinating,
contrasting, deciding on pattern and design. I like cutting it (though
this is probably my least favorite part of the entire process). And then
I can start. I’ve always found those
first few stitches on a brand-new project a delight. I’m just beginning... I have big hopes and
ideas, a vision in my head... and I haven’t made any blunders yet.
Oops, hand me the
seam ripper, please, I forgot about putting ‘right sides together’.
So, with the first
seam sewn and ripped back out, I’m ready to start! Or restart, as
it were.
Or at least to put
the exact same seam in that I just took out, right side to wrong side, the
exact same way I did it the first time. Hand me that seam ripper
again, wouldja?
The Jeep is still
at the dealership, hopefully getting fixed. Meanwhile, I’m still driving the
almost-new Chrysler Pacifica with magnetic signs on the sides that read,
“Courtesy Van”. It’s a lovely van, but I
like my Jeep!
Our 2008 Jeep
Commander only has 78,000 miles on it, and it’s an excellent vehicle. I’m
really looking forward to getting it paid off soon, and having that much more
money each month. I understand the saying
about being ‘nickeled and dimed to death’ ... but... sometimes one can afford
the nickel and dimes all right, but not the cost of the item that would
supposedly be ‘maintenance-free’! As I told Larry, “We’re not rich enough
to save any money.” ha!
Okay, I’ve just gone through my ribbons and all the
comments the judges wrote on the tags. I
got ten blue first-place ribbons, and two Grand Champion rosettes/ribbons, one
purple, one pink. One of the Grand
Champion items (the silk ribbon embroidery picture) was awarded State Fair
Choice, which means it will be in its own separate category at the State Fair.
Now I
need to fill out all the entries for things at the State Fair. All who enter things in the Open Class
section can have admission tickets (up to 5 for a household) for $5 each. Regular price is $10.
I don’t
even remember when the State Fair dates are!
Gotta do some research. 😊
Look at the dollar
awards I collected:
Placemat $1.50
Mug rugs $1.50
Eagle pillow $1.50
Tea towels $1.50
Ribbon embroidery picture $1.50
Rug $1.50
Doll quilt $2.50
Lilies quilt $2.50
Throw quilt $2.50
Eagle quilt $2.50
I realize it’s just
a gesture, and is actually geared for the kids who enter... but it’s funny,
that the huge, heavy rug that I put hours and hours of hard work into got a
mere $1.50, while that silly little doll quilt that needed to be washed, and
was just a sew-around-the-edge, turn-it, and outline-a-few-things hurry-up job
from years back, got $2.50. In
comparison to all those other things, it barely deserved a penny. But, like the judge
wrote on the tag, it was cute. It was printed
cute; I didn’t make it cute. 😃
Last year our
Exhibit Hall was conspicuously empty – there weren’t very many entries in Open
Class section at all. I believe that was because entries were due the
last week of June, earlier than they’d ever been before, as the fair started the
first week of July. People missed the deadline because they didn’t expect
it so early, and the fair wasn’t properly advertised on radio, in newspapers,
or on billboards around town. The people who take care of the fair
competitions and do the judging asked several of us to please, please coax our
friends into entering more things next year.
It was quite a bit
better this year than last, but there just isn’t as much participation as there
used to be in years gone by, as there aren’t as many people who sew, quilt, do
craftwork of any kind, raise gardens, or do canning, baking, and cooking.
I like it better
when more people enter things, as the prizes are then more deserved. You’re going to win, you know, if you’re the
only one who entered in any given category. You can simultaneously get
first and last place. Ha!
Plus, I enjoy
seeing all the nifty and creative things people make and enter. It’s so
often someone else’s wonderful idea that gives me a little spark for something
of my own creation. I’m a better copycat than I am an artist, that’s
the truth of the matter. Some people can
come up with something amazing and spectacular right out of their very own
brain. Me, not so much. I generally have to start with someone else’s
glowing ember. 😄
Our neighbor man
brought us a bag of summer squash fresh-picked from his garden. So I have some now baking in the oven with
butter and brown sugar, and Larry is bringing home a bag of lettuce salad, and I’ll
slice the rest of the squash into it. We like lettuce salad, and the more
fresh vegetables in it, the better.
My thumb and wrist don’t
hurt at all most of the time, unless I turn my hand wrong. The brace keeps it feeling fine,
usually. I take it off each morning when I take a bath and wash and curl
my hair, and I try to be careful. But I
invariably wind up moving it wrong, and then there’s a sharp enough pain that I
want to yell about it. 😲 Each time that
happens, it sets the healing process back a bit. 😒
This morning, it
didn’t happen as often as it has been, so either I’m getting better at not
moving it wrong, or it’s actually improving. I’ve decided... it’s
improving. 😊
Time to make a cat
rooster quilt! Or a rooster cat
quilt. One or the other.
Thought for the
day:
Nitpickers often
wind up with headlice themselves.
,,,>^..^<,,, Sarah Lynn ,,,>^..^<,,,
You are a gifted lady, Sarah.
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