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| At the "Cruisin' the Canyon" Car Show in Creede, Colorado |
I like audio
books. It’s sometimes hard for me to read, with this Benign Essential
Blepharospasm that I have. I recently listened to the Bible (King James
Version) all the way through, read by an English man, Max McLean, British
accent and all.
There’s something
different about hearing the Bible through quickly like that – I listened to it
many hours a day, while I was sewing. It all goes together so
wonderfully, an integrated, amazing story ----- and it’s easier to tell exactly
how everything fits together, even when you know it does, when, for
instance, you get to the prophecies of Ezekiel the very next day after
listening to the entire books of the Samuels, Kings, and Chronicles. You just... remember it all
better. I’ve read the Bible through a few times, but it took a lot longer
than listening to it, because I never had time to simply sit and read one
chapter after another.
When the narrator
got to the last couple of verses – “Even so, come, Lord Jesus! ... ” I had a
rather let-down feeling, and then I thought, Well, that’s silly, and I
started it all over again with an American narrator, Paul Mims.
Makes one hear
different things, listening to it with different speakers.
I once found what I
thought would be an interesting audio history book on England. Aaarrrggghhh, I went into rigor mortis within
the first 15 minutes! I skipped ahead... passed out of boredom... awoke
momentarily to hear some gory bit about Queen Mary – Bloody Mary – and abruptly
switched to a biography on Jim Bridger, American frontiersman/mountain man. Ahhh. Much
bettah.
Last Monday
evening, Hester sent a video, entitling it, “Keira’s starting early at the piano. 😅 ” Andrew was holding the baby on his lap as he sat on the piano bench.
Funny thing was,
while her little hands were checking out the keys, she kept looking up at the
music, quite as if she was wondering, Now,
how do I transfer all those round things into sounds that come out under my
fingertips??
There’s
clearly nothing wrong with her hearing, either. One soft little note issued forth... and she
held very still, then looked up at the song as though to say, Was that the right note?
Tuesday evening,
Loren and Norma came to visit, bringing a warm dish of cornbread that Norma had
made. Larry got home from work shortly
thereafter, and I fixed chicken and broccoli to go with the cornbread. Yum.
Larry uses
voice-to-text when he’s driving his truck. That app outdoes auto-correct
for hilarity! Part of the problem is that the phone picks up the noise of
the truck and thinks it’s his voice.
Can you figure this
out? “I trade the posit ready and I didn’t
ticklish but I got some personal fuel knot for ties.”
Two minutes later,
he wrote again: “This voice-to-text is
for the birds.” haha
That first bit of
malarkey was in answer to my question, “Did you deposit your check? Did you get any money for tithes?”
What he meant, was this: “I made the deposit already, and I didn’t get
cash... but I got some for some fuel; not for tithes.”
Funny thing is, I
knew exactly what he meant. Nevertheless,
I wrote back, “What’s a fuel knot?”
Did you know that auto-correct
can be turned off on iPads... iPhones... or Android tables or phones? If you don’t want to watch and choose the
right word as you go, you can turn it off.
A quilting friend who’s in her 90s wrote to say that
she had recently texted her daughter, “I’ll be there as soon as I get the
teachers out of the dryer.”
Don’t you think that someone should teach
auto-correct that it’s t-shirts that
are in a dryer, and not teachers?!
My friend continued, “Some turn out funny; some are
so messed up even I don’t remember what
I was trying to say.” 😆
Late Wednesday
morning, Larry called to ask if I’d like to follow him to Omaha and bring him
home. He needed to take his truck to Aspen
Equipment to see if they might possibly
be able to fix the leak they were supposed to fix the last time, and didn’t.
I’m always glad to
go with Larry somewhere... but so much for getting the baby clothes done that day,
or going to Hobby Lobby for snaps and an applicator. I hoped the babies wouldn’t grow out of the
pajamas before I got them done! Carolyn
and Violet’s were done except for snaps, and Keira’s was about a third done.
I headed for the feathers a little sooner than usual
after church that night, as I would be getting up early the next morning to go
to Harlan, Iowa, to have a quilt appraiser, Jennifer Perkins, look at the
Americana Eagle quilt and the Sunbonnet Sue quilt. Harlan is 135 miles from our house. We went there one
other time, almost three years ago, to have the lady appraise my Mosaic
Lighthouse quilt.
Thursday morning at
9:20 a.m., having loaded everything I needed into the Jeep, I climbed in,
started the engine, and prepared to back out.
I looked to see if anyone was coming –
And there came Larry
lickety-split down the lane in his pickup.
He wheeled into the other
drive, jumped out, and headed for the house.
Then he spotted me in the Jeep, and came hurrying across the lawn with
his thumb out like a hitchhiker.
I rolled the window
down, and he asked, “Do you need a chauffeur?”
He’d taken the day
off, since it was raining, so I didn’t have to make the drive to Harlan, Iowa,
by myself. One can hardly begrudge the
rain when that’s the result of it,
can one?
It rained throughout
the entire trip, but not hard, and sometimes not much more than a drizzly mist. While Larry drove, I got a couple hundred pictures
edited. That’s another thing to appreciate about a rainy day: I can
see my screen well enough in the daytime to edit pictures!
Jennifer
Perkins’ home is an older house that’s all fixed up beautifully, and furnished
with antiques. Quilts and tatting old
and new are displayed here and there. She
even has one of those antique rectangular grand pianos! She and her husband are friendly and nice.
She will finish
writing up the quilt appraisals and mail them to me.
After leaving the
lady’s house and heading back west, we went to the Goodwill in Blair, Nebraska,
mainly to trot around the store and stretch our legs. We were getting stiff and sore from riding, and it
was still raining and chilly, so walking in the park didn’t seem like a great
idea. Larry spotted a package of
brand-new satin-covered hangers and I zeroed in on some puppy-dog bedroom
slippers, never worn, or so they appear. So that’s two more gifts for the
offspring’ns. Both things together only set us back about $4, so that was fine and
dandy.
A little later, we
stopped at a Starbucks in Fremont and used a gift certificate Lydia and Jeremy gave
us for our anniversary. We ordered bacon gouda egg sandwiches and a
pumpkin spice scone, which we shared. I
got mango-dragonfruit tea, and Larry had a strawberry something-or-other — oh,
it was a Serious Strawberry Frappuccino. (Serious drink, that. Nary
a one of those strawberries so much as cracked a smile.) There’s a little bit left on the card...
enough for a couple of coffees one of these days. 😊
Before leaving
Fremont, we went to the Hobby Lobby, and I got some Babyville Boutique plastic
snaps and a pair of Babyville Boutique snap pliers. It’s been so long since I applied snaps to
baby clothes, I didn’t even know they made such things.
After we got home, I
worked on the baby outfits (pajama bottoms, onesie, bonnet, and booties), finishing them that night.
The snaps and pliers worked great. One squeeze, and
the little plastic prong is smooshed and holding onto the opposing side neatly
and tightly.
While I sewed, the
washer and dryer chugged away. After
washing Larry’s work clothes, I washed the knit baby blanket, as the fold
crease in the white thermal knit was slightly discolored. The person who
gave it to me (yards and yards of it) hadn’t stored it in a bin, and had had it
for quite a while. The fabric, both top
and back, washed perfectly, and the line could be seen no more.
And then it was time
to hit the hay! It had been a long day.
Friday I had a fun
time delivering the baby clothes to Hester and Victoria. Before heading
into town, I stopped at Teddy and Amy’s house (they live ¼ mile from us) and
dropped off a bunch of boxes; Amy uses them in shipping things she sells on
eBay. As usual, the children came rushing to help. You should’ve
seen little Warren’s face (he’s 3 ½) when instead of a box, I put a giant jar
(55 oz.) of pretzels in his arms. “Do you think you can hold that?” I
asked him.
He nodded solemnly
and wrapped both arms around it as if I’d given him a Job of Great Value.
“Don’t eat them
all; share them!” I told him, “or you’ll turn into a pretzel!”
He giggled and went
off to tell brother Leroy that “Grandma said I was turning into a pigpen!”
I’d ordered that
jar without realizing how enormous it
was. Sooo... I used up a handful of pretzels
with the Nutella Teddy and Amy gave me for my birthday, and gave them the rest.
Emma brought out
the baby kittens for me to hold and pet, and Jeffrey, Grant, and Josiah brought
me several handfuls of fuzzy caterpillars. I assured them that we had
plenty at our house; I didn’t need to take theirs.
I dropped off a big
box of stuff at the Goodwill, then headed to Andrew and Hester’s house. Baby Keira is reaching for things now.
She looked and looked at the little clothes, then reached out a hand and got a
good grip on one of the little booties. She gives me such piercing looks,
I’m pretty sure she knows exactly what I’m thinking. She’s a little
farther advanced than she would be if she had’ve been born on time (she was
born a little less than 3 months early), and she’s progressing fast, both
mentally and physically. By the time she’s 12-18 months old, I think she’ll
be well caught up with other babies her age. Her little face is round and
plump and pink and pretty; one would never guess she was a preemie.
Kurt and Victoria
and their babies had just returned home from having family pictures taken at a
local studio. Carolyn is always delighted to see me. Gives one a
Grand Sense of Importance!
I held Baby Violet,
and she bequeathed a sweet little smile upon me – first time she has smiled at
me. But it wasn’t long before hunger pangs got the better of her, and I
gave her back to her Mama, fassst.
Little Carrie
looked on... and when I said, “Would you like Grandma to hold you now?”
she toddled over quickly, grinning and holding up her arms. There’s not
many things in this ol’ world that’s better than a hug from a sweet toddler,
you know that? She’s such a pleasant
little dear.
Home again, I put
away a load of clothes, fed the cats, and did a bit of housecleaning and
supper-making.
Norma called, and
she and Loren told us that our sister-in-law Annette had been taken to the
hospital with severe stomach pain. It was
her gallbladder causing the problem.
She’s had a rough
year and a half or so, being on chemotherapy for cancer... feeling better...
getting off chemo... and recently having to take it again. She’s been on blood thinners, so immediate
gallbladder surgery wasn’t really an option.
She’ll have surgery next week, I think.
That night, Victoria
sent pictures of Baby Violet with her new pajamas on, looking quite adorable. (And y’all know how factual and nonprejudiced I am.)
Larry and I went to the Dairy
Queen for Royal Cheesecake blizzards for dessert that evening. As usual, it gave me a stomachache. But it was
good.
I finished editing
the photos I took the day we went kayaking on Beaver Creek Reservoir last
month, and uploaded them: Kayaking If you prefer Facebook: Beaver
Creek Reservoir
Last night after
church, Lura Kay finally accepted the Sunbonnet Sue quilt on loan to display at
her house for a while. I offered to make
it and give it back to her when she first gave me the Sunbonnet Sue blocks, but
she wouldn’t hear of it.
The quilt appraiser
asked me what I planned to do with the quilt, and when I told her I was going
to let my sister display it at her house, if she wanted to, the lady quickly
advised me not to do that. “You might
not get it back,” she warned, in all seriousness.
She certainly
doesn’t know my sister, does she? She’s
probably heard a few stories of Big, Bad Quilt Fights.
Last weekend, on October 20, our oldest son Keith married
a lady named Kori (short for Korinne). She
has three children: Kaiden, 15; Keyara, 12;
and Kenzie, 10. Keith describes Kenzie as
“the firecracker of all.”
I told Keith to ask
Kori if she picked him just because his name starts with ‘K’.
“Her kids have always laughed about it,” he told me. Then, “She says no, because all her kids have six
letters. 😉 ”
They are planning a honeymoon to the Bahamas next spring. Kori has an uncle who manages hotels. He’s in the Bahamas now, and offered them
some very good deals.
Last Monday evening, Keith and Kori were sitting on their
couch scrolling through wedding pictures on Keith’s laptop, when suddenly a
tiny mouse ran across Kori’s arm and sat on her lap. She squealed and jumped up. Keith thought it must be a spider – she doesn’t
like them – but then he saw the mouse go running. He went after it – while behind him, Kori was yelling,
“DON’T KILL IT, DON’T KILL IT!!”
“It scampered off in another direction,” finished Keith, “and
now we have no idea where it is hiding with heart beating 300 mph! 🤔😂🤣🤨 ”
Oh, dear... that
email had me laughing. I wrote back and asked Keith if he remembered the
time...
We were all sitting
around the table eating supper – and a little mouse came creeping out from
under the stove. Someone yelled and pointed, and the wee thing scurried
rapidly back into his hidey hole. But every now and then, he poked his
nose out and checked air quality.
Sooo... I laid a
trail of cornflakes from the stove to ... a mouse trap.
Everyone sat
silently, not even daring to crunch a single bite.
The mouse
reappeared. He stared around the room... spotted the cornflake trail...
picked up the first one in his tiny paws... chowed down. He scampered to
the second cornflake... ate it... and thus made his way to the trap.
Everyone held their
respective breaths, and I belatedly wondered if they would have nightmares
forever after.
The mouse clambered
atop the trap, sat directly on the spring, and carefully and methodically
devoured the dab of peanut butter I’d put there. Then he climbed back
down, cleaned his whiskers, looked around at us in an ‘I do thankee kindly’
mien, and departed Stage Left.
Larry went for his
BB gun. I relaid the cornflake trail, not being quite as generous with the
cereal this time. I put another dab of peanut butter on the trap spring.
We sat and waited
not more than three minutes, and the mouse popped back out. Being a bit
full, he bypassed the cornflakes and went straight for the trap. Everyone
knows peanut butter is yummier than cornflakes.
He hopped onto the
trap, and began nibbling away at the peanut butter.
Larry quietly took
aim...
... pulled the
trigger...
BANG
But the BB gun,
being somewhat elderly, had lost some of its oomph. The BB traveled
slowly, and began a slight arching downward before it arrived at its target.
Instead of hitting
the mouse, the BB hit the trap. Yeah, Larry shot the mouse
trap clean out from underneath the mouse.
The mouse squeaked
in alarm and leaped skyward a good 18”. Then gravity got the better of
him and brought him back to earth, feet churning. He slipped and slid and
fell down before regaining his senses and taking off on a dead run to his
refuge under the stove, tail spiraling.
The kids all
laughed ’til they ran out of breath and it was dead silent for a moment or two
before everyone managed to gasp in some air and laugh some more.
I told Keith, “If Kori doesn’t
want to kill the mouse, get those
traps that just catch them, but don’t hurt them. Then you can put the
mouse in your gerbil cage and feed it filet mignon, or release it in
Guatemala. Your choice.”
I actually think
mice are quite cute, and they’re fun to watch --------- so long as they’re not
in my house. Aarrgghh, they can be so destructive and dirty.
And smelly.
One time I pulled
open the drawer under the stove, and there was a mouse in a very large pot.
It raced round and round and round, so fast I couldn’t catch it. (I was
trying to grab its tail; couldn’t quite bring myself to just grab the whole
thing with both hands. 😝 )
Aleutia, our
Siberian husky, came running. Now, that big dog was fast as greased lightning,
and could catch anything.
Problem: She
was pretty well convinced that I didn’t want her to catch
anything. She would only catch things when she thought I wasn’t looking.
“GET IT, ALEUTIA,
GET IT!!!!” I cried.
So the dog
obligingly stuck her head into the pan ------ but she would not open her
mouth and snatch that critter. As the mouse ran round and round and
round, Aleutia’s head went round and round and round, with her nose
practically on the mouse’s back.
Then she bumped it,
the mouse jumped a foot – and cleared the side of the pot. Away he went, pell-mell.
Aleutia sat down, looked up at me, grinned (yessirreeee, dogs most certainly DO
grin), and wagged.
“Did a good job,
didn’t I, huh, huh, huh?” she was clearly saying.
Sigghhhhh...
I set the traps.
Gotta git bizzy! I
have pictures to edit, quilts to make, and closets to clean. Furthermore, it’s my choice which I do
first! Things are lots more fun when you
get to choose.
,,,>^..^<,,, Sarah Lynn ,,,>^..^<,,,
