Journal: A Boiler, A Quilt, A Cozy, and Snow

Last Tuesday evening, we went to town and picked up Mexican food at El Matador for the first time in a long time – and Larry managed to eat it fairly well with his new dentures.  But... the food wasn’t as good as I was expecting.  Fact is, I haven’t had any fast food I’ve liked, other than Subway, for a long time.  Not that I eat it very often.  I guess I just prefer real food, made fresh and from scratch, as opposed to fast food.

Larry has to take little bites... small sips... and if he sloshes warm coffee around his mouth, the Polygrip releases its grip.

I told him, “You’re going to learn to be all mannerly, despite yourself!” 

He laughed.

It’ll get better, as his dentures are periodically resized to fit his still-changing mouth.  Meanwhile, he’s glad to have no more abscesses, and no missing, broken teeth.

Even his hearing has improved – all that infection must’ve been affecting his ears.  Also, he doesn’t snore as much.  That’s good for both of us.  😃

That day, I worked on the New York Beauty quilt and got the top pieced border done.

The copper-coated Dutch oven that I ordered for Kurt’s brother, Timothy, and his fiancée, Allison, who are getting married March 17^th, arrived that day.  It’s quite a nice one; I’m pleased.  Sooo... I decided... maybe... reluctantly... I would pause with the quilting of the NYB and make a casserole dish carrier/cozy and some potholders to go with that Dutch oven.

Wednesday I cut all the pieces for the dish carrier, and sewed a few of them together.  I had to sew more pieces together than the pattern calls for, because I didn’t have quite enough fabric – at least, not lengthwise.  I even had to piece together the Insul-Bright.

I always feel all thrifty and economical when I can eke a project out of my somewhat meager supplies, without buying a speck of fabric or batting or thread.  😉

I was hurrying... hurrying... because while I worked on the casserole dish cozy, the New York Beauty quilt was sitting right there on my frame staring at me reproachfully.

That night after church, we had a quick little meal, and then Larry headed for bed, because he was leaving for Kansas City the next morning to get an outdoor wood-burning stove and boiler that sends hot water through pipes into the house to help heat it.  He found a little-used setup that only cost a fraction of the price of a new one.

This heating system will take the place of the old wood-burning stove in our basement, which I am mighty glad to abandon, especially after the Hot Chimney Episode.  I never felt completely safe using that thing from the time we moved out here; it was too old to suit me.  

Since the ceiling of the garage (which is also the floor of the addition, i.e., master bedroom) is not insulated yet, Larry plans to put CPVC pipes from that boiler into the garage rafters – thus warming the floor of the new master bedroom.  Here’s the general principal:  Central Boiler Outdoor Wood Furnace

Larry left before 6:00 a.m. Thursday.  At a quarter after 8:00 p.m., he texted me, “Happy Valentine’s Day.  Should be home about 10.”

He got back a little before 11:00 p.m.  That was a pretty close estimate, for him!  His internal clock has always been overly optimistic.

This is what he brought me for Valentine’s Day: à

Earl Pickles, of comic strip fame, wrote his wife, Opal, a poem:

It was a windy, windy day, making it a bit difficult to haul that wood-burning stove and shed home; but had Larry waited until the next day, it would’ve been even worse, since snow started coming down, and the roads between here and there were slick.

A conversation we had that night reminded us of something that happened at the dinner table when Victoria was 3, and Caleb was about 6 ½.

They were sitting side by side, when Victoria suddenly noticed a small spot on Caleb’s cheek.  She clambered onto her knees to get a better look.  Then, pointing, “Caleb, what’s that on your face??”

And Caleb responded, in all sincerity, “It’s a weasel.”

I always tried to never laugh right in my kids’ faces.

I tried.

I completed the casserole dish cozy that night.

Friday, I started the laundry... filled the bird feeders... washed the dishes... put away the groceries that had arrived via UPS from Wal-Mart... fed the cats and medicated the hyperthyroidac (should be a word)... and then I headed to the quilting studio to finish the matching hotpads and finger potholders to finish. 

The hot pads came about because that’s how much one has to cut off of the ends of the dish carrier pieces... and the fingertip potholders are made from the eight triangles one cuts to make the carrier pieces pointed at the ends.  I couldn’t bear to waste all that.  😃  (The hotpad and fingertip potholder on the right are upside down, so the backs can be seen.)

And now for another Tip O’ Ze Day:

Here’s a fact:  Things go faster when you don’t sew a Kleenex into the back of your quilt-as-you-go project.

You’re welcome, you’re welcome.  Alleeze glad t’ help. 

>>curtsy<<

(The Kleenex was soon out, and I didn’t even have to take the seam apart.  I pulled as much out as I could with my fingers, then used that little rubbery top that comes on some seam rippers [and looks like a honey twirler].)

It started snowing that afternoon, and by a quarter after three, we had about an inch.  It petered out after that, and didn’t start snowing in earnest until the next day.

While I quilted that evening, Larry finished that wall just to the right of the chimney.  He only had the top half and the corner to do, but it was a bit tricky to get the angle precise on the upper left side.

Saturday, while the snow came swirling down, I quilted.  After six more hours of quilting, the top borders and a little of the side borders were done on the New York Beauty quilt.

I’m ready to start the blocks!  I need a new ruler.  I need one with small scallops.  Wonder if HandiQuilter has one?  I should look...

Oh!  Never mind about the ruler.  I just discovered that the smallest in my half-circle ruler set from HQ is exactly the right size.  😊

I woke Larry up earlier than usual Sunday morning so he could scoop the snow off the porch and the sidewalk out to the jeep.  He filled the bird feeders, too.  They looked like giant marshmallows before he brushed the snow off.  We had 8-10 inches of snow, depending on where one measured the stuff (or which weather report one read).

Sunday afternoon, Hester sent a video of Keira playing with one of their cat’s toys.  It was one of those long-handled things with a cluster of feathers on the end of a cord.  As Keira waved it, the cat lay nearby, tail swishing.

Keira watched the cat... waved the toy... the cat lay still, other than its tail.  Keira kicked her legs vigorously, as if to say, “Come on, Kitty, PLAY!”

Spooky turned and stared at the camera in Hester’s hand, as if to answer, “Not while yer ma’s lookin’.”  

Keira had the right idea about that cat toy, but getting it to work exactly right was trickier than it looked.  And that cat would just lay there.  Oh, well.  When all else failed, she just chewed on the handle.

Keira reminds me of Hester, who was a bundle of energy when she was a baby.  Arms and legs were always going like windmills.

Hester said that the cat, who’s still not much more than a kitten, plays like a wild thing with her and Andrew; but with Keira she’s very careful.  Keira really likes that kitty.

Isn’t it amazing how animals – some of them, anyway – know they should be more gentle with a child?  We used to have a spunky pony who would really kick up her heels when Larry got on her.  But when he put Teddy, just a little guy, up on her back, that pony would settle right down, and walk smoothly and serenely.  Even if she trotted, she’d not rock back and forth hard, if Teddy was riding her.  And Teddy would giggle and laugh the entire time, because it tickled his tummy.  He was 6.

Our big Siberian husky, Aleutia, would roughhouse with Larry, tugging on ropes and suchlike, making that funny play-growl noise so typical of a husky... but she would never tug on that rope with me, nor with any of the children. 

A friend wondered if it was because Aleutia was a ‘one-person dog’.

I don’t know about the breed in general, but ours in particular was bonded almost equally to the entire family.  Larry and I used to play with her by calling her when we were about equidistant, on opposite sides of her.

She’d turn her head one way, then the other, looking at us. 

Then her big flag of a tail would start waving, she’d point her nose straight up at the sky, say, “AarrroOOOOOOoooOOOOOoooOOOO!!!!”  We’d laugh at her, and she’d prance happily from one to the other, back and forth.  Never could tell who she loved best.  She treated us both as her master/mistress, and the children as... well, as sort of her equals, playmates.  She was careful with them, and protective of them.  When the dog would walk by any of the babies, especially if the baby was in a walker, I’d say, “Careful of your tail!” (it was right at the baby’s face level, and a big, tough tail at that) – and that bright doggy would stick her usually-always-waving tail out stiffly to one side, away from the baby, until she got past. 

I’d praise her, “You’re such a good dog!” and she’d dance back and forth, from both left feet to both right feet, like she was doing some sort of waltz.

Here’s a story from an old journal, written just a few months after we got her:

We got Aleutia when our sixth child, Hester, was a baby.  Siberian huskies are notorious for having a mind of their own, and can be stubborn about it.  It takes patience, love, and some determination to properly train a husky.  During the first 3-6 months, I was sometimes exasperated with that dog, and wondered if we’d been nuts to get her.  After all, Hester was only six months old when we brought the puppy home, and there were five other young children in the house, too, which limited the amount of time I could spend training the puppy.  But I wouldn’t have an undisciplined dog in the house, so I gave her as much time as I could.

{Here she is at ten weeks old:  à  }

And then one day, the dog herself put my doubts to rest, and I decided she was a keeper.

Aleutia was in the back yard, and I heard her whine to come in.  The back garage doors were shut, as it was a hot summer day.  I walked through the garage to open the back door, leaving open the door that led into the kitchen.  Upon opening the back garage door, Aleutia came bounding into the garage, spotted the open kitchen door, and headed toward it on a dead run.  I could see that she was going to jump the entire set of steps from the garage up into the kitchen. 

And then something unexpected happened:  Little Hester walked over to the door and stood looking out. 

That wasn’t all.

Directly behind her, opposite the garage door, the basement door stood open.  Hester, about 14 months, was well capable of going up and down the stairs by then, and had been downstairs in her sisters’ bedroom.

Horrified, I could clearly see what was about to happen:  the dog, already at the base of the steps, would jump, hit the baby, and knock her tumbling down the yawning basement stairs.

I cried words I knew the dog understood:  “Aleutia, careful of the baby!!!”

And then the most amazing thing happened.  That big dog, already launching into flight, twisted her entire body sideways in midair, tucked her feet up tight against herself, and in that position, whizzed past Hester at waist height, and then, unable to recover herself, landed with such a hard thud on her side on the kitchen floor that she knocked the wind out of herself. 

“OOOOOFFFFFFFF!!!” went the dog.

Hester, who had only had time to squinch (should be a word, and would be a word, had Noah Webster seen Hester) her eyes tight shut when she realized her peril, opened them cautiously, and stared in astonishment at the dog, lying gasping on the floor.  She knelt beside her and touched the dog’s head gently. 

“Oh, po’, po’ doggy, you falled down!” she exclaimed. 

I dashed up the steps and knelt beside Hester to stroke the dog’s thick fur.  “You’re a good dog,” I told her.  “A good, good dog!” 

And I extracted a treat from the refrigerator with which to reward her.

Aleutia gathered her wits, scrambled to her feet, wagged a happy thank-you, and devoured her treat.  She spent the next few minutes trotting gladly from one to the other of us as we petted and praised her, quite wearing out her big flag of a tail in the process.

A dog that will save the baby at all costs, including harm to herself, is worth keeping, don’t you agree?

More dog stories upon request.  Or cat stories, if you insist.

Movie at eleven.

*        *        *

This picture was taken when she was quite a bit older, probably about 9 years old.

That afternoon, Larry cleared our lane and the neighbors’ drive with tractor and blade, then puttity-putted off to Teddy’s house, so Teddy could clear his road and drive.

The neighbor man gave us a dozen fresh eggs in return.  We have a hard time staying even with those generous people!

After church last night, we went to Wal-Mart for a couple of grocery items and a birthday present for Jeremy and Lydia’s little Ian, who will be three years old in a couple of days.  We got a big bucket of large Lego, and the lid does double duty as a yellow hard hat. 

Todd and Dorcas’ little Trevor will also be three in about a week.  So today I placed an order at Amazon, and had it sent there.  Dorcas says he loves books that do stuff... he loves Bible stories... and he loves flannel boards ----- so I ordered a big hardback Bible story book about the Creation, with flannel pieces to stick into the pages, which have flannel inserted at strategic points.  

The sun is shining today, making yesterday’s snow sparkle.  We are expecting more snow in the next few days.

The bird feeders are full (again! – whoever coined the phrase ‘eat like a bird’ wasn’t in the habit of filling bird feeders, that’s for sure), and the birds are clustered around them.  The majority are American goldfinches, but there are also pine siskins, English sparrows, house finches, blue jays, Northern cardinals, red-breasted nuthatches, dark-eyed juncos, Eurasian collared doves, mourning doves, and downy woodpeckers.

I have decided on the quilting design for the New York Beauty blocks.  I’m excited to start.  Therefore, I shall end this letter, and do just that!

But first, I’ll make some fresh coffee.  I sure will be glad when I get this bag of icky-yucky coffee used up and can move on to a bag that I know is yummy-good.  (Maybe I should stop being miserly and parsimonious, and just throw it in the worm bin?) 

                           

,,,>^..^<,,,     Sarah Do I Have A Worm Bin Lynn     ,,,>^..^<,,,