Journal: The Weeds Win

 

As I type, it’s a sunny 75°, with a breeze blowing at a steady 8 mph, with gusts up to 20 mph.  Or at least that’s what WeatherBug says.  Looking out the front windows, I see no wind at all; it looks dead still.  Quite a rarity, around these parts.

Once upon a time, we were in Cody, Wyoming, picking up van seats for Larry’s auto rebuilding business in a howling windstorm.  We would learn later that the gusts passed 70 mph.  I was trying to help Larry put a tarp over the seats in the back of the pickup.  Placing a tarp in 70 mph wind is not for the fainthearted. 

He brought the thing up and over the top, and I was supposed to hold while he strapped it down.

The wind kept blowing.  I got a grip, and hung on. 

The wind blew under the tarp and raised it, making it look quite a lot like the top half of the Hindenburg.  I hung on.

The wind blew.

I hung on.

That tarp lifted, taking my feet a-flying right off the ground, time and again.  

Once I had a small spare second of calm, looked up, barely able to peek through the fur on my hood well enough to see a thing – and there were Caleb and Victoria, ages 4 and 1 ½, peering at me through the back window of the pickup.  I couldn’t hear them at all, but both their mouths were wide open in huge, merry laughs.  Did they think I was flying around like that, totally out of control, entirely for their benefit and enjoyment?? 🤣😂😆

Tuesday, Caleb sent some cute pictures of Baby Eva.  She’s nine months old now.

That afternoon, I removed an almost-done quilt from the frame, trimmed off excess backing fabric from one side, and then added it to the bottom – because I ran out of backing fabric before I got to the end of the top fabric.

The lady had added extra fabric to the sides and the bottom of the backing for my clamps to hold onto.  Or so I thought.  And I measured carefully – or so I thought.

In actuality, the extra fabric had been added to the top, the bottom, and one side.  And as for thinking I had measured, ... obviously not. 

It’s always a pain when that happens; but at least it’s fixable.  The quilt was ready to be reloaded on the frame – and then it was time to fix Loren’s food.  That day it was Black Angus burger, baked potato, broccoli, peaches, a chocolate chunk/peanut butter chip cookie, Greek yogurt, and fresh-made lemonade (from 100% ReaLemon juice – I didn’t squeeze the lemons, but making it with that stuff is allllmost as good).

Loren, launching happily into his meal, told me, “I like everything you fix for me!  I’ve never found anything that I didn’t like.”

Now, that is far from the real case.  But right there is one occasion where I will definitely follow the advice of all those so-called ‘professionals’:  I will agree with him.  >snicker<

I gathered some things from his lower level, then took some of it to Hannah’s house, as she would be participating in a neighborhood yard sale Friday and Saturday. 

Leaving her house, I headed to Schuyler to meet the lady whose quilt I finished last week.

With one less quilt in my possession (always a good feeling), I turned toward Columbus.

I was still on the far east side of town when a friend called to ask if she could bring me a couple of quilts to do.  Since I would be going right past her house, I offered to stop. 

So I had five quilts in my possession, with at least one and maybe two on the way.

I hurried home, refreshed the birdbaths, and got back to the quilting.  I wish I had the birdbaths that connect to a hose!

When Larry got home, he used a zero-turn mower he had just fixed to mow the yard, making sure it worked, and getting the grass cut at the same time.  When he finished, he came in and gave me an animated explanation of what he had done to fix the mower, and how well it had worked.  I felt a lot like the prophets of old, hearing things from God ‘which they knew not’.

Keith wrote that evening, asking what Larry might need for Father's Day.  I gave him a couple of suggestions, then asked, “Is it hot there?” 

“Only 106 today,” answered Keith.

“‘Only,’” I retorted.  “Did it break the previous record for this date?”

“Yes,” replied Keith, “It set a record for high temp here in Utah.”

“It’s 87° here,” I told him.

“The ‘only’ was sarcasm,” added Keith.

“Yeah, I heard the tone,” I said.

“Tomorrow it will ‘cool down’ to 97 for a high,” he told me, “and then back up to the 100s through early next week again.  There’s been no rain for 24-30 days.  😬”

“Wow,” I said.  “I remember traveling through Utah when I was little, and it felt too hot to breathe.  I was really happy when we got into the high Sierras.”

“At least it’s a ‘dry heat’,” remarked Keith, “but the air quality isn’t so great.  There’s a lot of smog, because we are trapped between two mountain ranges.  We can only water two days a week due to water shortages.  We didn’t have a very good winter as far as moisture goes.”

Here’s our rig from that long-ago trip through the Salt Lake Desert when I was little.  We had a 26-foot (I think) Airstream and a Chevrolet Blazer.  I was about ten years old.  That’s my mother standing by the open passenger door of the Blazer.

I finished my customer’s Outer Space quilt at about a quarter ’til ten that night, and loaded the next one (from the same customer) – a blue and yellow U of M (University of Michigan) quilt.  It’s always easier to get started the next day when a quilt is ready and waiting, and all I have to do is flip the switch to turn on my Avanté, grab the handles, and start quilting.

This quilt measures 68” x 94”.  I used a pantograph called ‘UFO’.  There’s a medium teal (Stone Blue) 100% cotton 40-weight thread on top, and a charcoal Bottom Line 60-weight thread on the back.  The backings for both quilts are flannel.

It was 94° here Wednesday, with a heat index of 98°.  I’m thankful for air conditioning – at home and at church, both!  It was still really hot when we went to our midweek service that evening.

I did a little more quilting when we got home, getting almost to the halfway point of the U of M quilt.  I’m using 40-weight Omni thread on top in ‘Butter’ color, and 60-weight Bottom Line thread in the bobbin in a pale yellow.  The pantograph is ‘Football Gear’.  See the quilted helmet and football?

Thursday, we were issued a heat advisory.  Therefore, I went on watering the lawn and the flowers, drinking fresh lemonade... and quilting.  The little window air conditioner in the landing window upstairs was on high, and I placed a tall fan at a strategic point in my quilting studio.  It’s on days like those that I wish I was back downstairs, quilting in the basement! 

I do worry about my poor menfolk in construction, out working in that type of weather.

The ladies on an online quilting group were debating whether or not a husband and wife who had been given a quilt should share possession of said quilt, or if it should belong to the direct descendant of the quiltmaker.

Something somebody said reminded me of when one of my daughters-in-law used to run a small daycare in her home.  One day after some of the kids got into a bit of a fracas, she gave them all a lecture on sharing, while they looked at her with big eyes.  Then she hurried off to fix lunch.

She was soon interrupted by another fuss.  Rushing back into the living room, she found one little girl hanging onto a stuffed toy for dear life, squawking her indignation while a little boy tugged at the toy with both hands, crying, “Share!!!  Share!!!” 

Hopefully, my offspring’ns share the quilts I make them in a more mutually acceptable fashion.  One hates to think of one’s toiled-over quilt suddenly giving way in the middle of a tug-of-war and reverting back to its original state, raining down onto the tuggers in a shower of patch confetti.  🤣

I ate a late breakfast – half a toasted blueberry bagel, with lots of butter and boysenberry jam.  And a tall glass of milk.  Mmmmmm.  Then back to the quilting studio, back to the quilting studio I went.

While gathering up more things from that trick room in my brother’s lower level (looks like a small cubbyhole from the outside; opens to an auditorium filled with truckload upon truckload of bins and boxes, jetsam and flotsam) (remember, I never exaggerate), ... what was I saying? --- oh, yes:  I found a throw I once made my mother-in-law, several years ago.  It’s lavender and dusty green, and it’s a printed panel that I quilted to make it appear to be pieced.  It still looks like new.  I think I’ll give it to Lydia; her birthday is in less than a week.

The detour that I take to Loren’s house since they’re repaving the road closest to his house is gravel, and sooo bumpy.  You’d think the people that live in that housing addition, with all their big, beautiful, fancy houses, would complain! 

I remember when many of Columbus’ roads were not paved – in fact, the avenue right in front of the house where I grew up, next to the church, was gravel until I was about 9, maybe.

I recall my parents talking about the bill they would have to pay for the paving of our avenue.

I mailed off the two completed quilts to Cincinnati and loaded an Appliquéd Butterfly quilt from Washington State. 

Saturday was both Malinda’s and Nathanael’s birthdays.  She’s 4; he’s 15.  Malinda is Jeremy and Lydia’s little girl, the youngest of their four children; Nathanael is Bobby and Hannah’s third child of four.

I cut my hair that morning; it’s cooler now.  It had not occurred to me that there would be a big to-do last year when people were unable to get haircuts, as I’ve been cutting my own hair since I was 13.  Me do by self!

I washed the dishes, decluttered the table (who does that?!), swept, mopped, and vacuumed the floors, and was ready to resume quilting.

Loren’s supper that afternoon was meatloaf made from deer burger, green beans, strawberry cheesecake jello, Greek yogurt, green grapes, white cheddar cheese curds, a couple of dill pickle ‘slabs’, V8 cocktail juice, and lemon-limeade.  He had all but the grapes gone before I finished cleaning up another corner in his basement.  

I gathered up a lot of garbage that day, old newspapers and suchlike that were saved for kindling for the fireplaces.  Loren quit using them because the smoke bothered Norma so badly, and since he believes she’s still there now and then, he still doesn’t use them, and we are glad for that – one little silver lining to the cloud, eh? 

When I stuffed a bunch of trash into a box, a very small brass derringer pocketknife on a keychain fell out and landed on the floor.  Ah!  Perfect to toss into grandson Nathanael’s birthday bag (he’ll be getting his learner’s permit, after all; he’s 15!), which was out in the BMW.

I found an old file bin with military papers, photos, a marriage photo of Lawrence (Norma’s late husband) and Phyllis, his first wife who died of cancer, his will, birth, death, and marriage certificates, etc.  I returned those to his daughter yesterday; she was pleased to get them.

I discovered some of Norma’s crafting things – cross-stitched tea towels, some done and some almost done – that Hannah will keep and finish, a cross-stitched baby blanket, partly done, that Hester will keep and finish, and a few other keepsakes for some of the other kids. 

Halfway to Nathanael’s house, I considered whether or not the tiny derringer on the keychain might be real. 

“I didn’t want you to pick it up, pull the trigger, and make someone way off down the block jump out of his or her socks and raise a howl!” I told Nathanael, as he laughed. 

The boy is 15!!  15.  😲

We gave him a large hardback John Deere book telling about huge tractors right down to small collectible model tractors (complete with lots of pictures), a little blue pocketknife/multi-tool with a tiny flashlight that doesn’t work (and I couldn’t figure out how to open it and insert a new button battery; I told him to let me know the price of the battery when he figures it out [he will]), and a rock that his late Great-Great Aunt Lois painted scenery on, years ago.

He particularly liked the John Deere book... but it ran a close race with that rock his Great-Great Aunt Lois painted so many years ago.  He’s always been a sentimental child.  I don’t think he noticed that the little shed in the foreground (mountains in the background) on that rock... is an outhouse. >>snicker<<  (His parents will notice, I betcha.)

Oh! I knew I was missing something else we gave Nathanael: a vintage painted tin plaque of Lionel trains.  He thought that was pretty nifty.

After getting home, I filled the bird feeders, refreshed the birdbaths, and quilted another row on the Appliquéd Butterfly quilt.  A short break to eat a banana and drink a cup of lemon-limeade, and then I went back to quilting.

When I quit for the night, there were only about two more rows to go.  Hopefully, I’ll be able to finish that quilt tomorrow.

As I was curling my hair Sunday morning, I watched the birds at the feeders.  The bright red papa cardinal brought one of his babies to the feeder.  I recognized that high-pitched cheep-cheeping before I ever saw that little buffy-red fledgling with the straggly, pointy little mohawk atop his noggin.

After the Sunday morning church service, Hester and Andrew gave Larry a bag of cream-filled chocolates for Father's Day. 

We gave Malinda her birthday gift:  a large pink and green case with an interior shelf and three plate-sized, lidded, divided containers.  I put little things in each section of every container:  a tiny porcelain doll, a tiny jointed bear, a small folding mirror, a page of stickers, a small Venice lace umbrella, a wee porcelain teacup magnet (she loves tiny things; can you tell?), a ribbon flower pin, and a large stuffed bumblebee holding a large stuffed heart.  She was plumb delighted with all the things in that case.  She got to go to children’s Sunday School for the first time that day.  High Excitement!

Victoria asked us to stop by to get a gift for Larry – and, like last week, she again gave us a plate full of food from her roaster (roast beef, baked potato, carrots, and onions, plus a banana) to take to Loren.  Then she gave Larry a bowlful, too, while we protested that we didn’t want to take food from the mouths of her family.  She laughed and ignored our protests.

When we got home after taking the food to Loren, Larry offered to share, but I wanted something else, so he happily chowed down.

After the service last night, Caleb and Maria gave him several cuts of meat, with seasoning for them.  Larry broiled a couple of New York strips when we got home.

When we walked onto our deck on our way into the house, I spotted the ripe mulberries hanging from the branches that have grown up over the side of the rail.  I’d been drooling over them for the last two days and refraining from picking any because I didn’t want to go to church with purple fingers (or teeth). 

I was done refraining.

I grabbed a couple of fat, juicy ones as I went by, and they were so good, I laid down my Bible, purse, and coffee Thermos and just waded right in.  Larry, ahead of me, didn’t see what I was doing.  He went on in, changed clothes – and came to find me.  I was still in the middle of the mulberry branches gobbling down scrumptious mulberries.

Yep, fingers and teeth were purple.  But I was being really, really careful, and had neither stepped on any berries with my good shoes or gotten any purple stains on my satin and lace suit.

Bobby and Hannah came visiting, bringing Larry a generous-sized covered dish of food (baked ham, green beans, a twice-baked potato [“What was wrong with it the first time?” asked Larry]), which he shared with me, and a gift card to Super Saver.

Do you think our kids think I’m starving their father?!  🤣

It was much cooler this morning than it’s been for a good three weeks, and I really needed to do some weeding.  I went outside a little after 9:00 a.m.  

I’d barely gotten started when I tried pulling up a small volunteer tree.  It had a long root, but it was coming up... so I kept a grip and just went on pulling – and suddenly there was a loud POP! in my lower back, and I knew it wasn’t good.  I sat down on the ground for a bit, then thought maybe I was all right, and could continue, so I got up.  But my back and legs were hurting, and I was beginning to have trouble walking, and bending over was very painful.

I managed to walk inside, take a bath, and wash my hair – with difficulty.  Sitting is hard... standing hurts...  This isn’t good. I have too much to do to have a back injury!  I put a cold pack on it, which helped a little.  Sitting hurt worse than standing, but I was soon getting really tired of standing.

Ugh!  Why wasn’t I smarter than that?!  I was on my way around the house with the new Gorilla cart, with which I haul weeds, heading for the front garage door and the clippers and the little shovel.  I stopped when I spotted that wayward sapling, and tugged at it.  I thought, Maybe I should cut this thing, instead of pulling it, but, like I said, it was gradually coming up.  So stupid of me to keep trying.

How do I take care of Loren, when I can’t take care of my own dumb self?  Aarrgghh!

Larry came home, found a better gel pack in the freezer, and dug out some Aleve from the medicine cupboard.  He went upstairs to get the wide elastic band Caleb once gave me for my back.  It has magnet strips at the back that are supposed to be helpful, but they aren’t doing any good at the moment, because mostly I’m using it to keep the gel packs in place.  However, the tightness of the band itself seems to make my back feel better.

Probably what I have is a slipped or herniated disk. I’ve been diagnosing myself, ha! – from several articles from The Spine Health Institute, The Ortho Info Organization, Healthline dot com, WebMD, and the Mayfield Clinic, and judging from the fact that all my appendages are still working all right, I believe my back should feel better in a couple of days, and heal in three or four weeks.

The girls will help with meals for Loren.  He’ll get a bit confused if a variety of girls bring food to him; but... oh, well.  He’s friendly, and he enjoys talking with people.  Others aren’t always quite sure how to answer him if his conversation wanders off the beaten track.  I tell them, “Just launch into a tale of your own!”

Caleb, upon hearing me say this, made a funny face and said, “But Mama!  We don’t have as many stories up our sleeves as you do!”

“Just tell one of mine, then!” I retorted.  😄

Hannah, who doesn’t feel so well herself, offered to take Loren a meal today.  She inquired as to whether there was a detour to get to his house, so I sent her a map that I marked in PaintBox.  “If you wind up in someone’s garage by mistake,” I recommended, “just give ’em the ‘Princess Diana wave’, reverse outa there, and try again.”

Lydia commiserated with me and advised that I might need to see a chiropractor.

I protested, “Aiiiiiiyiiiiiieeeeeee!  Noooo.”  Then, “The gel packs are helping.  Plus, it feels better if I can complain to large numbers of people at once.  So I told Daddy, all my daughters, and a large quilting group.  Sympathy and advice are rolling in like friendly ocean waves.”

Grandson Levi, who just got a new flip phone, wrote, “How is your back?”

“Owie owie owie owie,” I responded.  “Like that.”

“Looks like you need a chiropractor,” he said, following in his Aunt Lydia’s footsteps.

“EEEeeeeeeeeeeeek!” I answered.

“No chiropractors,” he immediately replied.  😂

“Righto,” I agreed.  “They might touch me!  No touch, no touch.  🤕”  I explained further, “A massage might be okay; an adjustment would most assuredly make a paraplegic out of me.  Then I’d have to walk on my hands.”

Now and then I rubbed on some analgesic:  first, Pain-A-Trate, then some Capsaicin, and, a little later, Absorbine Plus.  I have no idea which one works the best.  I’m for Equal Opportunity for Topical Pain Relief gels/liquids/lotions!

Hester wrote to say she would take Loren some food Wednesday, and inquired into whether I had ibuprofen.  I assured her I did.  

“And thank you!” I added.  “I’ll call him as usual at 3:00 that day and let him know you’re coming.  A couple of times he’s gotten confused when I said ‘Hester’, and thought I was talking about our mother (after whom Hester was named).  I keep telling him stories and showing him pictures of all you kids and the grandchildren, and most of the time he remembers.

“He never forgets that Keira was only 2 pounds, 8 ounces, when she was born, and often says what a sweet little smile she has, and mentions that she looks healthy and bright.”

Hester said, “She seems to think he’s possibly a Grandpa of some kind, so always smiles at him. 😄”

Then it was the usual time to call Loren.  I told him about my back, and said that Hannah would be bringing him some food.  He thanked me and said, “You raised good cooks!”  I did at that, though I don’t know how much credit belongs to me; they’re all pretty good at creating entrées on their own.  😊 

“I might have some things that would help your back,” said Loren, “but they’re probably ‘over at the house’.”

Unable to help myself, I asked, “Where are you?!” (though I well knew, of course).

He laughed and started describing his house, ‘up north here’.  (He lives on the north side of town, on a bit of a hill.)

So I asked, “Just how many houses do you have?!”  (Yeah, yeah, I know; I shouldn’t do that, hee hee.)

He laughed again, and then wasn’t sure how to answer.  So I repented myself of my smart-aleckiness and assured him, “That’s the house I always come to each day,” and then hurriedly told him about a robin that had just landed on the shepherd’s hook right outside the door, not seeing me, so enrapt was he with a fellow robin hogging the birdbath.

Then he turned his head, suddenly noticed me, and took off in such a flurried rush, he nearly spun clear upside down before he got going.  He soon took himself to the birdbath, ostensibly to calm and cool his rattled feathers.

So Loren was laughing over all that, and quit worrying about which house he might be in at the moment, how many houses he might possibly own, and which house in particular holds the medical supplies. 🤕 🥴

We hung up – and then I realized that something good had come out of this IBF (Injured Back Fracas):  the chocolate chip/peanut butter chunk cookie I had baked for Loren last night wasn’t going to get eaten unless —

<smack smack crunch crunch smack<

Hannah wrote to tell me, “I actually have enough food to make two meals for Uncle Loren.”  She sent a picture and added, “There are pears, too.”

“That sounds good,” I told her.  “He will like that.”

She wondered if it would work to take both meals at once.

“I have done it when we were going to be gone,” I said.  “I’ve put the second meal in a box with a big label on the side reading, “Saturday’s Supper” (or whatever day it will be) and then put it in the refrigerator at eye level.  I then call him at the normal time and remind him about the food.  Turns out, I also need to call him at the time I usually get there, and remind him to actually eat it.  I also give him very careful instructions for the microwave – and never know if he really warms anything up or not.  I think he does.”

Hannah said, “Everything is fully cooked, so it won’t hurt him if he eats it cold.  But I don’t have a box.  What do you recommend I do with the second set of dishes?”

“Put them in his refrigerator,” I replied.  “Do you have any sticky notes to put on them?”  Then I remembered, “He has sticky notes on his table, last time I looked.  But random travelers-through-the-house ‘lift’ stuff like that.”

As it turned out, when Hannah would’ve put the notes on the dishes, he insisted he didn’t need notes (trying to save her a few extra seconds of work, you know) – so she didn’t put any on.

“He’s either overly confident in his remembery skills,” I said, “or he’s really hungry and plans to eat tomorrow’s dinner, too, as soon as he’s done with the first meal, after you go.  😄”

(Not really.  He’s not a very big eater.)

“Was he glad to see you?” I asked.  “I think he gets lonesome.”

“Yes,” replied Hannah.  “He said the food tasted good and he really appreciated it.”

“I forgot to tell you,” I belatedly recalled, “I try to refrain from ever saying the word ‘leftovers’.  He associates it with botulism, salmonella, and campylobacter.”  😂

“I didn’t tell him it was leftovers,” Hannah answered, “so he probably thinks I made it today.”

“Except ---” said I, “I spoiled everything by telling him how good it was, because you ‘gave us some last night!’  🙄  Hopefully, that’ll be one of the things he forgets.  I rattled on about the robin afterwards.”

And now I shall go find out if lying in bed is a comfortable thing to do after one has damaged one’s back quite good and proper.

,,,>^..^<,,,          Sarah Lynn          ,,,>^..^<,,,