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Monday, October 4, 2021

Journal: Quilting Unicorns & Green Gables



Tuesday, I opened the box from Joyce, the lady in Phoenix, pulled out her pretty quilt, and started loading it on my quilting frame.

This quilt can be made from one ‘layer cake’ – a set of about 42 10” x 10” pieces of fabric.

I like the pattern, and it’s given me an idea for the layer cake Kurt and Victoria gave me a few months ago.  The fabric in my layer cake would certainly make a whole different quilt than Joyce’s, wouldn’t it?  I’m not sure there’s enough contrast; I might have to add some black-on-black and some white-on-white.



I want to put black fleece or minky on the back, and probably give it to Kurt.  But I must, must make a throw for son Teddy first!  I’ve made throws for three of the sons-in-law, and none for Teddy!!!  Yikes, how did that happen.

One day when Teddy was 2, I told him, “Teddy, did you know that your real name is Theodore?” 

He giggled.  “Noshuh.”

“Yes, it is,” I said.  “It’s Theodore Lyle Jackson.  That’s your name.”

Another giggle, and a shake of the head.  “Noshuh!”

“Yes, Teddy!” I worked harder to convince him.  “It says ‘Theodore Lyle Jackson’ on your birth certificate!  Teddy is your nickname.  Your real name is Theodore.”

He became more adamant than ever.  “Noshuh!!!  I is a Teddy!” 

Hee hee  He sure enough is just that – a Teddy.  (And he’s still skeptical about things.)

It was time to call my brother Loren – but, according to the Vyncs tracer, he’d gone to Tom’s camper sales, probably looking for his camper again.  As usual, he didn’t have his cell phone with him, either.

He got home before too long, and answered his phone the next time I called.

No, he did not want me to bring him any food.  He wasn’t hungry, he didn’t feel like eating, he’d already eaten, and he needed to talk with me about something – but, as he said, “I don’t know how to describe it.”  (He often has trouble putting words together, and remembering specific words.)  Finally, he said, “Someone is trying to derail me!”

Since I knew where he’d been, I knew exactly what he was talking about, but I didn’t offer any clues.  If he can’t think what to say, we don’t have to have the conversation, right?

But eventually he asked why the State Patrol would’ve told us, rather than him, that they did not want him driving his – uh... his, ‘equipment’.

Now, I do answer pointblank questions clearly and honestly.  So... I launched into yet another explanation of what had happened east of North Platte last year. 

He immediately interrupted.  “That was over a year ago!” 

(How does he remember that, I’d like to know??)

“Yes,” I agreed, and continued with my account of his hunt for ‘Norma’ at the rest area where he was parked, of helpful people looking for her, too, until they got worried and called 911.  Emergency vehicles arrived... the State Patrol came – and then, upon looking up information on both Loren and Norma, they discovered she had passed away several months earlier, and thus realized Loren was confused.

“And no, there’s no ‘other Norma’,” I said to his predictable protest.

I didn’t get a whole lot farther in the dialog before Loren suddenly exclaimed, “I knew it was you who’s behind all this!  You talked to the State Patrol and got them to stop me, you’re the one who caused them to say I shouldn’t go anywhere, and it’s your fault there’s a hitch lock on my camper!!!”

“No,” I told him, “none of us called the State Patrol; they called first Robert and then us, and told us what had happened – and then we had to drive to North Platte so Larry could drive your pickup and camper home again.  But we are all in agreement, you mustn’t drive the pickup and camper anymore.  As they said, you are getting things much too confused, and it would be a serious mistake to try taking that rig somewhere.”

“That isn’t true at all!” he blustered, and added, “You are very oppressive!”

I decided at that point that ‘kind and tactful’ was no longer the proper method.

“Everything I’ve told you is exactly true,” I said.  “And I am not oppressive; you are, and you have been for years.  But God will no longer let you get by with that.  When I told you we didn’t want you to take your rig on a vacation, you said you didn’t have to listen to me, and you didn’t have to do a thing I said.  But, as you’ve discovered, you do have to.”

He forgets things and gets them mixed up, but he did remember saying that to me a few weeks ago.  He stopped arguing – but then he decided to say “I don’t know what you’re talking about” to anything else I said.

“Yes, you do,” I said; “I said it very clearly, and I know you understand that much.  It’s not that you don’t know what I’m talking about; it’s that you don’t like it.”  Then I added, “And I’m not going to argue about it anymore; it doesn’t do any good.”

So we said goodbye – him in a subdued tone – and hung up.

Ugh, ugh.  Dementia isn’t nice.  It takes people’s un-nice traits through the years, reinstates them, and multiplies them by the power of ten.

As I’ve said before, I cannot let him talk to me like that, or I will no longer be able to help him with food, laundry, etc.  I must stand my ground, or he gets worse.  It’s upsetting, though.  I never, ever want to be unkind.

I went back to loading the quilt backing on my frame, steaming it as I rolled it onto the bar, so there would no odd wrinkles or tucks back there where I might not notice.  I then put the batting atop the backing, laid down the quilt top, stitched it into place, and rolled it onto the top bar.  The batting wanted to hang onto it, and I didn’t want to damage that nice batting (Quilters’ Dream Puff, a high-loft polyester batting), so I took it slowly and carefully. 




How do people on YouTube load quilts in 15 minutes, I wanna know??!!!  And are those quilts square when they’re done???  It took me a couple of hours to get everything just right and ready for quilting.  Joyce had chosen a pantograph called ‘Unicorns and Glitter’.



I sent her a few pictures of the progress, writing, “Annnnnnnd... we begin!  I’m putting unicorns in their places.”





“I just love watching it all happen,” she responded.  “I thank you so much for sharing this part of the journey.  I would never see it any other way.”

When I quit for the night at about 11:30 p.m., I had three rows done.  Each row took about 19 ½ minutes.  I sent Joyce a few more pictures, entitling the email, “Quilting unicorns, unicorns, unicorns...” and telling her, “If I take length of quilt divided by width of pantograph minus rows already completed times rows yet to be done times minutes spent per row divided by number of minutes in an hour, I see that I have 3.7778125 hours of quilting to go, plus time spent winding bobbins, rolling the quilt forward, trimming and releasing the quilt from the frame, and taking pictures.  And let’s not forget about coffee refills and cat feedings and pettings and discussions.”

I added a postscript:  “By the way, I close the door to the upstairs when I come down for the night, so big ol’ Tiger kitty can’t cuddle up in the batting when I’m not looking.”  (The batting drapes down from the frame and onto the floor.)

5:30 p.m. Wednesday found me past the halfway point on the Unicorn Ribbons quilt.  There were singers from the 30s warbling away on my laptop.  Many of the songs were patriotic.  However, some of the singers were totally aggravating and annoying.  This is good, because it keeps me quilting ------ ’cuz if the longarm is percolating along across the quilt top, I can hardly hear the caterwaulers.  Ha!

It was time to get dressed for church.  Our service is at 7:30 p.m.  I get ready early so as to be out of Larry’s way when he comes skinning in from work with barely enough time to take a bath and get dressed before we go rushing out the door.  I was garbed in glad rags in 15 minutes flat and back at the quilting frame.

The ‘getting out of Larry’s way’ scheme turned out to be unnecessary, because he didn’t get home from work in time to come to church.

I had earlier reminded Loren that the service started at 7:30 p.m.  “Are you sure?” he asked, and then, before I could reply, he answered himself, “Oh, yes – it’s 7:30 on weekdays.  6:30 and 7:30, 6:30 and 7:30; they just keep switching back and forth!” 

(Our Sunday evening services are at 6:30 p.m.)

I thought, You shouldn’t be saying that; you’re confusing the issue.

Sure enough, he went to church at a quarter after 6.  Then he went back home... and tried it again at a quarter after 7, which worked considerably better, as the doors were unlocked by then.

After church that night, a friend gave me a quilt to quilt for her.  She had two more for me to do, too, as soon as she could get the backing and batting ready. 

Have you noticed how, ever since I said I need to quit doing customer work and finish my own projects, the quilts have been raining down?  And Jennifer is one more of those persons I would not say no to.  After all, she’s an aunt to son-in-law Jeremy and daughter-in-law Maria.  The quilts are for some of her little granddaughters, and several of her grandchildren are my great-great-nieces and great-great-nephews, and a couple are our cousins, twice removed.  I used to give Jennifer piano lessons when she was a little girl.  She’s been the preschool teacher for a number of our grandchildren.  Both sets of her grandparents were best of friends to my parents, and her parents are Larry’s and my good friends.  So you see I can’t tell her ‘no’! 

Besides, I do enjoy the quilting.

Larry got home from work about the same time I got home from church.  After a late supper, I went back upstairs to my quilting studio.  A little before 12:30 a.m., I rolled the quilt forward, and there was the bottom border peeping out.  I guessed that in another hour, I would be done.

It took three hours.  By then, I was too tired to trim the quilt and remove it from the frame; I would do it the next day, and take pictures, too.

Thursday morning, I awoke to rain.  But WeatherBug was promising a few moments of sunlight in the early afternoon, so I hurriedly took a bath, washed my hair, dried and curled it, ate breakfast, and then trotted upstairs to trim the quilt.

While I was trimming it, the rain stopped, and the sun shined on the deck long enough that by the time I finished taking the quilt from the frame, the deck was dry.  I swept it, spread out the quilt, took pictures, and managed to get that quilt and the leftover fabric back into the box in which Joyce had sent it by using my small Eureka vacuum on it.  Understand, the batting had arrived by separate shipment – so there was a whole lot more bulk to cram in there.



Larry gave me that little vacuum for my birthday one year.  They (whoever ‘they’ are) say husbands are never supposed to give their wives ‘working’ gifts; but I am practical and somewhat frugal (depending on how many pennies are in my pocket at any given moment), and I much prefer a gift I can actually use, as opposed to doodads and gew-gaws.  I like my little yellow Eureka Maxima.  (Especially since recently discovering that it works marvelously as a quilt compressor. 😉)



When I got home from the post office, I started working on the baby quilt.  It was in lavender and white, with pretty little girls machine embroidered on the white squares and cotton eyelet lace around the embroidered squares.



My phone rang.  It was Loren, calling to ask if there was a church service that night. 

“No,” I said, “we had church last night.”

He laughed, “I know it!” and then added, “Yes, okay, I see it’s Thursday, so bye!” and he hung up in a hurry, probably so I wouldn’t tell him something else he already knew.  It’s really aggravating when people keep telling you stuff you already know.  😏

A couple of hours later, at a quarter after seven, Loren called again.  This time he was worried because he wasn’t feeling quite right, and didn’t think he should be alone.  I asked a number of questions.  He wasn’t exactly sick, he didn’t have a headache, and he didn’t have any symptoms of stroke, as near as I could tell.

“Just a little woozy, maybe,” he explained.  “But people have been telling me I’m not acting normal,” he said, “and I really don’t feel normal.”

I realized this was probably the result of the kerfuffle two days earlier combined with his turning down supper earlier that evening, saying he was clear full and had already had plenty of food to eat, and yes, it was a ‘balanced diet!’ – or so he said.  The ‘woozy’ feeling is typical for someone with Lewy Body Dementia.  He’s actually kept his balance a lot longer than some with the disease do, no doubt because he’s healthy and has always been well-coordinated.

“I’ll make some calls and see if I can find some help for you,” I promised. 

I called Robert, our nephew and pastor.  He quickly gathered up some sliced ham and some homemade pumpkin pie with homemade whipped cream on it and headed to Loren’s house.

Loren soon felt better after eating some of the food, and I’m sure just visiting with Robert for half an hour or so helped, too.  Loren decided he would be okay, and would try to get some rest.  Robert promised to call at 7:30 the next morning and see how he was, and Loren liked that idea. 

It’s often frightening to older folks to be all by themselves when they know something is wrong, whether it’s sickness, or mental confusion.  Makes me feel so sorry for him.  That is, when he’s not accusing me of being the Wicked Witch of the West, I feel sorry for him.  😏

The rest of the night was quiet, except for the sound of my Avanté whirring along over a quilt.



By 1:30 a.m., the Lavender Embroidery & Lace quilt was done.  I put a little dab of Elmer’s glue stick under each lace scallop so the hopping foot (yep, that’s what it’s called) wouldn’t get caught in it.  It’ll launder out after a wash or two.  The pantograph is called ‘Curly Hearts’.  The quilt measures 42” x 42”.



As promised, Robert called Loren early the next morning.  He emailed me, “He sounds good this morning.  He said that he was feeling much better.”

But a couple of hours later, thinking it was Sunday morning and time for Sunday School, he went to church at 9:30 a.m., only to find school in session.  He’d probably gotten Robert’s phone call mixed up with Larry’s regular Sunday morning phone calls.

That afternoon, I took him some food and returned his laundry.  I gave him a picture of himself when he was three months old, and another at age 14 looking out of a window at Prairie Bible Institute, Three Hills (northeast of Calgary), Alberta, Canada.  He knew immediately who it was, how old he was in both pictures, and where he’d been in the PBI photo.  Those photos have been on his table propped up where he can see them, ever since I gave them to him.



Leaving his house, I went to the bank, the post office, and then to Jennifer’s house to take her the lavender quilt.  She had the other two quilts ready for me.

When I got home, I started on quilt #2, a white one with pink machine embroidery, using a pantograph called ‘Judy’s Roses’.  By 11:30 p.m., it was done.  The quilt measures 36” x 46”.  





Below is a shot of the back of the quilt.



Saturday, I made meatloaf for Loren using deer burger and our mother’s recipe, adding Ritz crackers and eggs.  Loren really likes it.  The rest of the menu consisted of Normandy blend vegetables, tapioca pudding, dark cherry yogurt, peaches, and fresh-made lemon/limeade, which he almost poured on his meatloaf for some obscure reason. 

I quickly said, “No, that’s your juice, to drink!” and he stopped abruptly and laughed.

He was finally back to his usual cheery self.  He did ask me if I’d ever seen those two pictures before (the ones I’d just taken him).  When I said, “Yep!  I brought them to you yesterday,” he laughed again, which is his usual reaction. 

I stopped at my blind friend Linda’s house afterwards to look at her recalcitrant computer and see if I might be able to beat or scare it into subjection.

I could not.

No matter what I did, it consistently refused to run Windows.  The computer is an old one, running Windows 7.  Or at least it used to run Windows 7.  Not no mo’, no mo’, no mo’.  I ran ‘Repair Windows’... went into the BIOS settings and looked around for anything that might possibly be in my language (as opposed to Greek), changed a couple of things, restarted the machine several times... but it refused to run Windows.  It wouldn’t even start in Safe Mode.  I saw a list in BIOS that included “Corrupt File”, but I hadn’t brought my crowbar to pry it out of there.

“I’m sorry,” I told Linda, “but you’ll have to find someone smarter than me to help you!”

I bid her adieu, went home, and returned to the quilting.  At least I know how to do that.



That evening, Nebraska beat Northwestern 56-7.  I listened to three minutes of the game before the half, and then forgot to listen again and only learned the score hours later when it occurred to me that the game was long over.

The quilt I was working on, an Anne of Green Gables panel quilt, was a custom job, and I ran out of steam to finish it that night.




I happened to look out the window a little after 7:00 p.m., and discovered a pretty sunset – a little surprise after a gray, misty day.



Larry had gone very early Friday morning to New Mexico to pick up a skid loader.  He’d sold one, and could have sold three more.  He drove his ’89 Chevy dually with the Cummins motor, pulling a flatbed.  The loader weighed more than advertised (they always do), so he stayed off the Interstates and tried not to hit any holes, for fear of blowing out the new tires on his trailer or bending an axle.  He was glad he’d bought ten-ply tires.

He called from Dodge City, Kansas, at 7:40 p.m. Saturday, and thought he had 4 or 5 hours of driving before he’d get home; but I looked it up, and it was more like 6 hours – and that was without any stops. 

In southern Nebraska, he ran into fog.  Furthermore, something (the air filter?) was bumping the back of a low-beam light and causing an electrical short, so that when the dims were on, all the lights, dash lights included, would suddenly flicker off.  That always adds a little too much spice to a pitch-black night!  😬

He tried driving with the brights on, but not only was it nearly impossible to see with brights on in the fog, oncoming vehicles were also extremely unhappy with him.  He’d switch to dims... and just about the time he met those vehicles, all his lights would go off.

Tired, he stopped at York, 55 miles to our south, to take a short nap – and slept an hour and a half.  He got home at 5:30 a.m. Sunday morning.  Deciding he’d better not attempt going to church, he slept all morning and part of the afternoon too. 

The lady in Phoenix wrote that afternoon via our Cyber Quilters group, “Imagine my surprise when I checked to see where the package (containing the quilt) was, to find it had been delivered yesterday and was on my porch.  It was supposed to arrive tomorrow.

“At first I was horrified that it had been neglected all night long, but I went out there and sure enough there was the box sitting on the chair right by my front door.   The box had been scrunched a bit, but still intact.   

“Sarah Lynn deserves some kind of kudo medal for getting all of that in the box.  Her vacuum must be a real super-duper, ’cause it was wall-to-wall fabric and no vacant air space at all.  In fact, I had to pry it out of the box. 😊

I replied, “Oh!  Larry told me to tell you to don baseball catcher face mask, chest, and arm protection before opening the box!”

“Tell Larry that none of that was necessary,” answered Joyce.  “It had cemented itself within the walls of the box, got comfy, and had to be persuaded to leave.”

“Joyce,” wrote another lady, “that sounds more like a cat than a quilt!” 

That made me laugh right out loud.

Joyce wasn’t done yet.  She wrote, “I can honestly say that I have never played tug of war with a quilt before.  What we all missed is seeing a video of Sarah Lynn getting it into the box.  Now for someone who takes copious amounts of pictures, why she missed that event is beyond me.  I fear we shall never walk this path again, and we blew a really good laugh.

“I was sincere when I said I had to really pull it out of the box.”

I added in another two-cents-worth:  “Dear me, Joyce, how in the world do you think I could take a picture of such an operation right whilst I was a-doin’ it?!  What, do you think I’m an octopus?!!  😂🤣🐙

And then I wondered about the quilt, and wrote, “Joyce, was your quilt okay, despite being so squished?  Should I not do that again?”

She assured me that all was well.  “So very sorry I didn’t say that, but the quilt was just fine.  The box was not ripped through anywhere.  Just two corners had been squished.  In fact, had the box not been so full, it might have been damaged more.  If you can do that again, by all means do it.  No quilt was harmed in the squishing.”

Then she added, “I think it is now twice as big as it was when I first got it out of the box.”

It was only a couple of months ago that it occurred to me that I probably didn’t have to have those expensive vacuum bags to use the vacuum on a quilt in a bag.  I gave it a try – and sho’ ’nuff, that little vacuum can slup up and save a whole lotta space.  Since I’m not using ‘real’ vacuum bags, I have to really hurry and get the box taped shut before everything expands again.

I think it would not be wise to try this with a substandard box!  Imagine the news: 

 

 

Quilt Confetti Stumps Authorities in Conejos County, Colorado

Authorities admit to being totally amazed and puzzled when confetti, purportedly from a once-sewn-together quilt, came whirling out of the sky over Red Mountain, a 12,896-foot peak in the San Juan Range. 

“There really isn’t very much of it left,” stated Park Ranger Bill Canaday, “as droves of mountain pikas came scurrying out of the rocks to gather up as many patches as they could carry in their mouths before scampering back to their dens, where their nests are expected to be more colorful and cozy than usual this winter.”



 

Caleb, Maria, and Eva came visiting after church last night.  We gave them Eva’s belated birthday gifts – a little doll and a couple of soft knit dresses.  We had a snack of crackers and cheese and tapioca pudding, and I baked some M&M oatmeal cookies.  Caleb and Maria had already eaten supper, but Larry and I were hungry, so we had loaded baked potato soup.

This afternoon I took Loren some food – Black Angus hamburger, green beans, tapioca pudding, blueberry streusel muffins (fresh out of the oven), peaches, orange juice, and yogurt.

He was outside when I got there, telling the neighbor lady, who was mowing her lawn, that I would soon be arriving ‘with my little kids’, and he wondered if it would be okay if they stood near the property line and watched her mow.  She, knowing that he has Lewy Body dementia, assured him that that would be just fine, and she would take care not to run over any of them.

My ‘littlest kid’, Victoria, is 24.  She has two ‘little kids’ of her own, with another on the way.  Loren seemed disappointed when I arrived alone.  So... since he was obviously thinking of my children when they were very young, I told him a few stories about them, such as Lydia, age 3, trying to imitate her elder siblings in skipping rocks across Flathead Lake in Montana.  “I... (drawing back to throw a chunky, non-skippable rock) skipped it!!” (said with enthusiasm while the rock was still in the air, soon to land [and sink] with a sploosh-thud.)

Loren laughed over that story.  “The children made your traveling fun!” he said, and I agreed, they certainly did.

I’m glad Loren is okay again, for now, and I’m back to telling him stories of cats and kids and quilts. 

I baked some bread later, and had a big scrumptious slice (the heel, my favorite part) loaded with butter and honey.  Mmmm, mmm.  The only drawback is that when you take a bite, your bottom teeth press against the crust, your top teeth sink into the soft bread – and the whole piece flips up and ker-smacks you in the schnoz, liberally coating it with butter.

Now to get back to my friend’s Anne of Green Gables quilt, which is about halfway done.  There are two quilts coming from Glen Allen, Virginia (northern suburb of Richmond).  Once again, these are quilts I promised to do months ago; therefore I must do them, despite announcing ‘no more quilts until my own projects are done’.  Another lady has 8, and again, I promised to do them; but I don’t know when she’s sending them.

(Maybe this is why some businesses have perpetual ‘going-out-of-business’ sales? – the business really perks up once people think it’s soon going kaput!)

Time to refill my coffee mug!  And the coffee?  Why, it’s Cinnamon Brownie Pecan.  The beans are from Christopher Bean Coffee Company – and their motto is, “We never roast the beans until you place your order.”  This is one of my favorite flavors.



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




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