Journal: First Snow

 

Last Tuesday, I looked out the window to see if any birds were at the feeders – and there was a sleek black cat on the railing, carefully and meticulously licking up the last of the suet from the suet feeder.  😄  I saw him out there again this afternoon.

It was overcast but still a nice day, 67° on its way to 71°.  

I took my Bernina Artista 730 sewing machine to the Nebraska Quilt Company in Fremont, because it has been skipping stitches ever since the teal-haired woman (the first time I saw her, she was a John Deere green-haired woman) serviced it.

The man who with his wife owns Nebraska Quilt Company looked at the machine and discovered the problem promptly:  the needle position had been messed up and not secured, so it could be moved about freely, without benefit of the button that is supposed to position it.  Somehow, I had not noticed this particular quallyfobble, but I sure had noticed the skipped stitches!  The man, whose name is Loren, assured me there will be no charge, and they would fix it and call me in a day or two.

Do you think being preoccupied with the color of one’s hair causes one to make mistakes with one’s customer’s machines?  😏🤔

It’s been a looong day or two since I left the machine there.  Maybe the problem was even worse than the man thought?  I’m sure glad I have a backup machine – the 180 Artista.  As it did before, it made funny noises when I started using it, even though I cleaned and oiled it before I began.  It was apparently complaining over being left to cool its heels for too long, because it sounds fine now.

Leaving Fremont, I continued on to Omaha to visit Loren.  It was a beautiful drive, with colorful trees and bushes everywhere.

Loren was in the TV lounge, and totally engrossed and preoccupied with Hogan’s Heroes.  He looked away from the screen just long enough to greet me with a happy, “I thought you’d want to come and watch this with me!”  😆

I handed him a couple of National Geographic magazines and the Messenger newspaper, pointed out a cute baby panda in the National Geographic (he glanced at it dutifully), wrote his name on magazines and newspaper, and tried to watch Hogan’s Heroes with him.  But we were smack dab in front of the TV, and it’s up fairly high on the wall, and looking up is one thing that blepharospasm makes quite difficult. 

So I pulled out my phone and looked at it, instead – and just then Victoria sent a picture of Carolyn and Violet coloring.  Carolyn was coloring one of the line drawings of cats I gave them – the same line drawings I used to make the silhouettes on their quilts. 

I gave them the drawings last Sunday and said, “These have something to do with your Christmas presents, but I’m not going to tell you what!”

They were of course giggling, all pleased and intrigued. 

I showed the picture to Loren; he’s always glad to see pictures of our grandchildren.

My eyes were pretty good that day, considering I have not been able to get the Botox treatment.  A cloudy sky always helps.  I got home about 7:00 p.m., fixed supper, and posted the pictures I’d taken that day.

A quilting friend commented, “I’ve noticed most of the foliage there is a golden yellow.  Very little red.  Is there a reason for this?  I’m on the east coast, and we have a mixture.”

“Yes,” I responded, “it’s because there is a lot less variety in the trees that grow here – especially in the middle and western part of the state – than along the eastern coast.”

Did you know that a large reason for the variety of trees along the Eastern Seaboard is because of seed-eating birds whose flyway is along the coast?  They eat seeds in one area... fly to another area... and deposit seeds.  🐦🦅

Another lady was unduly sorrowful over this photo, giving it a ‘crying’ emoji and writing, “One poor tree.”

“It looks pretty bedraggled, doesn’t it?” I agreed.

“Aren’t they taking care of this tree?” she pressed.

“It’s in a row of trees, brush, and tall prairie grasses (some of which can be seen to the right of the tree) at the edge of the field, next to a two-rut lane,” I told her.  “Farmers leave such patches of growth, called ‘Prairie Strips’ or ‘Rewilding Strips’, for birds, pollinators, and other grassland wildlife.  There are several nests in that tree.”

Hopefully, she has now dried her tears.

Thursday morning, I watered the houseplants, started washing Larry’s work clothes, paid some bills, cleaned a bathroom, and made a fresh pot of Pilgrim’s Pecan Torte coffee from Amana Coffees.  It has milk chocolate and honey-roasted pecan flavorings.  Mmmmm.  I’d better order a couple more bags of those coffee beans while I can! – it’s a seasonal flavor.

It was 58°, and overcast.  The weatherman was warning that the next day’s temperatures would only get to the mid 30s, and over the weekend we would very likely receive snow.  One of the radio announcers on the rural radio station hates snow, and he puts on this ‘I-can-hardly-say-the-word’ persona, pronouncing it as “sssss....noe!” until I want to smack a wide piece of gorilla tape over his mouth.

I cleaned the kitchen, then headed upstairs to my sewing room.

Here’s a fact:  stink bugs do not like being doused with Pink Lilac & Vanilla room spray.  I knew you’d want to know.

I spent most of the day sewing together a whole lot of leftover polyester batting pieces to make a big enough piece for the Cross-Stitched Teddies quilt.  While I was at it making Frankenbatting, I thought I might as well put together enough strips and pieces for the next quilt, too, this time using cotton.  I cut and squared up a bunch of pieces to sew together, then loaded the Cross-Stitched Teddies quilt on my quilting frame.

Having gotten the quilt loaded, I paused to look through the box of fabrics and sewing and quilting kits Teddy and Amy and their family gave me for my birthday three weeks ago.  To my surprise, I found a cute quilted Donna Sharp bag wrapped in tissue in the middle of the box!  I’ll betcha they’ve wondered how long it would take me to find it!

Furthermore, inside the purse was a cute Primitive Gatherings scissor-keepers kit.  I like Primitive Gatherings kits, with their pretty woolen pieces.

Friday morning, a little female downy woodpecker landed on the suet feeder, discovered it was empty, turned her cute little striped head, looked straight at the window where I was standing, and ‘chirp-chirp-chirpity-chirped’ at me.  So I obligingly got on a pair of sandals and trotted out to fill all the feeders.

Brrrrr!  It was sunny, but only 32° – too, too cold for sandals.

The nyjer seed feeder was still full from when I filled it over a week ago, and I’ve seen few house finches, and nearly no goldfinches at all.  This happens at this time of year, because those little seed- and insect-eating birds find treasure troves of seeds and insects everywhere they look.  That will change, soon.

That afternoon, I washed my rag rug.  This entailed getting Larry to haul it downstairs for me (that thing is big and bulky and heavy) and out onto the back deck when he came home for lunch. 

I then squirted Mrs. Meyer’s geranium-scented liquid dish soap on it.  I always get carried away with that stuff.  

Was it Stan Laurel who was in a laundromat, way back when, pondering over how much detergent to use? – “Reckon a whole box will do?”  He poured it in, started the washing machine.

Suds billowed.  They billowed from the machine.  They billowed onto the floor.  They billowed out the windows and out the door.

Directly, Stan Laurel (if it was him) was heard shouting, “Get the women and children out first!”

Anyway, I squirted liquid geraniums all over the rug, and then proceeded to pour gallon pitcher upon gallon pitcher of hot water on it.

And we had suds.

Did we ever have suds.

After a while, despairing of ever getting rid of all that geranium soap, I attempted to lift one side of the rug in order to let the water (and suds) drain off of it.  I used some kind of thick, heavy-duty polyester on the back of this rug, and liberally coated it with Fiber-Lok Non-Skid Backing, back when I made it several years ago.  This of course prevents water from simply running through it.

(I always coat things liberally:  pancakes with syrup, rugs with Fiber-Lok, skin with lotion, walls with paint, toasted bagels with butter, pie with whipped cream, ...)

Problem:  that big, bulky, heavy rug now weighed a good ten or twenty times more than it had previously weighed.  (I nevah, evah exaggerate.)

With a lot of struggle and effort, lifting one corner after another a little at a time, I finally got enough water poured off of it that I could drag it up and over the iron bench and railing, so it could dry.

Theoretically. 

It was only 37° out there that day.  It would get down to 26° that night, and we were expecting snow Saturday night and Sunday.  I wonder how many times the rug will freeze before it actually dries??

Yeah, yeah, I know I should’ve done this sooner, when it was still hot outside.  Blame it on Larry.  He kept forgetting to haul the rug downstairs for me.  It’s not my fault, I can’t help it, I’m not to blame, I refuse to take responsibility for it!  😆

It is now time to reorder dish soap, for some reason.

A lady on Facebook advised me that she sometimes washes her big, heavy rugs in the washing machine and dries them in the dryer.  She also recommended her second method:  hang it on the clothesline and use fish soap (later edited to dish soap – I did scratch my head over ‘fish soap’ 😆) and a scrub brush.

She underestimates the size of the thing.  Why, I could cut this rug into quadrants, and the individual quadrants would not fit in my washer or dryer, never mind the fact that they are large, commercial-sized machines!  And if I tried hanging it on a clothesline, even before getting it wet, it would not only bring down the line, but the posts, too, right along with it.

By nighttime, the rug was partially dry and partially frozen, all crackly and stiff.  Larry hauled it down to the basement for me, draped it over my Gorilla cart – and there it is still, with an oscillating heater/fan blowing on it.  Hopefully it’ll be dry by the next time I am ready to quilt again.  It really is much nicer quilting with that thick rag rug underfoot than quilting on a bare oak floor, especially in the wintertime.

That afternoon, I sewed the cotton batting together for the next quilt, which will be Elsie’s.  I then began quilting Malinda’s Cross-Stitched Teddies quilt, getting the top border done before quitting for the night.

Saturday, Larry came home from work earlier than usual and fixed French toast.  I finished showering and fixing my hair in time to have one fresh off the griddle.  We’ve been getting Nature’s Own thick-sliced multi-grain bread.  It’s scrumptious – and even more so, when made into French toast.  Mmmmm, mmmm.

The chrysanthemums Kurt and Victoria and family gave me for my birthday are blooming like anything.  One day this coming week when the weather is nice, I’ll plant them outside.

I spent several hours quilting Malinda’s Cross-Stitched Teddies quilt.  I’m trying to do simple quilting, a little bit vintage.  Is it simple?  Is it vintage?

At 7:00 p.m., I took a break to fix supper.  Larry was still working on vehicles in Genoa, but I was starving; so while the ground venison meatloaf was in the oven, I had an appetizer of lettuce salad.  That wasn’t enough, so I ate dessert, too:  watermelon.  When the meatloaf was done, I had a small piece. 

A meal doesn’t seem right, ending with meatloaf, so I had a few bites of cottage cheese and half a glass of orange juice.  And then I was full, and felt just right.

Back up the stairs I went to my quilting studio to quilt for a few more hours.  I will soon be ready to start on row 3.

A quilting friend remarked that she liked the skinny ‘frame’ around the Cross-Stitched Teddies.

“Thank you!” said I.  “That happened because I cut the first ‘frames’ too small.  😏🙄  I debated what to do (my debates with myself generally last about two minutes or less, heh), and decided on this.  Play it up, and pretend you are clever, that’s my motto!  😆

Sure enough, we woke up this morning to snow all over the ground.  It was 26° at 7:45 a.m., eventually getting up to a high of 35°.  I sipped a steaming cup of Vanilla Hazelnut Pecan coffee as I blow-dried and curled my hair in preparation for church.

It’s Kurt and Victoria’s 7^th anniversary tomorrow.  We gave them their gift tonight after church.  The traditional gift for the 7^th anniversary is copper, so I got them a set of four copper cups.

Bedtime!  I wonder how many rows of quilting I can get done tomorrow?

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