Journal: From Grand Island to Omaha

 

Last Monday evening, I got the following text from Levi:  “I’ve a horn lesson at 2 p.m. tomorrow, but at around 3 p.m. I can be up there to retune your plonker.”

“Plonker, haha,” I answered.  “Okay, that will be fine.”  Then I added, “My father, your great-grandpa, used to call it a piranha.  Or, sometimes, a banana.”

A few minutes later, Victoria tried sending me a video of Baby Arnold via share.icloud.

I attempted to view it, then wrote back to Victoria, “Okay, I had to recite the Gettysburg Address backwards, sing Yankee Doodle Dandle while standing on tiptoe, and whistle Who’s Afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf in order to make an account and sign in.  Once all that was done, I was informed of the following:  ‘iCloud Photos isn’t available for your Apple ID.’  I thought I’ve looked at pictures on this website before???”

She sent the video via email.  Baby Arnold, who would not be 7 months old until Thursday, August 15^th, was standing, with Victoria’s help, and putting one foot in front of the other, and he looked mighty pleased with himself over the feat, too.

Hannah then sent me some pictures from Platte River State Park near Ashland, Nebraska, where she and Levi had been that day.  “The only place it was raining in all of Nebraska,” she wrote.

“Of course!” I answered.

Here’s Levi with their Australian shepherds, Willow and Chimera.  In the background, in the little valley on the right, is Stone Creek Falls, an approximately three-foot-high waterfall.  The creek is not running very high at the moment.

“It’s not nearly as dramatic of a waterfall as I expected,” said Hannah.

“Maybe if it rained a lot, and you had a special lens, and laid down on the ground at just the right angle...” I suggested.

I looked it up and found some pretty pictures on the Nebraska Game & Parks website.

That night, I cooked the last of Teddy’s pork ham roasts.  It tastes good... but why do I not like the smell of cooking pork?

The downstairs freezer is now completely empty.  I need a Schwan’s man! ... No, I don’t.

I quit buying from them because the prices are so high.  Plus, the poor man who was delivering four big boxes one day in the middle of winter fell with his hand trolley and all the boxes into the ditch in front of our house.  He hadn’t realized the ditch was there, because it was full of soft snow.

I felt so sorry for him, but he said he was all right.

I decided to leave the bird feeders outside that night, on account of the mouse that kept raiding them when I brought them indoors.  I’m all in favor of keeping the wildlife wild – outdoors!  This time, I carefully dropped black-oil sunflower seeds into the peanut butter that was already in the mouse traps, then turned out the light and retired to the kitchen to see what would happen.

At 2:11 a.m., I heard a resounding ‘SNAP!’  At 2:40 a.m., there was another ‘SNAP!’  Big, fat, cornfed – uh, sunflower-seed-fed – mice they were.  The next night, we caught one more.  I wonder how many mice we have in this house?  We have caught none since, but I suspect there are others.  I shall keep the traps set.

Tuesday, August 13^th, was Teddy’s 41^st birthday.  We gave him two nice pocketknives, and Larry got wheel seals for the back axle on his pickup, and will put them on for him when he has a chance.  I texted Teddy a Happy Birthday note, telling him his father had a card and gift for him.  He thanked me, and said Larry had already given it to him.

An hour later, he texted me again.  The text had a pin with coordinates to this location: 

Now, I knew perfectly well that he had done so accidentally, doubtless clicking on my name by mistake since I had just sent him a Happy Birthday greeting.  The coordinates would be for one of his coworkers, of course (maybe even his father), giving them directions to a job where they were putting in poured walls.  I make sure to let my menfolk know when this happens (it’s not the first time), since they will need to resend those coordinates to whomever they were intended for in the first place.

Therefore, in my polite way, I wrote back to Teddy, “Do I need to take forms here, or sumpthin’?”

His answer:  “Oops”  😆

That afternoon, Levi came to work on my piano again.  A week ago when he was here, he hadn’t had time to finish the very highest register.  Also some of the keys he tuned had slipped, which is to be expected, since my piano had not been tuned in too long.  The new strings were particularly out of tune, as they have a lot of elasticity, and it takes a few tunings before they hold the tune.

Before Hannah and Levi arrived, I dusted the piano, washed the dishes, paid some bills, and vacuumed the rugs.

Levi finished tuning the piano just before supper time.  It sounds quite lovely now.  

Hannah and I visited while Levi worked on the piano.  I took apart a quilt Hannah’s late mother-in-law Bethany had been making for one of her grandsons before she passed away.  There were wildlife pictures on both sides, making it reversible.  She had the top, batting, and backing all pinned together, and she’d made a good start on tying the quilt with yarn.

Problem:  she had trimmed all the edges perfectly even.  I cannot load it on my quilting frame like that; the backing and batting must be a good six inches larger all around, in order for me to attach the leaders and clamps.  

I will buy some coordinating backing, make two quilts out of one, and give them to Hannah’s two younger boys, Nathanael and Levi, so the quilts will wind up being from both of their grandmothers.  The quilt tops have pictures of eagles, bears, elk, cougars, and horses, with mountain scenes in the background.  I’m sorry Bethany didn’t get to finish the things she was making for her grandchildren; but I’m glad I can do a few of these things.

A friend posted pictures that day of a whole lot of sweet corn she was freezing, with help from her daughter.  I told her how, when I was little, my parents and I had been invited to supper at the home of her husband’s aunt, uncle, and grandmother, Mrs. Armstrong.  One of the dishes was corn that Mrs. Armstrong had processed and frozen.  Mmmm, it was sooo good.  What made it taste so good, I wonder?  Whoever dished up the food on my plate gave me a small scoop of that corn, because I was a small girl ---- and no one ever knew how very badly I wanted the rest of what was in the serving bowl, because I was too shy to ask for it!

That evening, Bobby and Hannah were talking about their upcoming vendor event (for the Lilla Rose hair accessories Hannah sells), discussing where they would park the car, and such like.  They used the word ‘park’ a few times in the conversation.  Their dog Willow, sitting there listening to them talk, got up and went to the ‘Talk’ buttons, recorded in Hannah’s own voice, and pressed the button ‘park’.  Then she wagged and acted all happy that she entered into the conversation.  😅

Funny doggy.  She was ready and willing to go to the park!

That night, I finished the nine 21” blocks for the Nine Kittens quilt.

Hannah has been having a lot of pain in her joints and muscles, especially one of her hips.  Tuesday, a foot was causing so much pain, she had much trouble walking, even with a cane.  I loaned her the one I got when I sprained my ankle several years ago, to help her on the porch steps.  We need to install a railing on that porch!

Wednesday, Hannah sent me this picture of Carolyn trying out her cane.  😄

It seems that the medicine Hannah has been using for her asthma, Dupixent, is most likely causing the pain she has been experiencing.  Dupixent is taken as an injection every 2-4 weeks or so.  When she began noticing that if she let the treatment lapse, she didn’t have nearly so much pain, she started a deeper research of the drug’s side effects. 

And sure enough, she discovered the drug can indeed cause severe joint pain.

“So you have a choice,” I told her.  “You can either walk, or breathe.”

Sigghhh...  We worry about this dear daughter of ours.

I got the central section of the Nine Kittens quilt done just before time for church that evening.  At the moment, it measures 73.5” x 73.5”.   When the two borders are on, it will measure 86.5” x 86.5”.

After the service, we picked up Keira’s Puppies & Kittens in the Flowers quilt that I needed to take to Grand Island the next day to enter in the Nebraska State Fair.  Keira brought the quilt to the door.  It was in two plastic bags, and she was carrying it ever so carefully.

I’m so pleased that she loves her quilt so much.  I hope it gets... something at the fair, so I can give it to Keira.  I promised to give her whatever it gets, since she was so kind as to let me borrow it back. 

I warned her, though, “There are many beautiful quilts at the State Fair, and it might not get anything at all!”

Thursday, I took three quilts, three pillows, and a little fabric book to Grand Island.  It was a sunny day, not too hot, a nice day for a drive. 

But look at this strange cloud I drove under on the way!  Right about the time I got to Grand Island, it started sprinkling, and it continued until I got to the fairgrounds. 

Wouldn’t you know, I had not put the quilts into plastic bags (the weatherman said there was no rain in the forecast for Columbus or Grand Island, either one), and, though I parked as close to the Pinnacle Expo building as possible, I still had almost a block to walk. 

I hurried to open the hatch, get out the red canvas wagon, and load the quilts into it, then skedaddled across the boulevard to the front doors of the building.  A lady saw me coming and came to hold the door for me.  It isn’t easy to go through heavy, swinging doors whilst pulling a large wagon!

The quilts were okay; they didn’t get very wet at all.

After checking in the quilts, I had to drive to another part of the fairgrounds to enter the pillows and fabric book in the Textiles division.  By this time, the rain had stopped, and the sun was shining brightly.  There were towering thunderclouds to the northeast, but they kept moving in a northeasterly direction, and the sun kept shining where I was driving.

When I got home, I got a cute little Winnie-the-Pooh baby quilt ready to load on my frame.  A friend had made it for her new little granddaughter, and I was going to quilt it for her.

The backing wasn’t wide enough, but fortunately she’d given me plenty of that fabric; so I cut it in half, then sewed it back together in a size that would work.  I trimmed off all the selvages, as they are more tightly woven than the rest of the fabric, and can cause puckers.

Once the quilt was loaded on the frame, I hunted for a pantograph – and found the perfect one.  It’s called – what else – Winnie-the-Pooh, designed by Sierra Ford of Fordable Quilting.  It comes in two rows, offset; but I didn’t want that dense of quilting, so I enlarged it.  I would do one row at a time.

I taped the panto onto my quilting table.  When everything was ready for me to begin, I shut everything down and went to bed.  I would quilt it the next day.

Despite enlarging that pantograph, it still was a lot more intense than I expected it to be.  Those tiny bees!  The word ‘HUNNY’!  This panto is most often done by a computerized quilting machine on a much larger frame than mine.

But... I traced lightly over the pattern with a pencil to make sure I knew the correct path to take, and then launched in.

Getting to the end of the first row, I rolled the quilt forward – and then stood there and felt quite blank, because there was no offset row with which to line things up.  I thought, Oh, my word, I’ve forgotten how to use my quilting frame.  And then, Oh.  

Yep, I had to reposition the panto for each row.  

But it wasn’t all that hard, really, and the quilt was small.  So, in spite of the intensity of the pantograph and the repositioning, I had the little quilt done by 7:00 p.m.

The quilt measures 43” x 39.5”.  I used Quilter’s Dream wool in it.  In case you are thinking that the quilting competes unhappily with the Winnie-the-Pooh picture, here it is under direct overhead light.

The meat for our supper was done; I could smell it.  I’d fixed beef tenderloin, and liberally sprinkled it with a seasoning packet for pot roast.  😋  I cooked corn on the cob to go with the tenderloin, and made fruit smoothies for dessert.

Saturday morning, I got ready to go visit Loren.  I showered, curled my hair, filled and rehung the bird feeders, shined up one of the bathrooms, ate something, and gathered up all my paraphernalia.

On the way through Columbus (we live 7 miles west of town), I dropped off the Winnie-the-Pooh quilt at my friend’s house.

Sherri’s daughter and tiny new granddaughter were there, so I got to see new baby Willow.  She’s a little beauty.  I’d gotten only glimpses of her at church a few times, so I was glad to see her up close. 

It started raining as I left Sherri’s house.  I had NOAA weather radio on, and the robotic man’s voice was intoning, “It is mostly sunny in Columbus.”

They need to train Robot Man to go look out the window periodically, and then to properly apprehend what he ‘sees’.

By the time I got to Omaha, it had stopped raining.

I listened to Back to the Bible music all the way to Omaha and home again.  I love the dear old lively hymns from years gone by.

I found Loren in one of the wide front hallways near the nurses’ station where they often keep him these days, the better to make sure he doesn’t fall somewhere and go unnoticed.

I pulled a chair next to his and sat down.  Loren happily greeted me, then pointed out a tall man who I’ve seen several times walking up and down the halls, using a cane. 

“He keeps walking back and forth, back and forth, here in the basement,” he told me, “right while we’re having church service!” 

And no, he wasn’t talking about any ‘real’ church service they have there; he just thought it was a church service, since people were sitting in chairs, sorta lined up.  As for ‘basement’ – while there are no windows in the large commons area near the nurses’ station, there are big windows and French doors in all the hallways, most of which look out on the spacious, pretty courtyard.  There are also big windows in all the residents’ rooms.  Some open onto the courtyard, as does Loren’s; others have a view of the parking areas, with lawn, trees, bushes, and flowers all around.  He has at various times thought his ‘cabin’ was ‘upstairs’ or ‘downstairs’.

While we visited, Mrs. Flannel D. Nightgown (surely she has something else to wear??) (though I’m sure it’s warm and comfortable) was prancing up and down the hallways, too.  She happily greeted everyone she encountered, each and every time she encountered them.

She then went to the nurses’ station and hip-hopped her way along the tall desk, ka-thumpity-thump-thumping her palms on the countertop.

“She used to be a drummer in her high school band,” I informed Loren, and he laughed.

Mrs. Nightgown, getting no reaction from anyone there at the station, pirouetted, and went to sashaying this way and that, taking special notice of Loren and me (maybe because we were taking notice of her).

“She has some steps,” Loren remarked.

I laughed, and the lady then made spinning motions with her hands, jigging right there in front of us.

“She was also a baton twirler,” I added to Loren, making him laugh again. 

Flanny, enjoying her impromptu skit as much as we were, giggled and skippity-hopped along – then took note of a lady named Shirley sitting in the wheelchair she has had to use for the last few months.  Shirley, like most of the others who are in wheelchairs there, has no notion of how to turn the wheels with her hands, but uses her feet to propel the chair.  With a grim, intent expression, she was rolling back and forth, back and forth, in a space of about six feet.

Mrs. Nightgown stopped skipping.  She watched, hands on hips, as Shirley did a couple more forward-and-backward passes.

She then marched forth, stuck out a hand, and ordered, “Hold on.  Let’s go!”

Shirley, susceptible to such strongly worded commands, took Flanny’s hand, and then indeed they did go.  There was a small skirmish between a rear wheelchair wheel and a wall corner guard, and then they were free.

Off went Mrs. Nightgown pell-mell, Shirley in the wheelchair spinning along behind.

“Annnnd... they’re off!” I told Loren, making him laugh harder than ever, though, truth to tell, I was feeling somewhat alarmed over these events.

There are quite a lot of nurses, but the residents have the uncanny ability to pull these stunts when all nurses and staff are engaged elsewhere.

Down the hallway sped Flanny, nightgown aflap, with Shirley inadvertently speeding along behind her.  Mrs. Nightgown pulled a hairpin turn at the far end, and back they came, slacking not one iota in speed.

Having enjoyed her audience with us earlier, Mrs. Nightgown headed our way.  She would’ve dragged that wheelchair and hapless Shirley bumpity-bump right over Loren’s feet (though I was ready to stop it, had it gotten any closer), but a rear wheel got hung up on the armchair on the other side of Loren.  There was a small round table between the two armchairs.

Shirley, having evidently decided enough was enough, reached out with her free hand and got a grip on the arm of the chair.  She also managed to extract her other hand from Flanny’s hand.

Mrs. Nightgown turned around to take a good look and size up the situation.  “Oh, I see!” said she.  “You want to sit in that chair?”  She gestured at the empty armchair.

Shirley nodded.

Shirley nods whether she means ‘yes’ or ‘no’.

“All rrrrrighty, then!” sing-songed Mrs. Nightgown, holding out both hands.  “Grab ahold!”

Shirley started to reach up for Flanny’s hands.  Flanny tugged on her, but since Shirley cannot help with the standing-up effort, she was dead weight, and Flanny could not lift her.

“You have to try!” Mrs. Nightgown told Shirley sternly.

Shirley got a slightly more focused look, and set forth to try as instructed, starting to lean forward in her chair.

My hair stood up on end.  I flung down purse, tablet, and the magazines I’d been showing Loren, and leaped to my feet.  I would probably not be able to support her, should she stand up, for she is bigger than me; but at least I might be able to land under her and break her fall.

(Joke, haha.  You can laugh now.  I hoped to keep her in her chair.)

Shirley, who usually has a somewhat blank, somewhat severe expression that never changes, saw me do this, and her eyes widened.  And then she did something I haven’t seen her do for a long time:  she looked up at Flanny and actually shook her head ‘no’.

Mrs. Nightgown clapped hands to hips and stamped one foot.  “Well, make up your mind!!!” she exhorted.

Shirley now ignored the Little Engine that Could (aka Flanny D. Nightgown).  Unpleasant things cease to happen, once you cease paying them any mind, right?  Tugging simultaneously on the arm of Loren’s chair and the round table, she began rolling herself back and forth, back and forth, seemingly attempting to get on one side of the table, though there was absolutely no room for her there.

Mrs. Little E. Could threw her hands in the air and gave an exasperated huff.  “I give up!” she announced.

With that, she hippity-hopped off, Stage Right, giving us a cheery wave as she went.  She is evidently one of those souls who can compartmentalize her exasperation.  I breathed a sigh of relief that she was leaving Shirley to her own devices.  Everyone – including me – was safer that way.

Shirley ka-bopped her wheelchair into Loren’s chair, giving him a good jar.

“Don’t run over me!” Loren said with a smile, politely moving his feet. 

She glared at him and went on rocking her wheelchair fruitlessly back and forth.

I moved Loren’s walker that she kept bonking into, then distracted him with pictures on my tablet. 

It wasn’t long before Loren, apparently worn out from all the excitement, started falling asleep.  So I bid him adieu and headed out, dropping off his magazines and newspapers in his room before leaving.

It was bright and sunny when I walked outside, and I was glad, because I needed to fill the car with gas.  I got home shortly after 6:00 p.m.

Sunday afternoon, the squirrel that had been helping himself to the sunflower seeds in the bird feeders came scrabbling about in the bathroom windowsill that opens onto the back deck.  What, does he think it’s his own personal pagoda?!

When I went out on the back deck last night  to retrieve the bird feeders, I startled a young opossum who was up on the railing, chowing down at one of the feeders.  I stood still, and he started to run along the railing toward the steps.  This, however, would bring him closer to me, and that was a little too frightening.  He ran this way, then made an about-face and ran that way, then repeated the exercise, quite a lot like Shirley of Prairie Meadows the previous day.

Eventually, since I remained totally still, he gathered his courage and continued past me toward the stairs.  When he got behind the iron bench, he decided to shinny down a rail post to the deck.  After a few false starts, he made it, then kicked in the afterburner on a mad dash to the steps. 

He got there quicker than expected, tumbled onto the first step head over heels, regathered himself, and when down the ensuing steps in a little more cautious mien. 

Can you see the nyjer seeds all over his little pink nose?

This afternoon, Keith sent a video of a little ruby-throated hummingbird that landed on his truck (a cement mixer) after he had washed it and was ready to head back to the plant.  He watched the tiny bird getting a drink of water from some of the drips, and letting it run down its throat.

(Photo from the St. Louis Audubon Society)

Hummingbirds are such pretty little things.  When they’re flying, their hearts beat at about 1,200 bpm!  Their wings beat up to 80 times per second – or up to 4,800 wingbeats per minute.

Time to hit the hay!  I wonder how much of the Nine Kittens quilt I can get done tomorrow?

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