Here’s a taxidermy mount of a mountain lion we saw in the Nebraska Game and Parks building
at the Nebraska State Fair.
Whoever the taxidermist was did an excellent job. Every once in a while, these mountain lions
(aka puma, panther, wildcat, catamount, painter, or cougar) make their way from
the west right over into our neck of the woods, usually following the Loup
River where it cuts through gullies and arroyos. Most of the time, it’s a lone, young lion
looking for a mate and new territory; but one year it was a male and a female
traveling together. They have ranges up
to 115 sq miles (300 sq km) and may roam up to 50 miles (80 km) in a single
day.
Some friends of ours were bike-riding early one morning
on a road about a mile south of our house, and spotted a mountain lion in a
wooded area along the Loup River – and that big cat was loping easily along
through the trees, keeping pace with them! Let me tell you, their hair stood up on end. Mountain lions can run 40-50 mph (65-80 kph)! Most of the good bicyclers we know travel
15-25 mph (24-40 kph) when they’re pedaling hard (and depending on the hills).
Last
Monday evening, Victoria sent a recipe, writing, “Would you eat fisherman’s
pie?”
Fisherman’s Pie
For the potato:
4 russet potatoes
4 Tbsp salted butter
3 egg yolks
Salt & White Pepper to taste
For the filling:
2 small leeks
1 shallot
1/2 a fennel bulb
8 brown mushrooms
5 oz salmon
10 oz white fish (I used cod and snapper)
2 Tbsp AP flour
2 Tbsp butter
1 Tbsp @algaecookingclub
1 Tbsp chopped dill
1 Tbsp chopped parsley
1.5 cups whole milk
0.5 cups heavy cream
Salt & Pepper to taste
She
accompanied the text with pictures of the stew, then the topping.
It wasn’t long before she was sending pictures of
their meal, all cooked – and on a picnic table at a nearby park.
“It is
delicious,” she announced.
“We used
to pack up our supper and head for one of the town’s parks fairly often,” I
told her. “Fun times. Do you remember doing that? We didn’t do it anymore after we moved out
here.”
She
surprised me by answering, “I do! I
remember it pretty well.”
Victoria
was 6 when we moved from town into the country.
Had we tried carting food from our house to a park, it would’ve been
cold by the time we got there. However,
we did eat at a table on our back deck every now and then.
I
quilted most of the day Tuesday. Supper that evening was California blend vegetables
(cauliflower, broccoli, and carrots), Mozzarella cheese and Pretzel Flip crackers,
peach Oui yogurt, Martinelli apple juice (not from concentrate, and unfiltered –
it tastes like I’ve just run fresh apples through my juicer), and cottage
cheese.
A cousin asked, “Don’t you ever eat anything that isn’t healthy?”
That gave me pause, because I was feeling a little bit guilty over the
handful of Pretzel Flip crackers! Then I
decided, Okay, that’s healthy enough, and responded, “Rarely. 😃 I don’t feel so
good when I do.”
We have very few snacks around the house. Candy, practically never. Larry has a tendency toward high blood
pressure, and if he keeps his weight under 200 lbs., he doesn’t have to take
medicine for it. I like to be able to go
up and down all the steps in this house without my knees, hips, and ankles
hurting; so I try hard to maintain my weight. But I like food, so I well understand how easy
it is to gain weight.
There have been Monarch butterflies on the Autumn Joy sedum every day
lately. Seeing a pretty one out there
sipping nectar, circling, then alighting to sip nectar again, I grabbed my
camera and hurried outside. I had to
wait a while, but the butterfly finally opened his wings.
And then I somehow managed to accidentally get a picture of him flying! That doesn’t happen often. At least, not in focus!
Here’s a
bumblebee on the Autumn Joy sedum, just taking off. His feet aren’t quite touching the petals.
That day,
Larry went to Sublette, Kansas, to get a pickup he bought on Purple Wave Auction. At 9:30 p.m., he informed me, “It will be
around 2-3 a.m. before I get home.”
I only
got 45 minutes of sleep that night, partly because I was acquiring a cold, and
partly because I was worried about Larry.
He did not get home when he said he would; but this is nothing new. If he ever did get home when he said
he was going to, I would be utterly gobsmacked.
(Been looking for an opportunity to say that for weeks.)
Hoping
he had stopped to sleep, I waited until 7:20 a.m. Wednesday morning to text him
and ask, “Where are you?”
As usual, in giving me an explanation, he forgot to actually answer the
question. “I had to replace the starter,”
he replied. “It wasn’t as easy as the
guy on the video said, and I had to take a nap. I should be home around 11 a.m.”
He got home around 1:00 p.m. He
showered, and headed off to work.
Wednesday
afternoon, I rolled the Nine Kittens quilt forward, and there was the last row
of kittens. This always gives me a
renewed burst of enthusiasm, when the final stretches of a time-consuming quilt
are finally in view.
We had
no evening church service that night, as there was visitation at the church for
our oldest church member, who passed away Monday. He was 98. Just listen to this: Percy had 9 children, 45 grandchildren, 125
great-grands, and 35 great-great-grands. One of those grandchildren is our son-in-law
Andrew, and two of those great-grandchildren are our grandchildren Keira and
Oliver. The funeral would be Thursday afternoon.
Percy
was still driving his pickup to church just 3 or 4 months ago. He was one of my own father’s dearest friends.
King Solomon wrote in the Proverbs, “Thine
own friend, and thy father’s friend, forsake not.”
One time
when I was a teenager, Larry’s sister Rhonda and I were in Montgomery Wards. At the front of the store was one of those
big, coin-operated, aluminum riding horses.
Rhonda
and I were wandering amongst the ladies’ clothes and hats (wide-brimmed,
flower-bedecked Easter hats, side by side with straw cowboy hats) when I
spotted Percy coming in the door.
I was
shy, but I immediately greeted him, “Hi!” Then, unable to resist, because Percy was a
staid individual with a hidden-but-delightful sense of humor, I offered, “I’ll
donate the dime if you’ll ride the horse!”
Percy
grinned at me. “I’ll ride it once,
if you’ll ride it twice.”
Well, me
had me pride, and there were people in the store. It was just a joke, in any case. We all laughed, and Rhonda and I went back to
admiring (and trying on) the Easter hats.
When it got close to the time I thought Larry would be getting off work,
I texted him, asking if he could bring home some of that Lipton tea for colds,
and also some liquid Tylenol for colds.
(I cannot swallow capsules or caplets.)
He called from the Hy-Vee Pharmacy a little
later to say that he couldn’t find the Lipton stuff, only TheraFlu. And their liquid Tylenol was only for
children; but there was liquid Nyquil.
“That’s it,” I said, “TheraFlu. And liquid Nyquil is what I need, too. But not cherry-flavored.”
TheraFlu always helps me feel better quickly, when I
have a bad cold. But I thought it had
Lipton tea flavors? I looked it up, and
see I’m not suffering from dementia just yet:
Yes, Theraflu
used to have Lipton flavors, but they are no longer part of the product line. Theraflu now offers Tea Infusion Flavors,
including green tea and honey lemon, and green tea and citrus.
Guess what Larry brought home? He brought Theraflu caplets, which I cannot
swallow.
Evidently the boxes were near each other, and after
talking to me on the phone, he picked up – the wrong box.
The liquid Nyquil he bought has elderberry syrup in
it, and isn’t quite as terrible-tasting as some. I despise the “great-tasting” cherry flavor –
it’s like pouring rancid, perfumed hand soap into your mouth. It’s a wonder a person doesn’t bubble. I took a dose, and hoped it would help. I had every symptom listed on the side of the
bottle.
It did help.
And the elderberry flavor is quite a bit better than the other
flavors. Or at least that’s my
opinion. Maybe you love “great-tasting”
rancid cherry perfumed hand soap!
Maybe because of the Nyquil, or maybe because I hadn’t
slept much at all the previous night, or maybe because Larry was home, I
slept... and slept... and slept that night.
I still didn’t feel so great the next day,
though, so I didn’t go to the funeral.
A couple of days earlier, I’d realized there
were only enough coffee beans in the cupboard for maybe two more pots of
coffee, and my order from Christopher Bean was still three or four days away. Amazon to the rescue! I ordered a four-pound bag of Cameron’s
Vanilla Hazelnut coffee beans, and they arrived in two days. Whew. I
was saved.
Cameron’s have good beans; but Christopher
Bean is better. Christopher Bean never
roasts their beans until your order arrives, and the freshness is noticeable,
even though they are located in Volusia County, Florida, and thus an order
takes a few days to get here. They have
hundreds of flavors, and I have tried them all, and am now working my way
through the list for the second time.
Note: I do not like chipotle-flavored coffee. Why on earth would I have ever thought I might
want smoke-dried ripe jalapeño chili peppers in my coffee?!!! I knew better. Therefore, I
have no justifiable complaint. And yet, I complain!!!
I took a couple of Tylenol tablets (which, fortunately, are
small enough that I can swallow them all right, so long as I do it with a bite
of bread or banana or something), collected
my steaming cup of Vanilla
Hazelnut coffee and headed upstairs to get on with the quilting.
Here’s a badger – another of the taxidermy
mounts in the Nebraska Game and Parks building at the State Fair.
A fellow quilter and friend, upon seeing this picture,
remarked in her droll way, “Friendly. Claws.” hee hee
The badger can dig like everything. For its size, it can be a ferocious little
beast!
Surprised to learn what it was, she said, “I thought
badgers were only in England. ‘Wind in
the Willows’ sort of thing. 😳 My ignorance.”
Our North American badger is similar in appearance to the
European badger, although they’re not closely related. The European badger is one of the largest; the
American badger, the hog badger, and the honey badger are generally a little
smaller and lighter. Stink badgers are
smaller still, and ferret-badgers are the smallest of all. They weigh around 9–11 kg (20–24 lbs.), while
some Eurasian badgers weigh around 18 kg (40 lbs.). Some say there are 8 different kinds of
badgers; some say 12; some say 15 or more. I guess it depends on how they group them, and
what they call ‘species’ or ‘subspecies’.
Below are pictures and names of 19 varieties of the badger.
Speaking of friendly little fellows with lots of sharp teeth, a bat came swooping
into my quilting studio a little after 9:00 that evening. I dashed downstairs and grabbed the tennis
racket, but by the time I got back upstairs, he was nowhere to be seen. I looked all over the three rooms that are up
there, but couldn’t find him. I put the
racket in a handy spot and continued quilting.
Someone out in the Nebraska Panhandle just died from a suspected case of
rabies. No details have been given yet. They are giving all who came in contact with
the victim treatment for rabies. They
haven’t mentioned how the person may have acquired the disease.
The next day was Friday the 13th. I had an aunt who was superstitious. She thought one would have bad luck if one
went out a different door of a house than the door one had come in. When they came to visit, my parents would let
them stay in their 31’ Airstream camper, which Daddy kept in a big garage
behind the church and parsonage. It was
a fairly quick walk from the back door of the house to the big garage – but my
aunt would go back out the front door of the house and walk allll the way
around the house and the church to get to the camper. She absolutely refused to go out the
back door to get to the camper, never mind the weather!
I quit quilting at a quarter ’til eleven, came downstairs, and retired
happily to my recliner to edit some pictures.
A bat
came flapping through, diving devilishly at my head as he passed by, giggling
all the way. Aaaiiiiyiiiiiyiiiiieeee.
It took
a few seconds to get the electric footrest on the recliner down far enough that
I could get up, and in that time, the bat made a circuit, complete with the
obligatory head-dive and fiendish snickering.
Finally I was able to leap up and grab the tennis racket.
Was this
the same bat as the one upstairs? Or could
it be another bat, since I never heard it whack into the stairs door and
skitter down to a step; nor did I see it crawl out from underneath that door,
as I sometimes have. The bat (or bats,
as it were) flew by too quickly for me to read his (or her) little nametag.
I hunted
for the bat, racket in hand, but did not find it. Eventually I gave up and reseated myself in
the recliner, but I did not put the footrest up so high, and I kept that racket
right close at hand.
A
quilting friend, upon seeing my latest quilting photos, asked, “Do you quilt the larger motifs in the background first
and then fill in around it? Or do you
just start quilting and then think to yourself that a larger motif needs to go
here?”
“Oh... sometimes one way, sometimes another!” I told her. “I mostly just
work my way through these blocks from one side to another, trying to backtrack
as little as possible to avoid thread build-up. When there’s an open area ahead, I throw in a
bigger motif, then fill in around it. Unexpected
things happen, right and left! 😅 Sometimes when
I’m done, I stand back and look at it and think, Okay, let’s not do that
odd little thing again. And
sometimes I think, Oooo, that’s pretty! Let’s try to replicate it!”
Questions of the Quiltist:
As I
work away in my quilting studio, various thoughts, ideas, memories, and scenarios
travel through my brain, at varying speeds and depths. But there is one
brewing question that continually resurfaces:
Why
does a solitary droplet of coffee land on the right lens of my eyeglasses after
every sip I take?
Friday
morning, Larry’s alarm went off before
5:30 a.m., over an hour earlier than usual.
It went off three times, to be precise, as he kept pushing ‘Snooze’. This, because he was going to Oklahoma that
day to pick up a skid loader he’d bought.
I quilted most of the day. At
10:00 p.m., I looked at the clock... looked at the quilt... and kept
quilting. By 11:00 p. m., I was alllmost
done. Just five more 5 ¼” squares, and I’d be done quilting the
Nine Kittens quilt. I think I can...
I think I can... I think I can...
Block #5 took ten minutes.
Four more to go...
Block #4 took nine minutes. Three
more to go...
Block #3 took eight minutes. Two
more to go...
Block #2 only took six minutes.
One more to go!
The last block only took 5 ½ minutes.
Too bad I couldn’t’ve done them all that fast! 😅
I trimmed
the quilt from the frame and took some pictures. Now to sew on the binding and make the label!
 |
| Backing |
The bat(s)
didn’t make an appearance, thankfully. I
have seen nary a one since Thursday night.
Every time I walk into my quilting studio and see that
quilt hanging over the bars of the quilting frame, I think, Wow. Apparently I decided I’d had quite enough of
all that ‘light custom’ stuff!
This Monarch butterfly and that honeybee (just beyond the
camera’s focus) were having a bit of a clash, despite the fact that there is
plenty of nectar to go around. Of
course, butterflies can’t bite or sting, but this Monarch didn’t seem to have
gotten the memo, as he was aggressively crowding the bee and trying to take the
territory for his own. My
pretty flowers and nectar, I tell you; it’s mine!
Does he not know that bees have nasty little venom-filled
barbs called ‘stingers’ on them?!
Butterflies should be taught this well before Kindergarten!
Here’s a sunflower, planted by the birds.
Below is a Dipladenia.
At 2:00
a.m., Larry texted, “I am just leaving Leavenworth, Kansas. It is 5 hours to home.”
I’m not
sure what time he got back, but whenever it was, he didn’t stop at home, but
instead went straight to work hauling forms.
He came home sometime in the middle of the afternoon when I was in Omaha
visiting Loren.
As I got
ready to go, I informed some friends, “This time, I will walk on that
floating walk bridge at Standing Bear Lake!” >>...pause...<< “Unless there’s a waterspout. I won’t walk on it if there’s a waterspout.”
As I
was showing Loren pictures of various family members and friends on Instagram,
we came upon some photos our great-niece Jodie had posted of her children – and
the last two showed some of them with their great-grandfather Percy.
Loren
didn’t even hesitate. He said in quite a
pleased tone, “There’s Percy!” It’s been
almost three years since he’s seen him.
I
did not tell him Percy has passed away; there is no reason to do that. He would be sad, even though he’d forget why
in mere minutes. But he’d still be sad.
Loren
is
always glad if I show him a special Bible verse or mention a favorite Bible
story. It has become very clear in these
last 2 ½ years of visits to Prairie Meadows that even those with severe dementia
are ever so much better off if they know the Lord. They are happier, more content, and more
willing to be helpful. Loren still
understands full well that there is a heaven to look forward to, where we’ll be
reunited with believing loved ones, and, best of all, our dear Savior. I am so very thankful for this; it would be
hard to see him unhappy there.
After leaving Prairie Meadows, I drove to Standing Bear Lake – and I found the floating walk bridge!
The bridge is
primarily made of ‘EZ Dock’ polyethylene, the same stuff that’s used for
floating docks. It has a slip-resistant
surface even when wet. It has two
sitting areas where fishing is allowed, a handicap-accessible canoe and kayak
launch area and solar lights for those using the lake during evening and early
morning hours.
And it’s
sorta noisy. It sounds like a couple of
plasticky rubber tires squeaking together as one walks. As I walked past a boy who was fishing, I
apologized, “I’m sorry; I’m scaring all the fish away!”
“No, you’re
fine!” he assured me.
Well, I knew
I was fine (just feel my cold, wet nose); but I also knew I was scaring the
fish away! 😆
A couple of female Mallards were out on the lake. I only managed to get two or three pictures
of them where they weren’t turned bottoms-up!
There must’ve been something right tasty there in the shallows where
they were swimming.
I crossed the lake, hiked a short distance on the paved walkway, and then
returned.
There were several classic car shows in towns around the area, and I met
a number of those old classics on the roads.
It was a
pretty drive. The corn is turning
gold... the sky was late-summer blue with big fluffy clouds... the trees are
still green, with some turning gold... and
black-eyed Susans and goldenrod are in bloom all over the countryside.
When I
got home, I fixed an easy supper – Marie Callender’s frozen Grilled Chicken
Alfredo Bake Bowl. It has pasta and
vegetables (broccoli, carrots, peppers), and a creamy four-cheese Alfredo
sauce. And grilled chicken, of course. It was very good.
The
Sweet Autumn clematis is in bloom. It
smells so good! My sister gave me a
sprig of it about 20 years ago. I
planted it on the east side of the house – and now there’s another bunch of it
growing on the west side, too. The birds
must’ve planted some seeds for me. It
sends vines up into the chokecherry trees on the east, and into an Austrian
pine on the west.
The
begonia from Caleb and Maria (left) is still blooming, as are the white hostas
(below), though the greater part of the hosta plant looks quite scraggly.
At 6:21 a.m. Sunday morning, I got this text from
Walmart: “Great news! Your Pennington Select Black Oil Sunflower
seeds have arrived.”
A check on tracking showed the two 40-lb. bags had
been delivered to our front porch.
I had
also gotten an email at 4:40 a.m. showing the order as ‘delivered’.
Except...
it’s not here. Nobody delivers
stuff at 4:40 a.m., especially not on a Sunday morning. They don’t even deliver at 6:21 a.m. – again,
especially not on a Sunday morning.
Did
somebody working overtime at the post office spot those big bags of sunflower
seeds and think, I need these, and just mark them as ‘delivered’?
A friend
was wondering if bug zappers really help, or if they just make a lot of noise. 😄
I figure
every time a bug zapper makes noise, that’s one less bug to bug me, and
a small, grilled chateaubriand sirloin for the birds. (Yes, I know birds like fresh bugs
better; but I’ve seen English sparrows under bug zappers, gobbling up
half-charred bugs. Or maybe they’re
gobbling up fresh bugs that are gobbling up charred bugs?)
There
were no bats in the house again last night. Soon they’ll be migrating, and we won’t have
to worry about them until next spring.
The mud
daubers love the Autumn Joy sedum, and so do the honeybees. If the honeybees sting you, they die. So they are conservative about who they sting.
Theoretically.
After
church last night, we stopped at Walmart after church to pick up a grocery
order. One of the items I ordered was
Caramel Apple Pie yogurt by Dannon. We’d
never had it before.
After a
late supper of pot roast/vegetable/potato stew, we had the yogurt for dessert. Mmmm, it was yummy.
This morning, I cleaned one bathroom, put a load of
clothes in the dryer and started the second load of clothes in the washer, and then
popped half a cinnamon-raisin bagel into the toaster. I loved toasted bagels.
I discovered – after making the monthly house payment a
few weeks ago – that RoundPoint mortgage company had transferred our house loan
to Rocket Mortgage, and I needed to set up a new account, and who knows what
has become of the payment, as the Dashboard is gone from RoundPoint (though it
does say we owe $0), and Rocket keeps informing me that my payment is
late. I did get a confirmation of
payment from RoundPoint.
I attempted to set up the new account, but none of my
information suits them, and after three tries, they locked me out and gave me a
phone number to call. I’ve called it
twice, wind up with a lengthy spiel on an automated answering system, press the
numbers that match up with my particular problem – and am then informed by the
chirpy girl-robot voice, “Sorry, we cannot help you with that. You’ll have to take care of this on our
website. Bye-bye, toodle-ooo!”
(Well, it’s possible she didn’t actually say
‘toodle-ooo’, but she might as well have.)
How do you box the ears of a chirpy girl-robot?
I did make the payment. We weren’t given more than a week’s notice of
this mortgage transfer – not in time to prevent me from making a payment at the
old mortgage company. The last time the
mortgage was transferred, the company automatically sent any payments made to the
old mortgage company on to the new one for a couple of months at least. That seems like the correct way to do
it.
Maybe half the country is having the same problem as
me, and they all called the same number at the same time?
Since there’s nothing I can do about it at the moment, I
shall fold clothes. Two more loads,
and I’ll be done.
Toodle-ooo!
,,,>^..^<,,, Sarah Lynn ,,,>^..^<,,,
