Sweat Things

I started a new blog thinking it would be easier for me to add photos.  Nope.  So Ill keep with this one.  It has been nearly 10 years in the making.  Another blogger who I really enjoy reading mentioned that she is counting down to fall.  I understand completely.  Last night I baked a cake and the sweat was just pouring off me.  I hate that.  I hate that more than freezing in the winter.  I hate it more than having to go outside at 3:00 am to throw wood in the wood stove.  But I guess if I didn't have the sweaty days of summer, I wouldn't enjoy fall and winter nearly as much.  And yes, I complain about winter but only about having to wear a winter jacket.  So its the jacket that bothers me NOT the weather.

I had a horrible dream last night.  As I've written about several times, I am trying very hard to embrace the notion of my soon to be empty nest.  In a month and 4 days, my youngest will go off to college.  He's my buddy, my toilet plunger, my start-the-wood stove-back-up guy, my go-to if the goats get out or the fence needs fixed.  That's just the stuff he does around the house.  He's just a fun kid to have around and I realize that it is going to be quite an adjustment for me - not only learning how to function without someone else to care for but how to occupy my time when I dont' need to rush home to fix dinner to take someone somewhere.  Just like when my oldest son left home, I'll get through it alright.  I'll miss him like hell but it is how life works.  I guess maybe I've been kind of successful as a parent.  My horrible dream was that i was at Walmart looking for sweatpants for my family and I realized that I didn't have family at home for whom to buy sweatpants. I remember looking at the 2T sizes and sobbing because I had no more babies at home. It doesn't sound like such a terrible dream but it left me with such a soul breaking sadness when I woke up.

Anyhow, back to sweating...........Mr. Weatherman says that the temperature is to get down to 55 degrees tonight. The dogs and I can't wait - for a bunch of little dogs who love to burrow under blankets, they are definitely not loving the heat.

So maybe I should get up and accomplish something today.  Like basting a quilt so that I can actually start handquilting it.

Kindness

Am I a ghost?  Over the past several months I've been thinking about my place in this world. I've questioned that many times over the years - what is my place, do I even deserve a place.  One thing about working at a large University is that one is constantly surrounded by so many people doing grandiose things for humanity. Everywhere I look, there is someone better, someone smarter, someone who reads more, someone who is more in tune with the struggles of the world. Then I look at myself and think 'wow, I've babied a duck who was hit by a car'.  Ugh.

I really do want to help......everyone!  I want to help people who are abused and unwanted and discriminated against. I want to help everyone who has been negatively affected by the political debacle. I want to do so much but really? Some days it is all I can do to get out of bed. Some days it is all I can do to leave my office and go home. But what I can do on my good days is to smile and be kind to everyone I meet regardless of who they are.  Maybe sharing some simple kindness is all that humanity needs - regardless of who they are.  I'm thinking that may be some orange-skinned, crazy-hair old man wouldn't be so hateful if a few people had been kinder to him when he was a boy.

I know how I feel when I try to be friendly and am ignored. I remind myself that I don't want to be someone who makes other people feel unworthy and invisible. A smile may not cure all the world's problems but it's a start.  And that duck? I think I've mattered to her. She's walking again. 

Scraps.

Scrap quilts are my favorite type of quilt. I love how something beautiful and useful can be made of bits and pieces of discarded items - things that have been tossed out because they are seemingly ugly, past their prime, no longer needed.  These old bits can be sewn together into a quilt that is new.  I wish the same could be said of people. I see hints of this everywhere I look and I am as guilty as anyone else in not appreciating what I had when I had it.

So if you took a whole bunch of old people with all of that life experience and put them together - would it make something beautiful? If they were all identical to each other, that could be a problem. But people - regardless of their age - are different. We may all have been impacted by the same historical events, have grown up in the same eras with similar family types, socioeconomic status but our reaction to those events are very, very different. And I guess when our reactions clash, it's much too easy to argue, ignore, hate, or hurt.  It's amazing to me what can spark such great hate: religion, money, power, generational differences.  Honestly? It makes my heart hurt.  If you try to help one cause, you are ignoring something else. So I guess I'll stick with my fabric scraps. The greens and purples play together quite nicely.  Blues and oranges? Ok!  And I can put together all these supposedly unrelated bits together and give them to someone else who can enjoy the whole.

Cookies

What you see here are two naughty dogs.  Why are they naughty? They sneaked cookies.  Saturday we were baking cookies - lots of cookies.  I don't have an excess of flat space in my kitchen so we put the trays of sugar cookies on the kitchen table to cool with a linen towel covering them.  When I walked into the kitchen after taking Casper outside, I heard the clicking of little doggy toenails across the kitchen floor.  During the day, the pups generally stay in the living room sleeping in various spots on the couch.  I didn't think anything of it - nothing looked out of place. I stepped out of the room again for just a moment and when I came back in, Tipper had just jumped off a kitchen chair. The kitchen chair that was directly under the tray of cookies.  I followed him and found Tucker with 3 or 4 sugar cookies under the piano bench.  Knowing they were busted, they left the cookies on the floor, jumped up on the couch, and went back to sleep as if nothing at all had happened.

End of beer.

I haven't had a drink since August 30th - not a sip of beer, not a nip of wine.  Did I hit rock bottom? No. Did I black out? No. Nothing happened to me.  However I found out that a friend of mine WAS involved in an accident over the summer. That friend had a couple of drinks and decided to drive.  This story isn't common knowledge. I found out about it by accident and then read about it in the paper.  I believe that this friend was just drinking so socially but then was called by a child to be picked up or taken somewhere or something like that.  And like any parent, my friend went when her child called.  Only she didn't make it to pick up her child. Instead, my friend was in a car accident and severely injured someone else.  I don't know what will happen to my friend, I don't know what happened to the person in the other call.  All I know is that there will be consequences - as there should be.
That could have been me.  That could have been anyone.  I love to drink beer, it helps dull my anxiety and my worries.  But I have kids.  I have grandkids. I have a mom.  If something would happen to one of my kids, I would go to them in an instant.  Regardless of whether I was sober or under the influence of a few beers.  I would go to them.  Any of them.
But what if I hurt or killed someone? What if I hurt or killed myself because of my drinking? Am I an alcoholic? I don't think so, I guess it depends on your definition.  I know that for a couple of weeks after I made that decision to not drink again, it was really hard to drive past the bottle shop and not pick up a six pack.  It was nearly agony over the Labor Day weekend to not have a beer and play the piano.  It's been easier over the past few months.  In fact, the only drink I've thought of is eggnog and then I remember my promise to myself and decide on a nice hot mug of tea.
It hasn't been easy - so much of our culture relates being social to hanging out and having a drink or two.  Except that I know that if I allow myself to have just 1 drink, that will be the end.  I am pretty sure that I'm seen as a bore at work - I like to be around my co-workers but they don't understand - nor would I tell them - that going to a wine-tasting or a local bar just can't be my thing anymore.
I feel so much better - my thoughts are clearer, my thoughts are clearer, I'm getting things done.

In other news, Dirt - the indoor turned outdoor turned indoor again cat - has moved into the bathroom and as a result, Sox the former bathroom cat, has moved onto the kitchen table.

Happy at the funny farm.

This year, I’m not buying a Christmas tree and I am not cutting one down from our woods.  We have a nice little fake cedar tree that I plan to set up in the living room and decorate. No one in the family really gets into decorating so I’m going to take advantage of decorating the way I like – white lights, red ribbons, some tinsel and other shiny stuff. I like to make it not-so-Christmasy because I like to keep it up throughout the dark days of winter.

I want to start baking too.  Cinnamon crescents are my favorite thing to bake (and eat).  They take some time to make but are so worth it. I’ll make the obligatory peanutbutter kiss cookies which disappear quicker than I can make them.  I’ll hide a few to send to my son out west.  I’ll make peanutbutter cookies – the kind I remember my mom making and are most excellent with a cup of good, hot tea, snickerdoodles which remind me of my little brother.  Finally, I’ll make sniksnax – enough to last throughout the season. 

I have just a few more things to finish making. Not everyone is receiving a tangible gift this year. Per a request, donations are being made to local animal shelters. This is in line with my belief that bitching and moaning helps no one but actually doing something for someone is the best.  Animals can’t speak for themselves – it’s up to people to help when they can.  So for that son out west, Pets Come First will be enjoying his Christmas gift. Except for his cookies. 

Speaking of animals not being able to  The cats don’t appreciate it and I’m sure it is frustrating for Casper. And I’m pretty sure that he is going to get clawed rightly by one of the rough and tough outdoor cats if he doesn’t knock it off.  I think he learned early on to leave Sox, the bathroom cat, alone.  Most definitely Sox could knock him flat if he wanted to.  And Casper is a pretty large boxer.

speak, I really wish Casper could speak. Because I would ask him why he insists on humping the cats – or at least trying to.

Fun stuff. This Christmas will be good. Not everyone is happy and that is ok. I’ve come to the rightful conclusion that I can’t make everyone happy and it certainly isn’t my job to do so.  I’m happy. My dogs are happy as are my goats, chickens, and pony. The cats are happy too. Even the outdoor cats – especially the outdoor cats. I’ve made a nice warm house for them, they have the shanty attached to the woodstove that is nice and toasty, they can cozy up to the goats. I think the ducks are pretty happy too.  They’ve plenty of food to eat and a nice warm home. I just wish they’d shut the heck up at night

Simple

I haven't been writing too often lately. This is sad because my intent for having a blog is to have something written to reflect on when I am old. I realize that the topics I choose to write about may be simple. I know that compared to others, I seem very one dimensional. I have poor grammar - I know this. I type too fast and skip words because if I don't type fast, my thoughts escape me.  And I very much want to be able to remember the good times in my life. When I am old. 

So I am simple, I write simple, I think simple (not really).  I write about what makes me happy. Sometimes I write about things that piss me off but more often, I write about happy stuff.  I love to sew - I love to see, touch, and work with fabric. I love quilts because they are old and soft and keep people warm.  I love my pets because they love me and they are sweet and innocent.  I love Christmas because......I just do. 

I read simple things. I like cozy mysteries, I like novels, I don't care for historical novels other than that set around civil war times.  I love music, of all kinds. I love to play the piano just because I do. I'm not great at it and am only good at the music I like.

I don't like being around people who expect answers or conversation from me. I like being an adviser and answering those questions and helping students. I don't like talking. I do, however, enjoy listening.

I don't like feeling as if I have to explain myself in order to justify the way I operate. Like me or don't like me. I don't care.

My thoughts for today. Perhaps I'll be a bit more sophisticated when I am old.

In the still of the night.

I like early mornings the best. Everything is so quiet, so calm. Students are sleeping, crazy dogs are sleeping, everything is at peace. Except the ducks.

The ducks do not sleep. They are never quiet. They lurk under the deck waiting for me to step outside and continue the neverending process of feeding the outdoor cats.

Not only do the ducks not sleep but they talk. A lot.  Any time of night I can hear them outside quacking. It's amazing how incredibly loud a gaggle of six ducks can be.

At 4:00 in the morning, it is a sweet time to enjoy a good book, a cup of tea. And sometimes, the cacophony of ducks wishing each other a good morning.

Things that live at my house

Over the years, there have been a lot of interesting things living at my house: llamas, ponies, horses, goats, ducks, chickens, possums, tame rabbits, cats, dogs, and humans.  I find it interesting that there are actually critters who don't belong here but simply choose to live here.  I swear we have cats from way down in the valley who come here to eat.  We have the duck who has been visiting every year and has now decided to stay.  We have the neighbor's turkey who struts in every once and a while with his harem of hens following along behind.  There are deer almost every morning and at dusk.  A blue heron that has made his home in our creek ever since I can remember and who we scare away every time we walk down to the creek because we never remember he's there.  We've had visitors we've enjoyed seeing and some that we haven't including a Fischer, some snakes, fox, and a bear.  Years ago you could hear the bugle of elk from the elk farm on the next road down.  Our neighbors across the creek have horses, Jacob sheep, and a one-eyed emu named Smokey (among other things).

We've a diverse neighborhood and most everybody lives in harmony.  In a community which includes critters such as fox and chickens, harmony is a good thing.

Sox, the bathroom cat.

This is Sox.  He is our orange tabby cat.  He is, I figure, approximately 104 years old.  Seriously - I can't even remember not having him.  He is a peculiar little cat.  First of all, he's not little - he's rather portly due to his appetite and his sloth-like level of activity.  

About six months ago, Sox decided to move downstairs.  He's spent the last few years living on the second floor with the kids.  Apparently he liked having a warm body to cuddle with that wasn't also attached to a dog.  But for whatever reason, Sox decided he wanted to hangout in the bathroom.  I don't mind having him there - he's safe from the dogs, I can easily see if he's a little low on his Kit & Kaboodle cat food (anything else makes him puke). I do have to admit that it's a bit disconcerting to make a midnight trip to the bathroom and have a large cat jump on my lap when I'm not expecting it.  

He likes to sit on the side of the tub.  He sleeps on the tub rim in between the shower curtain and the liner.  whenever anyone comes in to the bathroom, he jumps down, meows, and stares at his cat dish. It doesn't matter if both water and food are filled to the brim - you have to at least pretend you are filling them up or he won't leave you alone.  Our bathroom isn't that large and sometimes having to dance around the ginormous Sox if I'm in a hurry is a bit dangerous.  

Aside from having to step around Sox' girth from time to time, it isn't really too bad having a bathroom that does double duty as a cathouse. And for Sox, it is extremely convenient: he never has to worry about his cat food or water dipping below the half way mark.

Quilts.

My Alletaire quilt - a Bonnie Hunter mystery quilt from 2015 (not done)

I-Spy Halloween quilt (nearly done)

I can remember when I first started quilting, I had no money. None.  So I would look at quilts and try to figure out how to make the pattern.  I actually made quite a few things this way.  When I was divorced, my two oldest kids would visit their dad quite often and he always liked them to look nice.  He would buy them cute outfits but they had to keep them at his house.  I can remember one outfit that he bought our son – it was blue and black, a pair of shorts and a matching shirt.  I just loved it but I didn’t have the money to buy Ryan an outfit like that so I designed and made him one.  It wasn’t nearly as polished as the store bought one but it was just as cute.  I did that for a lot of things that I would see at the store – I was buy the fabric and make something similar at home.  Pajamas were my favorite.  I think all 5 of my kids as well as me, had a pair of cow-spot pajamas.  

Windows lap quilt (half done)

 

 

 

Quilting has changed so much.  When I first started quilting, I used mainly calicos and solids because that is all there was available. We didn’t have rotary cutters – I wouldn’t have been able to afford one if there were.  We used templates made from cereal boxes which sounds so quaint and depression-era, but really, the cardboard from cereal boxes was and still is the best cardboard for templates.  If one is so inclined to make them.  Traditional quilts were about the norm and there certainly was only a few quilt magazines – definitely not the plethora available today. 

So now I’m back at a point in my life where I don’t have much money and it is nice  that I have those penny-pitching skills that I developed years ago.  While I’m not nearly in dire straits as I was back then, I would like to save as much as possible in any way I can.  We still eat cereal so I have access to template material. But I’ve also a stockpile of rulers and a rotary cutter, so I’m good. If I am ever frustrated about trying to cut a certain design, I always fall back to cereal box template.

It's amazing how sewing has remained a constant in my life. The sound of the machine - whether it is my Bernina or my old treadle - is so calming to me.  Making useful things is also a way that I calm myself. These days I haven't sewn so many clothes mainly because, well, I don't know why.  I just prefer quilts, I guess. My mom's mission in life is to make sure that everyone is warm.  I guess I just take after her.