What can I say! I am in God’s waiting room for spring beyond a few glimmers of sun, followed by rain showers. It’s not about me. He has a plan and patience may be what the world needs by weather patterns that keeps us wondering . . . when will it change. It will change when He decides. Suck it up people. Perhaps I have become complacent. I heard the forecast that included the word “snow” and I continued to tidy up the back entryway making sure I had my wool cap and mittens close by. This time of the year the 40 degrees makes my bones feel like it is -20 degrees . . . artificial joints tell the real story.
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Noreen
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Noreen
Today I had to do it. The “Noel” quilted wall hanging needed to be retired. I could no longer convince myself it stood for “Noreen’s Office of Elegant Living.” I chose a wall hanging that my grandmother Laura had started in the early 1960s and I finished it several winters ago. Pink butterflies work in the spring season.
As I dug through my stash of strings and yarn to use as a carrier after the wall hanging of the butterflies placket was strung onto a piece of decorative trim, much like a curtain rod . . . come on . . . you knew I would have such a stash, Esther Schafer came to mind.
She was a mother-in-law second to none. She was a great cook and the Hector public school cafeteria could attest to that. She was their head cook for decades. She hand embroidered anything that would lie flat. Esther could crochet in her sleep and she was patient when she taught me while I was pregnant with Carrie. It was not unusual that the postman made frequent deliveries to her home from “LeeWards,” the catalog craft company. Skeins of yarn are milled leaving a tail of yarn hanging out of one end. That was to be the starter for the projects that would ensue. It would be rare if you could use the entire skein without a huge mess of tangled yarn spilling out all at once.
Esther ordered a yarn winder. It clamped onto the edge of a table with a starter spindle and a hand crank. Once the spindle was started, one hand worked the crank and the other hand continued to feed the yarn out of the belly of the skein. With deft speed each skein would become this beautiful honeycomb looking creation of a flat bottomed cylindrical 4 oz. ball of yarn. How could I not think of Esther as I peered into my stash. Priceless.
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Noreen
Several days ago I was in the process of getting Mom’s 50lb. chicken feed sacks ready to do some stitching on. I washed them and then let them soak in some strong bleach water. After several hours of soaking, I finished off the load and then re-washed them in plain water to make sure the bleach was indeed gone. They brightened up considerably and were reminiscent of what I remembered from times past . . . an off-white appearance. After pulling them out of the clothes drier, I couldn’t help but notice how immediately soft they felt and fairly clear of wrinkles. Smoothing them out with my hand as I folded them was all it took to get them stitching ready. This was in sharp contrast to the “feed sack towels” I had bought at Mill’s Fleet and Farm in Mankato. They were manufactured in a southern mill to represent and imitate the originals. When I washed them, they came out with wrinkles that needed to be ironed with steam before I could stitch on them.
Much can be imitated and soon there will not be that link available of what the original actually was. Times are changing and I know I need to stay instep to keep current of what is available while still looking for quality. I don’t want to be sold a bill of goods because I didn’t seek and search and then be disappointed on the outcome of resources and time. In today’s world, I can’t be a slacker.
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Noreen
As I took my usual full glass of water upon rising, there on the Crab Apple tree branch just inches from the kitchen window a huge red breasted robin, perched on a snow covered branch, seemed to be looking right back at me. Hump. We both seemed to agree we would tough it out until spring weather would be upon us.
Dennis and I seem to have a peace that has fallen on our little home. We toughed out months of Dennis having one small stroke after another and he is now recovering with the hope of many hours enjoying his mowing of our acre. My challenge, though quite trite, I made it through the winter without once falling as I took control of the driveway the best I could . . . with Randy and his John Deere rescuing me twice as deep wet snow was more than I could push.
I made it through the dark winter months without putting on any winter weight. I am starting spring while enjoying the weight loss of lass summer and fall. My feet do remember my walking route, though not quite yet to the distance I managed right after the Thanksgiving of 2017. I am still a work in progress. Dennis is also a work in progress. We have a good attitude this spring. After all . . . it is the attitude in life that serves us well rather than the altitude that we fly at.
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Noreen
This Must be the Last
This 10 inches of wet “heart attack” snow will most surely be the last of the winter blasts. Granted, the scene this morning as it was still snowing was spectacular. Everything was covered in a blanket of pure white. Dennis had made one path to the garage when he got up at six. By the time I got up at eight, Dennis was in his recliner for a nap and the path was totally covered over. When I took the snow pusher it was like there was a magnet not allowing the pusher to be picked up and emptied. Believe me the path and right around the back door was all I could manage. I grabbed a second cup of coffee and sat in the west porch of our home and watched various neighbors working to unearth their cars. About that time the city
plows came by and rolled the snow like the best of cinnamon rolls ever and plugged up all the driveways. Dennis’ grandson, Ryan appeared out of nowhere with a bob cat. Here we are at supper time and our concrete driveway if bare and dry. I can’t say much for the additional snow that has been pushed into our backyard. This too shall pass. Most of our neighbors have gravel and at the least bit their snow blowers were gouging muck. Whatever plans we may have had for the weekend have changed. These two older ones do not need to be out on the highways with this much slush. Even slush blows whispers across the highways when the winds pick up as they are predicted. There will always be another time to get out and about. -
Noreen
I dug deep and found the treasure I was looking for. About thirty years ago, Mom gave me a batch of the original 50 lb. feed sacks that Dad had gotten at the feed mill in Hutchinson. The sacks had held chicken concentrates that Dad mixed with ground shell corn. Mom had some of them hemmed and all of them had been bleached enough to take the insignia off of the front. They will indeed become white dish towels when these sacks will again be washed and bleached. I have no idea what stitching they will be smartened up with. Mom saved all the sacks and did dozens of them in hand embroidery to use as shower gifts for various family members. Perhaps her hands hurt her as well when she whiled away the evening hours. There was always a project going for Mom . . . I think it’s in the genes. I am proud to have Mom and Dad’s genes of stamina and logic. It makes me very special.
Today Dennis got to choose what we are having for supper. In a few minutes I will be going up to one of the three Casey’s that we have here in St. James and pick up a half Taco and half Supreme pizza. It sounded like a plan. So far at supper time we have not had any weather hit. I wouldn’t mind if it all dried out before it hit the ground. It was a raw wind when I walked this afternoon. It’s a good thing the mittens and wool hat have not been put away yet.
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Noreen
This morning Dennis carried a box to the end of the driveway for the Epileptic Society drive. I followed behind in my pink bathrobe with a plastic bag. Heck, I was already out and about, I took advantage of the firm frozen ground and headed out to the east lot line to see how the winter had treated it. I have a lot of branches to pick up. Me in my pink bathrobe walking our yard would not astonish anyone living on Stauffer Avenue. It’s just that type of neighborhood. I wasn’t alone. Following right behind me, step for step was Snuggles and Honey Bunny. Even in times past when there wasn’t a cat in site, I wouldn’t have to look. I knew they had sprung out of nowhere and were following. Very good garden buddies. We looked, we sniffed, we touched and then headed back to the patio porch. Though the top ground was frozen enough to walk on, it swished with each step telling me that there was no shortage of moisture. I thought the cats might stay outside as the morning was quite mild, but no, we all ended back in the patio porch where Dennis was enjoying coffee. I stayed for a bit and then decided I had better get dressed for the day.
We had always had a small USA flag right outside the west house porch. The seamed side had a placket that was then stripped over a steel electric fence post. We always knew which way the wind was blowing. The harsh winter winds shredded it. This afternoon a brand new flag adorns that corner of the front sidewalk. As I was walking back into the house I noticed the Fairfax Tulips are already four inches tall in the flower bed right beneath the west porch windows. That piqued my interest enough that I checked out the east side of the house. Yup, several more Fairfax Tulips as well as the Fern Peony. It made me wonder how tall my cousin’s plant will be this spring. I shared a Fern Peony with her when there was a very small tuber that had a lot of promise. She has sent me a photo each spring to share its growth. Priceless. I also mean that literally: the nurseries don’t bat an eye putting a price tag of $40.00 for the same sized little tuber I gave her and what it could sprout. My original plant came from Great Grandma and Great Grandpa’s farm in Penn Township. That is priceless.
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Noreen
As gray days go, it’s not all bad. I had several things to try out with the embroidery unit. It’s one thing to have designs to stitch out, it’s trial and error as to what stabilizer needs to be used with different types of fabric. A few trial samples to keep for myself and nothing goes to waste.
I won’t be doing any quilt piecing for awhile. No one is wanting nor waiting for a quilt so I will continue with embroidery and an occasional mending. My aunt Lorraine in Arizona has sold her long arm and it will be picked up from her home the day after Easter. As per our telephone conversation last night she needs to get two quilts long armed each day to take care of the stash of unfinished quilts. Have I mentioned her love of quilts? When her son Mark spent time with her last year at Thanksgiving he helped her organize her stash of finished quilts. It was over 300 and he organized them by size and color in various totes. Since that time she has been piecing to beat the band and now needs to make use of that long arm before she will be looking at doing them as I do . . . under the needle one stitch at a time.
Dennis said I could sew, quilt and embroider to my hearts content a long as I find homes for the items for others to enjoy and use. I thought it was a very fair outlook and I totally agreed with Dennis. Smart old cowboy.
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Noreen
Seriously . . . all I wanted to do was vacuum the patio porch. How the heck did Dennis get the old Tabitha cat accustomed to being vacuumed. What a racket of noise. I finally gave in and sure enough she would stretch out from side to side. Good grief. I did find two ping pong balls that needed to rescued from patio door tracks. As soon as I pitched them across the room, Harriet was right there ready for a soccer match. Snuggles overslept and was trapped up in the rafters above Dennis’ pickup. Dennis had pulled out with a tub of rugs earlier. If Snuggles had slept through the garage door opening and the start of the pickup, I didn’t feel sorry for her. I could feel her beady little eyes watching every move I made trying to make me feel sorry for her. Not! Honey Bunny does not like the vacuum cleaner and when I cracked a patio door she beat feet east and I watched as she went into the vacant garage in the next lot.
When Dennis came back we needed to give a few rugs several minutes in our home dryer and they were ready to go into service in the patio porch. The rugs do save on the carpeting that we put down two years ago. Helping Dennis, was me telling him that as much as I enjoy using the sewing studio when it is tidy, he and his livestock deserved the same.
Today Complete Basements of Mankato came for the 15 month check on the sump pump. The 100% warranty of having a dry basement is contingent on a check up every 15 months. Without the tile the seepage would come into the basement on all four sides. Nothing that would work for the usage that I now have. David called me over to look over his shoulder as he took the cover off. With his flashlight I could see what he was seeing. There was some oil slick on top of the water. The 2008 motor of the sump pump was beginning to leak oil. Dennis knew immediately that it was not a good thing. With a new motor on the sump pump installed we are assured that the sewing studio will continue to be in good stead.
So, here we are. Content on Stauffer Avenue as two fat sassy cats. Dennis is feeling well and feels physically stronger each day. The kitchen represents the biggest job of spring cleaning and that is done. Dennis has a fresh and tidy porch that now compliments his new Samsung television. As I am in the sewing studio and I hear the water as it trickles along the tile that runs along the perimeter into the sump pump, I am content to know all is well. Life doesn’t get any better than this.
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Noreen
Turn around is fair play. Dennis’ help was very much appreciated with the deep cleaning of the kitchen. Tomorrow Dennis has plans to head out to the local laundromat with the patio porch rugs. It’s been a long winter and we are going to tag team on spring cleaning the patio porch. While Dennis is gone, the shop vac and I will be going non stop. These last several days the cats have been wandering a bit farther outside when Dennis has left a patio door cracked, checking out where they can get to without walking in snow. If the weather forecast is correct they may decide to stay indoors one or two more days. One to three inches of snow doesn’t play out for the first day of spring but how long could it possibly last.
It feels great to have Dennis picking up speed after his surgery. I have been in his shoes in the past and the body needs to sluff off all the anesthesia that a serious surgery requires. The fact that he had to be awake to answer questions during the carotid surgery tells me the mix of drugs to take care of blood flow, pain of the surgery and still allow the brain and the mouth to work was quite the cocktail. It’s spring and we are going to enjoy it no matter what the weather is.
