There could be no amount of horrible north winds or threat of more snow that could possibly take away the warm fuzzy feelings I have had since Friday. Within a short span of the weekend all of my family has been here on Stauffer Avenue. Smiles, hugs, giggles . . . just about covers what will warm my heart until the next birthday. There was a bit more to today as Kevin and Kersten emptied the Stauffer Avenue job jar. Tweaking here, tightening there, adjusting fittings . . . makes for a safe feeling as the Fairfax team left our home. Dennis and Kersten gave a thumbs up on the new recipe I tried out on them for dessert. It’s all priceless!
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Noreen
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Noreen
Oh my gosh! It’s so cold outside with a raw wind that could most likely be causing the spring song birds to hide. It also happens to be my birthday today. That, however, does not give a pass to what needs to be addressed. I went out to check on the huge branch of the deep purple lilac that has been twisted to the point of almost detachment. When I turned to go back around to the driveway, I realized the huge collection of water around the sump pump as it egresses the house next to the house foundation. That was not suppose to be there. The underground line that the sump pump is attached to was frozen to the point that the water had no where to go but pump out onto the yard.
I snapped a photo of the sump pump area and sent it with a text to Complete Basements . . . “is this going to cause a problem that I can’t see at this time?” I soon got a return call. The proximity of the sump pump to the new basement window and the window well is less than two feet . . . “yes it could be a concern if the window well fills to the point that the basement window would allow water to run down into and down the interior basement wall.” Shucky darn! Dennis and I managed to hack a spot through the ice-covered yard area where the sump pump drain surfaces. Dennis went to Fleet and Farm for a bag of salt to be emptied on the surface of the drain. I decided my yard was not as important as my sewing studio. I did the ole farmer, Raymond Wendlant, solution. I begin digging a trench to take the water away from the foundation of the house and sump pump and allow it to run to the north. Thankfully there is a slight incline. I could have used a pickax but made good use of our ax to break through the ice layer until I hit soft dirt.
We have had a winter of having no snow cover – to having rain with extreme cold temperatures allowing a layer of ice that was then covered with 11 inches of heavy snow. The surface of the yard on the north side of the house is as hard as a rock. It is very easy to see how this freezing of the drain line has frozen. It is the first time in twelve years of having the sump pump installed. Monday I will be contacting Complete Basements with the question as to why there cannot be a rubber boot in place where the sump pump PVC pipe comes to the surface to allow for a temporary dis-connect to the under ground and allow for a secondary hose to be attached.
We are about to put together my “Happy Birthday supper.” As we are pooped, it may well be fried eggs and Spam with toast. It is still a wonderful day for my 74th birthday. Logic and stamina pull through to get through some tough challenges.
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Noreen
So it Begins
Today was the beginning of a wonderful weekend. Carrie came with Megan and Nicholas from the metro. Will those two kids ever stop growing! Megan and Nicholas were on Spring break and Carrie was in-between showing clients prospective homes. Nicholas and Grandpa Dennis had some serious conversations in the patio porch while Snuggles got some extra TLC from Nicholas. Megan shared with me a software program that allows her to do intricate drawings on her laptop that then can be printed out. Carrie and I caught up with each other and l may well have a plan for some embroidery projects. Just a fantastic day. There is more to come as Kevin and Kersten will be here on Sunday. The gray days and clouds don’t stand a chance of putting a damper on the weekend.
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Noreen
Hopefully a Problem Solved
I finally remembered to get some Lime-a-Way into the house. Kevin had used the last of what we had when he cleaned the exterior of the window going down into the basement stairwell. CLR and/or vinegar has also been known to work for loosening everything from water spots to buildup in faucets. At the time of the window cleaning, Lime-a-Way was the last product we tried that finally did the trick on the hard water spots. The job I wanted to get done today was not about
several attempts. If I managed to get in place what was needed to soak the shower head for a better spray, there would not be a do-over. I am not the best at reaching higher than my shoulders. It wasn’t the prettiest application, but I can tell you the entire shower head is submerged in Lime-a-Way by hook and by crook and by strapping tape. If the Lime-a-Way hasn’t eaten through the bag by tomorrow morning, I plan on holding a deep lightweight container under the bag, being as far away from the container as possible and then pricking it with a pin or some other such weapon. I have no intention of telling Dennis or anyone else how I got high enough off of the tub surface to get the project done and not reach up beyond my shoulders. Sometimes what happens within the home on Stauffer Avenue, must stay within the home on Stauffer Avenue. -
Noreen
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
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.
