Pictures of Cats and Quilt

This is Lily, being mysterious.

This is Lily saying, "You talkin' to ME?"

And this is Jackson being good (and not jumping on Lily).  Lola is hiding.

So I decided to border a piece of fabric with silk.  The fabric is Asian, and I feel that it is a work of art in of itself.

The only problem with silk, as you may have noticed, is that it frays.  A lot.

Moving on, and constantly snipping the stray threads, here is the top that I will hand quilt.

And here it is a little closer.

So when people ask me how long a quilt takes ... let's put it this way, I only got in about 50 stitches while I was at the hospital.  And I have been a wimp about pulling it out here at Emily's.  Do I want black, white, or grey fur on it?  Anyway, the piecing of the top took about an hour.  Normally, I can sew about two feet per Law and Order!

Where Am I?

For me, getting up at 5 a.m. is surreal.  But the day that followed topped even that.  We knew that we had to be at St. Vincent's Hospital in Worcester for 5:30 a.m.  Emily would have her sub total thyroidectomy at 7:30 a.m.  All went well and we are now a goiter-free household.

When we saw Dr. Potter (no, not Harry), he explained that the mass was BIG.  He said BIG so many times that I  finally said, "How BIG? Did you weigh it??"  He said, "It was about 60 grams."  He didn't even flinch when I said, "What is that to normal people?"  (2 ounces)

Now I didn't mean that the way it came out.  I meant, normally, what does 60 grams mean?  Okay, it's true, I should have said, 'What does it mean to ignoramuses who cannot deal with grams?'

We (Jonathan, the BF, and Emily and I) are all relatively unscarred (Emily has not had time to make a scar) from the experience.  However, I have to admit to being a bit nonplussed when the perky young woman came in and asked for $100.  It was just that Emily was in a johnny, with an IV in her arm and feeling a bit vulnerable.  One would have thought that they could have asked for the money (aka filthy lucre) while she still had clothing on.  Like when we checked in, noticing the lasagna that had turned into a science experiment on the reception desk.  It was hidden by a sign relating to parking validation so we thought maybe the receptionist had forgotten her lunch.  When we pointed it out to her, she said she thought the night cleaning person had left it -- a couple of days ago -- and maybe it was time to dispose of it.  Ya think?

After Emily was wheeled into surgery, we had hours to wait. Did I mention that the day surgery suite is opposite the waterfall? Not something you hear about a hospital every day.  They have an indoor waterfall with real trees and faux flowers on a hill indoors.  The ceiling is three stories high and looks like a greenhouse ceiling with panes of glass about that big.  Somehow it's tinted (not noticeably) because it was still cool while we sat in the sun in sturdy chairs at tables.  Don't ask about the air conditioning bill, but it was masterfully done.  This courtyard was flanked by a pizza place, Dunkin Donuts, and a fresh food place.  Well, it WAS breakfast time (8 a.m. or so) so I got the Dunkin turkey sausage breakfast sandwich and coffee. It was yummy.  Good thing because lunch was around 3 p.m.

(I left out the delays and petty grievances associated with the last "nurse." She didn't seem to understand the question: Why did the intern say it was o.k. to take ibuprophren with the percoset with Tylenol when there was an anticlotting factor which might promote bleeding?  At that point, NSAID was dancing in my semi delirious mind ...)

Trying to please everyone is a bad idea -- especially when I have hit the crotchety zone.  I had brought a couple of avocados, however, in the past, Emily never ate them.  She said she and Jonathan had gotten into making green tuna fish.  (I make that all of the time in the fridge but it doesn't have anything to do with avocados.)  They add the avocado to their tuna salad so I proceeded to do that.  Jonathan informed me that I had added too much mayo.  I told him that there was another can of tuna and he could make it the way he likes it.  "And vinegar."  That was the proverbial straw on my back.  "Okay, Jonathan.  Let me shove a tube down your throat, we'll add the extra vinegar and we'll see how you feel."  It was only after he quietly said, 'There's vinegar in mayo,' that he shut up.  It's going to be a loooong week.

For dinner, I decided to make chicken soup since Emily had thawed some chicken.  Nope, Jonathan starts throwing frozen turkey broth and turkey pieces at me.  Okay, apparently I thaw well.  When I remarked that I should have skimmed the broth, he said he had already done that.  That may be so, but the soup was greasy in my opinion.  At the point where we needed to add vegetables, I was on the phone so I just pointed to the cole slaw mix.  Hey! It's already chopped and it's carrots and cabbage.  He scowled. I raised my eyebrow.  He put the slaw in with other frozen veggies.

Trying to be ... what? Jonathan tells Emily, "I should make some of my special sauce for Mom." Knowing full well that his main seasoning is salt, I asked, "Do you add salt to your marinara sauce?"  He smartly answered, "My answer is predicated on what you will say."  I told him that I already knew that he added salt and tomatoes have plenty of sodium to begin with so maybe he should save the sauce for someone who appreciates it.

Remember: Emily had to be intubated and they told her they were using a larger tube than usual to protect her vocal chords. Can you say sore throat? Can you say NO ACIDIC foods?  If you read about my assaulting someone, it will be in the Worcester Telegram ...

So the cats are cute.  For about five minutes.  It's just so precious that when I'm sitting on the couch, eating, Lily butts me in the head with her head. I wonder if an all black cat in a pot would be noticeable? I could call it licorice chicken. And the yowling cat fights with her 'brother' Jackson are to die for.  If they keep that up, someone is going to die.  Lola hid all day.

So that's day one.  Anyone betting on whether I make it past Monday?

The Colonel's Quilt Top

Thank you, Moose! (He magically enabled me to post this.)  Apparently, this was many years ago -- I haven't had long hair in forever!  I did give it to the Col. on Veterans' Day one year.

New England Woolcraft Fair

All right, so it was raining and 47 degrees -- did that deter Ann and me from driving for 50 minutes to Cummington, Mass.?  Noooo ... actually, we decided to be wild and crazy and stopped at a flower sale at the Congo church in Haydenville first.  (The giant impatiens is shivering on the front porch now in 47 degree rain.)

Not that it was cold, but we could see our breath.  We only watched about 4 sheep dog herding trials before we headed to the sheep barns (shearing had been done, trimming was going on) and barns full of wool and other fibers for sale.  And ... in the interest of honest reporting -- these are file photos! But the vendors and views are exactly the same! There is something to be said for tradition, especially when you forget your camera!

It's hard to see (above) but that's a shepherd with a dog.  The sheep are off to the right.  Today, a dog went nuts and rocketed over to the sheep who were going to the pen to rest.  (They alternate batches of 3 sheep at a time.) The dog ran into the sheep pen.  You should have heard the gate guard bellow!  She was so commanding that I lay down!

We ended up under the contestants' tent because it blocked the wind.  I asked a woman (who turned out to be not only a shepherd but one of the judges) how they train sheep dogs.  She said first you pick a puppy with good instincts and if they do what you want with the sheep, their reward is more time with the sheep (play).  If they do something wrong, they get, "That'l do," and theynthey can't play with the sheep any more.  She said it's unlike obedience, when the dog gets a treat whenever they do it right.

I really like the above hooked "penny" rugs.  This year, she had a black cat sitting on a stool.  She also sells the materials to begin rug hooking. It looks easy.  Yeah, right. Not.

Above, Ann provides a size perspective for these felted figures.  She ended up buying some fish and dolphins for oceanography with her older grandson.  He's 2 but obviously, above average ...

There was a lot of grooming going on today.  I had quite a conversation with a black sheep (he was gorgeous).  He was not happy to be constrained for so long.  I tell you, those sheep sure are talkative. I could hardly get a bleat in edgewise.

This is a bunny (angora) and none was outside today.  Brrrrrr ... they were all huddled inside the craft barn.  And I didn't see any alone -- they snuggled in one big ball to keep warm.

This is just a sample of some of the colors.  You should have seen the skein after skein of yarns! The colors were gorgeous!

I have to admit, this booth was not there. They would have had a bunch of wet wool.  However, these people (I believe) were in one of the craft barns.  It was raining too hard to risk this type of open air booth.

I did not buy any of these baaaath soaps (made from sheep something), but I did buy some lotion (unscented of course) made from shea butter.  It sinks into your skin unlike other dry skin lotions, so it won't leave stuff on your quilt (or knitting) that you are working on.  The woman who made it is from Lunenburg, Mass. near Leominster where I lived as a kid.

I don't know if she had comments about her mermaid, but this one was not there this year.  It was a much more modest (clothed) mermaid today.  Ho hum.  How droll.

The angora bears were there -- only many more were much smaller than this one.  The about 5 inch tall ones were $25.


And that's about it.  I have to say that there was a LOT of hand dyed yarn, but there was even more un-carded, and un-spun, and raw wool for sale.  Personally, I don't want to start from scratch.  In fact, I don't even knit or crochet.  But I love the sheep and the colors and talking with the vendors!

Quilts from My Past

So I was rambling through the disk from my old computer and I saw some of my quilt pictures.  I do not have these quilts any more, so here are my memories.

This one is The Tie Quilt. It was a commission from a friend whose husband does not need to wear a tie to work.  He had a wonderful tie collection and this would be a way to enjoy the artwork on the ties rather than have them sitting in a closet.

I used black batting because I had noticed in a quilt with a burgundy top, the white batting would sometimes show through and it looked like fuzz all over. I think Timna Tarr quilted this.  Whoever did it, she had a bear of a time going over the appliqued ties (bumpy).

The back of the Tie Quilt has part of his tee shirt collection.  They are pretty special too.

Here is the more of the back in progress.

Here's a small shot of The Free Spirit of Massachusetts.  It is part of the Pentagon 9/11 Quilt Collection.  A year ago, with the help of local politicians, it was donated to the Women in Military History Museum which is at the gates of Arlington National Cemetery.  Most visitors to the Cemetery do not know the Museum is there.  It is privately operated and is desperate need of funds.  Its mission is to honor and identify female WW II veterans (and others).  They need a fundraiser!!

The Purple Quilt is now belongs to my sister, Sherylann.  She LOVES purple and as soon as I got it back from Jeanne Harlow who machine quilted it for me, I gave it to Sherylann.  She was hinting around that she wanted one in purple and I had to give her an estimate of the costs to discourage her commissioning one so I could get this one to her!

Another commission and labor of love was for a new little boy who lives in LaGrange, Illinois.  It's The Aquarium, which the proud grandparents dubbed The Shedd (the Chicago Aquarium). It's rows of mini aquaria, so the picture is in pieces.  Jeanne Harlow did the machine quilting.

This is a Maplefish.  (I totally made up the fish and the name.)

And here's my friend, Petey ...

(He's a hand made applique.)


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Colonel Vinskey is long gone to Heaven.  His granddaughter took his quilt.  On the back, there is a drawing that I did of a B50 bomber which he flew in the Air Force.  There's also some blueberry fabric to commemorate his wonderful cultivated blueberry bushes in his backyard.  I added an Ohio star, because one of  his sons lives in Ohio. There is also some bee fabric on the back -- he had bee hives in the backyard too. I still the miss the Colonel's voice booming, "Good morning!!" when I would walk the dog before work.

It is not meant to be ... the only image I have is pasted into a Word document and I can't convert it to a graphic.  The top is a series of squares with burgundy, tan, greens in plaids (he often wore plaid shirts).  The quilt squares are separated by burgundy borders.
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Finally, here's a boot in progress.  I have finished the applique of this men's dress boot.  There is supposed to be another applique of a very feminine high heeled shoe on its side nuzzled to the boot.  There's a long story and a reason (besides sloth) that this wall hanging is unfinished.

That's it so far.  I have made many more quilts, but the pics must be in other dead computers ...

The older I get, the smarter my mother gets.  I know, I know, that's a paraphrase of Mark Twain and probably a hundred other famous people.  Yup, that's Mom up there (about 5 months ago).  I can't figure out how our relationship has gone from pure angst to ... we're, like, friends.  Oh, there's that mushy love stuff in there too.  But since we are both New Englanders, we keep that kind of stuff sub rosa.

Many people praise me for the way I raised my daughters.  Well, o.k. two people.  But look at the example I had ... what follows are true Mom Stories.

It was Christmas break of my freshman year at UMass, Amherst.  Mom and I were living in a garden apartment (read: basement) in Mattapan (read: Boston).  It was a small but very comfy two bedroom apartment.  I asked if I could have a party for my high school buddies.  She said sure and I asked her if she would be going to a long movie or something.  "No, I'll just close the door in my bedroom and you can tell them I'm out."  Well ... o.k.  She assured me that reading a book would be fine for her.

So we were having a great time eating (that was during the 15 minutes that I was slim), laughing, talking, and singing.  One guy had brought a guitar.  It impressed the girls. (There was no alcohol because I didn't drink at age 17!)   At about Midnight, the door bell rang.  "Oh, ...!!" I thought, "The neighbors are complaining about the noise."

I open the door and in walks Mom.  "Hi, I'm home!" she exclaims and goes to her room to take off her coat.  My guests left shortly after that.

"Mom! What did you do??"  Of course, when you eliminate all possibilities such as magic, a warp in the time-space continuum, fairy dust, etc., you have the answer.  Mom had climbed out of the ground level window and reentered the apartment.  Now you know when I got my second grey hair.

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Mom has always believed in rules.  I do too, I just sometimes had difficulty following them.  In high school, I was constantly being grounded.  I was home 10 minutes late from a date, I dated the same guy twice in a row, or I forgot to tell her I was over at Ginny's house for hours (and she didn't know where I was).  On one of the occasions when I was grounded for a month (!) and couldn't go out on 4 consecutive weekends, one particularly persistent guy would call every Friday night and ask if I could go out.  By the third week, I said, "David, you know I can't go out."  So he said, "What's your mother doing?"  He was kidding and we proceeded to talk for hours on the phone.  (What DID we have to say then??)

Another time, she had forbidden me from seeing this one guy.  Since I was also dating a football player, I told her I was going to the (high school) football game.  It was true.  What I didn't say was that I was going to sit next to the 'forbidden fruit' at the game.  I thought I was so clever.  I wore my brand new candy cane pink mohair sweater which stood out from the crowd.  All the better to see you, my dear.  Yup, Mom walked over to the game (the field was at the end of our street) and she saw me.  The chewing out I got when I got home was my first grey hair.

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We lived in Milton, Mass. when I was in high school and we were "poor" compared to most of my friends because we rented the top of a two family house.  We weren't really poor but compared to the kids who traveled to Europe or who played squash at their parents club, well, you get the idea.  Looking back, I know that Mom didn't want to make me feel different, so she had decided that I would always look good.  (And, since I was tall for my age in those days, all of the clothing was for "old ladies.")  She taught herself how to sew and she made a lot of my school clothes.  Was I grateful?  No .... not then, but I am now.  I had designer, hand-sewn-in zipper dresses!

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And she taught me how to travel.  In 1978, the Business and Professional Women's Club (BPW) had its national convention in Puerto Rico.  She would have BPW business meetings during the day and was free to party at night.  I had a great time going to the mostly empty casinos, taking a SCUBA lesson from a cute guy at the hotel, shopping, and walking around.  But when the meetings were done, it was nap time.  Then a little drinky poo from the flask, then off to dinner and the casinos.  Mom had made us a couple of easily packable long skirts that we could alternate with different blouses for our evening wear.

One afternoon I was practically the only patron in a casino so a dealer was chatting me up and telling me to never hit on an 18 and things like that  Then he said, "I've got to tell you: You and your sister are some of the best dressed people who come in here."  Yeah.  Everybody thought we were sisters.  If Mom really wanted to get me mad, she would say she was the younger sister ...

Palm Springs, California Art Museum

Many of you have seen these before, but I do love the pictures.  These were taken in Nov. 2012 (around Thanksgiving) and they are some of my faves from previous visits.

I think the above may be Chilhuly, but I'm not sure.

The above is actually a film. She is walking very slowly, spilling milk out of the bowl.  Eventually, her skirt is covered in milk.

Above: Judy Chicago's work (colored angles). She created "The Dinner Party" in the 80's,

 I believe.