Meanwhile, the Weather Changes again

photo by Benjamin Brink/The Oregonian

We are used to very specific seasonal weather.  Portland has two seasons: FallWinterSpring and Summer.  FallWinterSpring is usually rainy and overcast and grey.  Summer is often 70s and sunny.  We get a week or so of weather in the teens or lower and a week or so when temperatures are in the three-digits.  But we average 65 degrees.  Once in a while we get that perfect day in May and people who visit here on that day like to believe it is our normal spring weather.  We don't usually tell them differently and they are surprised when they move here at all the grey and overcast and rain we actually have. 

But this year has been a little crazy.  We've had more sunshine, less rain.  As much as we love the sunshine (really shows off that green!), most of us are getting a little nervous for lack of rain.  Yes, I know it is silly but all year round when it happens after a few weeks of no rain, you will often hear, "Wow, we needed that!"  Some days it is sunny and then overcast then sunny then rainy and overcast and then overcast.  Today is one of those days.

Understand my pup hates the rain.  She is quite the diva about it, refusing to go outside if the sidewalks are wet.  We have to carry her off the porch and put her onto the grass quite a way from the house or else she just "holds it."  Pathetic.  It is a good thing she is cute.  So taking a walk means special gear.  Now Zoë loves to go for walks but hates to get wet.  So this is her maybepossiblymight rain gear.  Understand, she also hates this outfit but will tolerate it because she loves a walk.

After a walk I cooled my heels in the sewing room.  This is what I have up on my "design board."  Can't decide if I want a light one-inch border so it looks like it is floating or a dark one-inch border to frame it out.  I have a fun green polk-a-dot for the second border.  It will be a happy quilt.

Oh oh oh and check this out!!  I bought gas yesterday and this is what I paid!  I am on the road again!

Meanwhile, the weather changes again.  Whatever comes our way we will all enjoy it somehow--either complaining about it, enjoying it, predicting it, ignoring it.

peace~~~

Tattooed Tuesday

I do love tattoos :)  I love the stories they tell about the person who is wearing this art.  I love the way they change as our skin changes--soften somehow as we age because we soften just a little as we age.

When I was a senior in high school, I used to sit in front of the mirror every morning and draw a daisy on my cheek with eye liner and shadow.  It just seemed like the right thing to do.  I was a bit of a hippie and a daisy was a great symbol.  You can't really see it in this picture because it just looks like a pimple or something.  But trust me, it is a daisy.  I wanted to have that daisy etched permanently on my cheek.  I also wanted to be a stewardess, but that's another story.  I decided against the tattoo.  Well, actually the opportunity just never came up.

I recently told that story to my elder son and he said that it was probably the best decision I could have made, that having a daisy tattooed on my cheek would have totally changed my life.  He thought I would never have been hired at the college, would never have been able to buy a house on the salary of a McDonald's employee, never would have traveled all over the states nor met my fella.  I think he is just silly.  I still would have traveled...

It wasn't until I was in my early 40s that I actually got a tattoo.  I told a friend I wanted one on my inside ankle and I wanted daisies.  She drew up a little sketch and TaDa!  It is exactly what I had the artist put on my ankle.  

It was late fall when I had it etched and every time I took off the black tights at the end of the day I would be a little surprised at first.  And then I would grin!  I still love it 20 years later.

I think tattoos say something about you that is unique.  I wanted to get a second one that expressed a major life change but I just never got around to it.  It was quite simple in design, like me, and quite complicated in structure, like me.  Maybe someday :)  Or maybe it will be a simple little daisy on my cheek.  You never know.

peace~~~

The End of the Party Season Party

My brother-in-law asked me if we were going to have a Super Bowl party.  I asked him why I would want to do this.  He said "Super Bowl!"  And I asked again why I would want to do this.  I don't watch football, except when I am visiting him and my sister.  Then we watch lots of football and soccer and baseball and basketball.  But left to my own devices, I don't watch football.

But then I started thinking.  Super Bowl means the kids coming over, eating food, laughing.  Why not?  I asked both of my sons if they wanted to host the game.  They each have humungous televisions that when you watch something on it, you feel you are in the same place as the screen--the same room if the show is in a room, the same field if the show is in a field.  We just have a relatively small television.  Neither wanted us to come over there (cleaning, preparing food, other party-things that need to be done) so we decided to have it over here.  So then I got into it.

I found a recipe for football cookies.  I am not really very crafty but they looked simple enough for me and if they looked silly, no one would do more than laugh at me while they scarfed them up.  So I decided we needed these.  First I started with peanut butter cookies.  Flatten them down into the shape of a football.  Actually I exaggerated the shape because I figured they would puff out. As you can see, I tried to be authentic by having some a bit deflated footballs and others fully inflated...

Then I mixed one quarter cup peanut butter into a tub of chocolate frosting.  I smeared this frosting onto the cooled cookies.

After that set a bit, I added the white frosting that came in a tube.  Unfortunately I didn't read the tube instructions that said I needed some sort of tip to put on the tube to decorate as I wanted, so my lacing was a bit thick.  Better to grasp the ball, right?  TaDa!  Football cookies!

I decided to order bake-at-home pizza, add some bean/layered dip and celery, some Lay's potato and tortilla chips, hot cheese dip, and salsa.  I baked some mini-corn dogs.  I roasted mushrooms.  I tossed in a salad (that no one touched so I had a great lunch today) and some deviled eggs, strawberries and we were good to go!  Oh yeah...and we celebrated my sons' birthdays (February 5) as well, so I had some slices of cake and cards as well.



My grandgirl and her friend hung around upstairs with the Kitten Bowl and their iPads.  They also created their own pizzas. Turned out pretty good, too. 

So we yelled at the television, yelled at the coaches, cheered our team, booed that last play (what were they thinking??  But knew if they had made that touchdown, we would never have questioned anything), and walked away with a good afternoon.  No family fights.  No disagreements.  Pup was happy that all her favorites were here to pat her head.  I was happy that all my favorites were here to use up space. 

Gotta thank my brother-in-law for a good idea.  I was rooting for my Northwest team, but it was a great game even with that last (what were they thinking???) play.  Enjoyed the commercials for the most part.  Enjoyed the company the most.

I always think I have more hair than shows up.  What happened to the long red flowing crown?  One of the mysteries of life, eh?

peace~~~

Freaky Friday

Woke up this morning to fog.  We have been having fog many mornings.  Winter fog is sometimes bad if the weather has been exceptionally cold and the fog moisture freezes on the trees and roads.  But this isn't freezing fog today.  It is just some fog.

My daughter-in-law loves fog.  She loves pictures of trees through the fog.  She loves the idea of getting lost in a fog.  When I was in grade school, my friends and I would go way out into the back of the playground and draw a house in the dirt.  We'd draw in beds and toilets and stoves.  We'd have a front path to the door.  We were very creative in our house-building.  There were times when there would be a heavy ground fog.  It was the best!  We would run out to our houses and could feel like we were the only ones out playing. The fog would soften the other kids playing noises and we were the only ones in the world.  Once we actually were...the fog had soften the bell so we couldn't hear it and so we didn't return to class.  The teacher and the office people became worried and came out to find us.  We did finally hear them calling us but until then, we were happily playing house.

Tule fog in Central California

I used to drive south during winter to visit my folks.  I would have to drive through the San Joaquin Valley--through Central California--on I-5 to get there.  They have a Tule Fog that is so thick you can't see the cars on the road.  I had to get behind a semi and follow closely so I could stay on the road.  I couldn't get off the freeway because I couldn't see the exits until I was beside them.  If it was night, it would be visually worse.  I remember my mom telling of a time when she was working an election.  Our elementary school was a voter place.  At that time they had to count ballots by hand, so she would finish very late at night.  She said the fog was so bad she couldn't see the center line.  She had to drive with her door open and her eyes both on the line and the road ahead.

There were times I drove my speech team home from a tournament--heading down I-5 through Washington--and fingers of fog came creeping around the van.  The night would get darker and my heart would jump a little.  I would slow down a bit.  The students would continue singing and complaining about how the "judges not smart enough to understand" and other things.  Never let them see me sweat...  But the fog never got as bad as it is through Central California.

So this morning I woke up to a bit of fog.  My daughter-in-law will be happy.  In Southern California they said it will "burn off;" in Portland we say it will lighten up to simply another overcast day.  Perfect weather for piecing a new quilt.

peace~~~

Throwback Thursday: My First Quilt

We moved to Grants Pass, Oregon in 1970.  Our first home was in what had once been a motel.  We had the front unit, which was the manager's unit.  So besides a large living space, it had a bonus area that used to be the front office.  Unfortunately we couldn't afford this luxury and soon found a tiny house down on Maple Lane.  Two things, beyond the problem of no money, that made this little house ideal.  First, it had neighbors.  This was a big thing for a 19-year-old stay-at-home-mother with a little 5 month-old baby, a young mother who knew no one in Grants Pass.  Secondly, the house next door to the motel blew up from a gas leak the day after we moved out.  It pretty much blew out the place where we were living along with it.

I had great neighbors on Maple Lane.  There was an older couple who lived to our left and a young couple to our right.  Across the street was another young couple with children a bit older than ours.  I loved living in Grants Pass; I hated living in Grants Pass.  We were dirt poor.  In 1974, my children's father got a job in Portland and we moved north.  

Christmas 1972 Grants Pass, Oregon

Now I told you about Grants Pass because I thought I was living there when I made this first quilt.  I thought the older couple had given me the fabric.  But after searching pictures, I realized we had already moved to Portland when I made it, so the story takes a sharp turn in the journey of this quilt.

So now I don't know who gave me the rectangular patches of fabric, but someone did...  Maybe it was a sweet woman in Grants Pass; maybe it was someone in Portland.  But someone gave me pieces of fabric. The rectangles were all cut out, reds, blues, and blacks.  That special quilting someone asked me if I wanted to make them into a quilt.  Just about that time, we found an old treadle sewing machine for only a few dollars.  My children's father cleaned it up and TaDa!  I had a sewing machine!    Now this wasn't my first sewing machine.  I received one when I graduated from high school--a portable Singer.  I had made plenty of clothes on this little machine.  But a treadle machine meant I could sew while my sons napped and not make noise!  It was perfect.

I sewed all the patches of fabric together and found an old blanket--one not in the best shape--for the batting. I found flannel for the backing.  It was inexpensive flannel, maybe 50 cents a yard.  It didn't match anything in the quilt top, but it seems like it was all they had.  And I tied the quilt, using pink yarn.  Why pink?  I have no idea.  It must have been something I had hanging around.  The binding was made from the same fabric as the patches.  I don't remember how I figured out how to put on the binding but looking at it now I am impressed.  I gave it to my mother for Christmas that year.  My elder son, so excited to have gramma here, told her, "I'm not suppose to tell you that momma made you a blanket." That was the last I saw of this quilt, forgetting all about it.

I started quilting in 2003 and had totally forgotten I had made this one back in the 70s.  And they say you never forget your first time.  HA!  Jump forward to 2010.  I found this first quilt in Mom's cupboard one evening when I was visiting and looking for pillows.  It had never been used but she had saved it.  I tossed it on the guest bed and proceeded to use it every visit after that.  I brought it home with me when we cleared out Mom's house and put much of her things in storage.  I use it many chilly evenings to throw over my legs as we watch Jeopardy.

Perhaps the moral is that you may not remember your first time, but seeing that first one can bring it all back to you in full force.  Unless you can't remember if you made it in 1973 or '74, in Grants Pass or Portland.  Hell, I'm still not sure...  *wink*

peace~~~