Making A List, Checking It...

The time is 3:20 pm. Eight and a half hours are left before 2018 fades away, to be consigned to memory. Or not. I think I'd just as soon forget about most of it.

I did complete an afghan for an annual Chinese auction next spring. That gives me two and I hope to make one more. The poor quilt is still waiting to be finished. The problem? A couple months ago I experienced what's called "Trigger finger". I did some research on it and found out it's an extension of carpal tunnel syndrome. The affected fingers have a tendency to lock, like you're pretending to have a gun. I've been waking up with it every morning and it takes about an hour or so for it to go away. At least, so far, there's no arthritis involved and I'm hoping it stays that way. I can deal with a little inconvenience.

The "electronics from hell" (see previous blog) are fighting a losing battle. The new laptop has been set up. A couple weeks ago, a new printer was set up as well. I didn't have much choice. It seems you always need a certain thing when you don't have it. The previous printers were hardly used and ended up a mess. Six months without a printer and I had need of one several times. "Of course," she said with a twinge of sarcasm. "Isn't that always the way?" The only battle left at this point is the TV.

It's been a little over three months since I've had a working TV and it's been VERY quiet around here. Sometimes it feels like there's no one else in the building. No sounds from other apartments, no one in the hall. It's easy to lose track of the days. At least with the working TV, I just had to think back on what programs I watched the night before and I knew what day it was. The bummer is, I was looking forward to the new fall season and said flat screen died four days before the season started. With the cable gone, CBS all access, Hulu, Vudu and other 'systems' are looking better and better. There has been one advantage for not having a TV at this point.

Since 1998, I've been keeping a journal of sorts for books. It's one of the few things I've actually kept up over the last twenty years. With no TV to watch I've been doing a lot more reading. For this year, the grand total is 188. Added on to the previous 19 years (drum roll, please) an over all grand total of 3073 books. That's an average of 153.65 annually. That's a lot of books. Some were short stories, others were 400+ pages. Over that time, I've included some of Mom's books that are still sitting here, waiting to be shipped out. One of her favorite authors was C.J. Box. The whole Joe Pickett series was really hard to put down. There were a couple books that were published at least ten years ago and had plots that closely mirrored today's political scene. I was amazed at how close it was.

One other good thing about reading is how something in the story can trigger an idea for another story. You just have to be careful that you don't get so involved in your ideas that what you're reading is nothing but words, with no meaning behind them.  Lately, I've had this soup kettle sitting by the hearth, doing a slow simmer. Every time an idea pops up, it gets tossed into the pot, to be checked out later on. At lease that's how I imagine it. When I finally take a break, I can poke around inside the kettle to see what I've got there. Some bits might be ready to work on while others have to be tossed back for a bit more simmering. Sooner or later they form the basis for some main dish, as long as they don't sit in the pot too long and end up sticking to the bottom. By that time, you pretty well know the particular idea wasn't such a good one, for whatever reason.

I don't know if I'll bother making a list of goals for the new year since the last couple years have been disappointing. For right now, I'm going to add a few more pieces to the jigsaw puzzle sitting on the dining table and figure out what's for supper. The rest of the evening will be focused on watching a couple new DVDs.

Here's to 2019. May it be all you hope it to be.

Looking Back Before Moving Forward

This annual rollercoaster ride is just reaching its highest point before it goes into the last downward trek. Before it hits bottom, I thought it might be a good time to assess the highlights--and lowlights--of this year.

 

Earlier in the summer, I got back to working on that quilt that doesn't want to get finished. The month of August was so hot and humid, it stopped progress. Again. We'd have an official 3-day heat wave, then a day or two of relief followed by another heat wave. And that was pretty much the pattern for the month. You know you're not going to get much of anything done when your needle squeaks when you push it through three layers of fabric and batting. So far, the month of November has proven to be more productive and every stitch brings me closer to finishing the project.

 

I've dubbed the year of 2018  as belonging to the Electronics From Hell.  In May, I purchased a 50" flat screen TV and got to enjoy it for 4 months. It died leaving me to wonder what the red flashing light was for. My son informed me it was an error code, (which no one could figure out) So I called the manufacturer who agreed to send a replacement, and I was to ship mine back to them. The replacement lasted all of 10 minutes and has refused to work again. I'll have to ship this one back as well, but for a refund this time. It's no fun shipping TVs cross country.  In the meantime, I was looking forward to using the new portable DVD player, I'd purchased. Got the battery fully charged, installed a DVD and waited. Yay, the "Loading" window appeared... only to be replaced by a second window stating... No Disc. My laptop's battery is now fully drained, for the second time. Despite being plugged in, the battery never charged.

 

Electronics and craft work aside, my path has been obscured for months now, with no destination in sight. That's a hard thing to accept since everyone should have somewhere to go, something to accomplish. I can blame a feeling of being lost to lack of ambition, (or frustration) or just not knowing if I want to continue on this road or try another one. Sometimes you get to a point in your life where you want to make a change but to what, is the question.

 

One good thing that happened recently was eavesdropping on a conversation in the wee hours of one morning. That hasn't happened in almost three years. Maybe it's a sign that things are starting to look up. I certainly hope so. I think I'm about due for something good.

 

Elsa carefully approached the stranger on the hilltop. The first thing she noticed about him was his strange clothing It was all of one piece and an odd shade of green. The second thing she noticed was the way he stared up at the sky, as if he were looking for something.

 

"Where are the jets?" he asked, not so much as noting her presence. "There should be jets."

 

She contemplated his question for a moment then asked one of her own.  "What are jets?" 

What's In A Language?

A few days ago, I came across a short video narrated by comedian Tudor Owen. He was explaining the choices of keeping the Welsh name of a lake, or giving said lake an English name. He said Lake Australia had been suggested. Apparently an island on the lake is shaped like the continent. The reason for the change? The Welsh name is difficult to pronounce by folks not familiar with the Welsh language. That got me to thinking.

 

Just for a minute or two, let's go back in time to the days of one of Noah's (yes, THAT Noah) grandsons. Nimrod was considered to be a great hunter and leader. His goal was to keep the people close together, in direct violation of a previous mandate given to humans. As a result, his attempt to build a great tower was thwarted by the sudden introduction of many languages, and the people scattered to the ends of the earth.

 

From that day on, new cultures were established, with their customs and language. Over hundreds of years, changes came about, dialects appeared while some languages died off to be replaced by others. English has become the most prominent. Today, we get a sense of  history through the various communications, through food and art, architecture, as well as the spoken language.

 

In the mid 1940's, around the end of WWII, many Scottish parents refused to teach the younger generation their native language of Gaelic. The reason? They wanted their children to fit into British culture. Today, a group of Scots are doing everything they can to bring back the language. It's an important part of their heritage.

 

So what does all this have to do with Tudor Owen and his take on changing that lake's name? He gave a brief telling of the lake's Welsh name and the myth behind it. (The Welsh name means "grayhead".) Granted, the Welsh name is unpronounceable by English standards, (and the spelling is absolutely mind boggling) think of all that would be lost if that name were dropped in favor of "Australia" --no offense to our friends from down under. Once you start making little changes like that, you begin to chip away at the core of a culture. One chip at a time, one after another until you create irreparable damage to a way of living.

 

To my way of thinking, why not compromise?  Have a phonetic spelling below the name. Give visitors the opportunity to "taste" a language and the stories behind the words. Granted, it can't be done with all things, but it could go a long way in piquing a tourist's curiosity. Like water constantly dripping on a stone, frequent chipping away at our many cultures because someone doesn't understand something can seriously ruin our diversity.

 

Is compromise the answer or do we let it all fade to nothing? Something to think about.

 

 (The story of Nimrod can be found in the Bible book of Genesis 11:1-9)

Thinking About...

I apologize for having been away so long. The last few months have been inundated with things that couldn't be put off. There was also the recent loss of my youngest sister. She was a great punster and her quirky sense of humor will be missed.

 

Some time ago, I made a "promise" to someone very dear to me. I would make a quilt for a wedding gift. Since that time life has intruded far too many times and that project had to be put on hold. Now, four and a half years later, the project is progressing very nicely. I will try to post a picture of it when it's done. (after I figure out how to take said pic and get it on my laptop. What can I say? I'm still, and probably will always be, a computer dummy.)

 

With all the changes that have been going on, I've found myself to be sadly lacking in ambition for the things that have meant most to me. There are so many craft projects I want to try but I'm sure you know how that goes. If you get overwhelmed with ideas and plans you end up doing nothing.

 

 Thank goodness one thing that fell by the wayside, so to speak, has finally come back. After my mom passed, I felt as if my muse had abandoned me at the same time. I'm happy to say Lady Muse is back and we're updating and expanding a story I'd finished some time ago. So far, so good. I'm planning to make this story the first of my work to be self-published. I don't know how that will turn out but I figured it's time I sort of branched out.

 

To write, and write well, you should be a reader and that I've done a lot of. It's helped me to cope with everything else going on in my life. In the building where I live, there is a laundry room that most of the residents make use of. (Others have a service that picks up and delivers every week.) Sometimes people leave books on the table for whoever wants to read them. When you finish with them, you bring them back for someone else to read. Well the last time I did laundry, someone had left a bag of books on the table, and of course I looked through them. I picked up six of the books, left two behind. I felt a wee bit guilty about that until I was told there had been another bag of books left the day before. Good thing I didn't see that one.

 

I've read two of the books and enjoyed both of them. None of the books are recent releases, but that's okay. One was One Heart to Win by Johanna Lindsey. It's been quite a while since I've read any of her work and I'm just realizing how much I've missed her stories. The second book was by an author I'd never heard of and judging by a note someone left in the book, it's one of a series of 5. The author is Donna Birdsell and the book is titled Falcon's Mistress. I had a hard time putting that one down. The romance wasn't overwhelming as some romances are, and the twists and turns of the plot could get you lost if you're not really paying attention. Once I really got into it I had to finish it, which I did a short time ago. I'm ready to move on to the next book.  When I do laundry next week, at least half the books I took from the table with be returned for another reader to enjoy.

 

I'm finding that as I get older (and it might be just my imagination) life seems to go faster. At least in my younger years, if I didn't have time for something, I could be pretty well certain the opportunity would come along again at some point. If it didn't, then it wasn't meant to be. I'm trying to find a way to fit in all the things I want to do. Life is never a sure thing and you have to make the most of it while you have it. Maybe a "bucket list" isn't such a crazy idea.

 

The one thing I'd like to be able to say is "I had few regrets and did it my way."  

 

 (Thank you, Frank)

Definitely Not Glass Slippers

 

A few days ago I took a nasty tumble in the hallway. I felt my foot get "stuck" on the carpeting and tumbled along till I finally went down.  While I stumbled forward, trying to stop my momentum before my face met the floor, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Fortunately, I ended up with nothing worse than a couple rug burns on one hand and a thorough shaking up. (Like one of 007's drinks) It could have been a lot worse. I'm definitely NOT looking for sympathy, but over the next few days it did get me to wondering.

 

 Footwear.

 

We don't give much thought to what we put on our feet until we need a new pair of shoes or something for a special occasion. When we're young, we give first consideration to style. We want to make an impression. As we get a little older style is still a consideration but not so much. There's a lot more going on in our world and we give more consideration to comfort for chasing after or keeping up with our own kids. If we didn't, how would we survive all those other daily responsibilities we've taken on?

 

That still doesn't account for the shoe industry giving us what they THINK we want, Long ago, our Grand Creator gave us 26 bones in each foot so we could have a fairly wide range of motion. Why would we want to limit it?  The sole of a shoe is in one flat solid piece from back to front with no flexibility to bend. The natural human gait is to let the  foot "roll", heel to toe in a smooth motion. The sides of the shoe, around the ankle, are often just high enough to interfere in the ankle's ability to rotate. The toes are meant to bend with every step to help maintain balance.. Since the shoe's sole can't bend, neither can the box of most shoes. The toes can't do their job properly. 

.

Modest dress shoes, usually flats, are given leather soles. (Not such a great idea unless you plan to go "ice skating" sans ice). They're dangerous on any surface until their worn enough to grip whatever you walk on. We've been advised to wear slippers with a half-inch heel to help prevent falling backward. Try finding them. They're almost as hard to find as hen's teeth. I know. I've been looking.

 

The shoe industry will continue to make what they want us to wear, and, for the most part, they will ignore what is practical, safe and comfortable. That's the way it's been and will always be. Now that I've had my say, I should take another short walk to ease the still slight trembling I feel when I get to that particular spot in the hallway. That's my glass slipper to find.

 

"I Go To Pieces"

Patsy Cline's interpretation was a lot different than mine. She was singing about lost love while my idea is that of being a cut-up. Those of you who are hobbyists and deal with projects that contain a gazillion pieces will know what I mean. You have to go where the pieces are to build anything.

I dabble in a lot of things and currently it just happens to be quilting. I never go for the easy stuff just dive right in when I see a design I like. My very first quilt was a double wedding ring pattern. Not the easiest to start out with, but it came out pretty decent and was a gift to someone close. Or... I'll take the basic idea of a standard design, make some major changes and call it my own creation. Like the cat quilt I made some years ago. I created  twelve or fifteen counted cross-stitch cats on aida cloth, trimmed it with paw prints to set off each block and ended up with an unusual twin size quilt. After moving a few times in the last few years, I lost track of that quilt. You know how that goes. Every time you move, you lose something.

Since Murphy has seemed to become a permanent fixture around here, enough has happened to set me way back in getting things done. (Not just the quilt.) I've tried many times to give Murphy the boot, but he never could take a hint. Who knows, maybe I'll find a way where we can compromise. Hahaha.

There is nothing small about this latest project. 594 blocks make up the quilt top (or will when it's fully assembled.) Three pieces to each block and you have 1,782 pieces, not counting the odd ones I'll need to add around the edge to keep it straight. I've got my own version of the tumbling blocks design and it's gonna be a meteor storm. One print in four different colors, with deeper shades to compliment it. I had changed my mind about the block arrangement and discovered I had insufficient solid color blocks for the background and couldn't find any more fabric to match. Silly me. I wasn't sure what to do about the problem then that little cartoon lightbulb began to glow with a brilliant idea. Using the fabric I got for the back of the quilt, I'll have more than enough to cut for the background of the pieced top. I found a lovely print in a pale color that will look great for the backing. In fact, it just might make the quilt reversible. That would be an added bonus. If I really get cracking, (I'm hand stitching the whole thing since I don't have the space anywhere to spread it out to work on it) this project, originally intended to be a wedding gift may just make it for the couple's fifth anniversary later this year.

Now that I think about it, this was probably how I got to be a "patchwork" writer. I rarely do anything in any logical order. Create enough sections so eventually they can be put together properly to tell a story. I've got enough of those segments sitting around, to make several somethings of them. I just need sufficient time to get it all done...like a couple hundred years.  Then I wonder why/how I go to pieces? 

Now you know.

Chilling Out...Literally

With the stroke of a minute hand, one year has ended and  a new one has begun. Do I feel any different? Not really. It's mainly remembering to change the year on any checks I write. It's also knowing winter is only a couple weeks old and the worst is yet to come.

After a gorgeous extended autumn, winter cold has struck early. For the last few days, the temperature has been in the teens or lower. The night wind chills have been in the single digits and it's supposed to continue for at least the next week or two. As much as I hate the extreme cold, I feel bad for Erie, PA. They ended up with fifty inches of snow in thirty-six hours. It's a good reason to hibernate, and an easy goal to keep while Old Man Winter and Jack Frost have their fun.

Mom used to watch the Patriot games with me. She didn't understand anything about the game but she loved to watch them play in the mud and snow. To her, literally getting down and dirty was more fun to watch. She would have loved the game played earlier last month. I don't recall what teams were playing but it snowed during the game and they ended up playing in a snowstorm. The snow was piling up fast and every time someone made a tackle or a player went to ground, the light, fluffy stuff was tossed around. It was like watching a bunch of kids diving into the accumulation.

I have to say, those players were mighty brave yesterday during their final game of the regular season. The temperature was fifteen degrees early on. By the time the game was over, it was a "cool" twelve degrees. Why were they brave? At least a third of the players didn't have long sleeves. They made me cold just watching them.

Since I have no intention of going anywhere for the next couple months, you'd think it would be a good time to set up a few goals for the rest of the year. The last couple years, my goals have pretty much fallen by the wayside.  Only one goal is being met now and even that one is four years overdue. What is it they say? Better later late than never? This queen-size quilt was supposed to be a wedding gift but I ran into problems before I could get it going. Since I started on it a month ago, (I'm stitching blocks by hand) I've been making good progress with half the blocks made. When I get the rest stitched, I can lay them out to decide on the order they'll be put together. If I keep it up, the intended couple just might get their wedding present before their fifth anniversary.

I've decided not to set any other goals since I've done such a poor job of late to keep previous ones. I figure by not setting more, then I won't be disappointed when I don't complete them. The possibilities are simmering on the mental back burner. If I do get any of them done then I'll be pleasantly surprised. So I guess THE goal would be to try to get some things done that have been waiting forever for attention.

In the meantime, I'll do my best not to become a popsicle while rooting for the Patriots as they go for an unprecedented #6.  

Here's hoping you achieve whatever goals you set for yourself in 2018.