Weather Report and A [Lengthy] Quilt Update

I woke at half past 5 this morning, rearranged pillows, nudged a cat or two from the place where my feet wanted to be. Another hour of sleep crept up on me before the room took on the grey light of pre-dawn. By 7:15 a tinge of faint orange-red was beginning to stain the eastern horizon and the digital thermometer indicated a freezing 3 F. The sun did fully emerge, which was cheering, but didn't encourage much warmth.

I had a chiropractor appointment in town and an errand to get the latest finished quilt on its way to the owner. Jim decided to go along as driver--which meant he was designated to get out in the cold and fuel up the car.

He took care of his errand at Tractor Supply Co. while I lay on the chiropractor's table. Quilt delivered, then into Wal Mart with a short list of items needed: fresh veg for salads, tins of tuna for humans, tinned food for the cats, with the usual hovering over the shelves wondering which assortment would appeal to the majority of the tribe. 

Thimble-kitten gobbles any variety on offer, others may turn up scornful noses at 'dinners' labeled 'mixed grill' or 'seafood platter.' 

Within about 5 minutes of entering Wal Mart I don't want to be there. I walk as fast as I can, headed purposefully for the items on my list. Jim decided to push the shopping cart and plodded behind me with a vaguely unhappy face. He insists on using the self checkout stands while, as a rule, I impatiently wait in line for a human checker.

The self check device today was balky--rang up several items twice, refused to scan others. We solicited the help of the clerk designated for that job. A pleasant soul, bundled in a hooded jacket, standing by with her little key to over-ride the scanner's miscalculations. She smiled apologetically, displaying blackened and broken teeth. 'The machines just do this some days,' she explained.

Home through the sun-glittered early afternoon; home to the warmth and scent of the woodfire and the thronging welcome of the cats. 

I concocted a chicken/veg/barley soup. I am usually a great soup maker, but this one seemed 'off' in some way that I couldn't identify. We each ate a bowl full, but I took the rest out for the barn cats.

There is a new visitor these last cold days, a grey and white cat, not thin or bedraggled, but obviously skittish. I suppose it is another semi-feral Tom. If I give it a name does that mean it will feel welcome to return? The huge tabby we call 'Herman' has been visiting for nearly three years, still dashes away when we come near. He stands glowering at me from the foot of the steps or behind the tubs which in summer hold flowering plants. 

'You eat my food,' I tell him; 'You think nothing of spraying the doorposts! A bit of gratitude wouldn't go amiss!'

I made myself bundle up and trudge once around the meadow loop. There was little wind but the cold was invasive. I pulled my scarf over my face--which made my glasses fog. Chuffing back up from the lower slope of meadow I listened to the squeaky crunch of snow under my boots. I stomped my feet on the rug outside the back door, was startled to find that when I stepped onto the polished concrete floor inside my feet slid as though on ice.

8:15 P.M. and 9 degrees F as I write. The next 36 hours are meant to be our coldest with a slight warming trend by Wednesday. 

Those who know that we spent most of our lives in Vermont before a 12 year adventure in Wyoming often remark, 'You don't mind this cold, do you? After all, you must have gotten used to it!'

We do mind it, but also remind ourselves that we aren't dealing with frozen water pipes in an old house, or the need to get a recalcitrant vehicle started in a timely way to head for work. 

We did note today the incongruity of the garden seed racks lining several aisles in Wal Mart! 

Gardeners are always optimistic, ready for the next season.

Lemon verbena that spends summers on the back porch. I pruned it hard when it was brought inside in early November. Twiggy new growth leans into the light of the south window.

The west porch room became too cold for plants, so rosemarys and geraniums are crowded on a table in the middle sunroom. A beefsteak begonia has blossomed and the ungainly Norfolk Island Pine towers in the corner.

A zoom shot from the horizontal north window high on the main floor bathroom wall. The Flicker is a frequent visitor.

Thimble-kitten on the windowsill behind my bed. I tried to get a better photo of the Rail Fence quilt, which meant that Thimble wanted to 'help.'

I did enjoy working with the strips of favorite fabrics during the long winter of covid shut downs.

As each 6 inch unit was trimmed and assembled into a 12 inch 4-patch block, it was layered with a square of batting and backing, using scraps left from other quilts. I was inspired to try 'quilt-as-you-go' free motion quilting. I muddled through 14 of 49 blocks, put them away. When I determined this fall that I would finish the project I used masking tape to guide a double diagonal 'X'.

This is the free-hand leaf design that I attempted.

Attempts at 'cinnamon roll' swirls. Perhaps had I persevered I could have achieved something passable if not artistic, but the idea of struggling with the remaining blocks was too daunting. I watched you tube demonstrations for various ways of joining the quilted blocks. Having already layered blocks, batting and backing there was too much bulk in the joining seams to work as neatly as I would have liked. Applying the horizontal covering strips was laborious.

By whatever method one chooses, at some point there comes the task of pushing a large wodge of bulky material through the machine. I found it impossible to achieve perfectly straight seams.

When finished, I spent some time considering what a much better quilt I could have made by joining the rows in the conventional way and waiting until such time as I could deliver it for proper machine quilting.

However, it is on my bed, it is colorful, it is warm. 

Devin's quilt, 16 inch blocks utilizing previously made Sawtooth Stars.

Photos of the finished [quilted] piece are on my phone and I've been too lazy to attempt posting from that device. I name my quilts. This one is 'Staggering Stars.'

'Heart To Heart'

Kristin's quilt, binding done last evening and delivered to a friend today who will, in turn, hand over to K.  These two [huge] quilts were a departure from the traditional designs that usually inspire me. 

Janet, who does my machine quilting, worked an allover design of loopy heart shapes. 

Friend Jennie in Wales shared a photo of a block she is exploring. It intrigued me, so I drafted it as a 9 inch [finished] Ohio Star variation and pulled out some fabric that has been waiting for just the right project. After sketching, measuring, cutting, I had time to construct two blocks, picking apart two of the corner units twice[!] before I got it right. 

My brain does NOT do mirror imaging. I have to lay the whole block out in units beside the sewing machine, carefully pick up the little pieces and stitch them. It shouldn't be possible to turn them the wrong way between the table and the sewing machine-but I can do it!

Also a work in progress, 'Aunt Sukey's Choice' using Moda fabrics from my stash.

Last evening I watched an older video from Kate of The Last Homely House, in which she mentioned having 9 projects 'on the go.'

I usually have three, as well as pondering others, but more than that would be frustrating, mind boggling.

There's the saying among quilters, 'She who dies with the most fabric, wins.' 

I don't want to be the winner, so I keep at it!

Finally:  you may recall that we refused to buy an oil lamp priced at $45. Today, wheeling madly through Wal Mart, we came upon a display of oil lamps and bottles designated as lamp oil. $15 for the lamp, a few dollars for the jug of 'oil' 

Jim has filled this one and stashed it on a high shelf in the pantry, ready for the next power outage.

I'm trying not to think of Thimble-kitten exploring the lighted lamp only to singe her whiskers, break the chimney or set the house afire.

 

Bleak Mid-Winter

Before the snow began

Mid-day, as dark as early morning.

In the midst of the snow flurries the juncos arrived. Opening the front door in an attempt to zoom in on them sends them fluttering away. They bounce about, pecking in the gravel, sleek feathered, black capped. 

On a cold sunny morning after a week of intermittent snow, freezing rain, fierce winds that left us overnight without power, I stepped off the back porch  and found this tiny corpse. There seemed no damage such as a cat might inflict, only the tiny head twisted at a slight angle. My thought is that the bird was driven by a gust of wind to smack into the side of the house, perhaps hitting a sun-porch window and dropping to the ground below. I marveled at the beauty of the feathers, the patterning of white on black. 

I carried the little thing to the edge of the south ravine, tossed it onto a snow-dusted heap of leaves.

A few mornings later Jim and I were sitting at our respective desks when I became aware of a repetitive tapping. I enquired of J. was he watching a video of some sort. We sat listening alertly and traced the sound to just outside J's west bedroom window.

I scooted downstairs and out the porch door in time to see a woodpecker bashing away at the wooden siding. This was a unique happening. We often see various woodpeckers and flickers or hear their distinctive drumming coming from the wooded ravines, but never one 'attacking' the house. 

I wonder if the 'drummer' is the mate of the dead bird.

Cold clear days with snow on the ground are beautiful with sun-sparkles and patterns of blue shadows.

My calendar notations record that I have walked on only 7 of January's 18 days.

I pull on boots to scurry out with kitchen scraps that are tossed under a tree behind the workshop. I hope that birds, or even the lurking possum, perhaps the grey squirrels, find some bits of nourishment in our crusts and veg parings.

Dealing with the cat litter boxes in slippery weather takes a bit more careful plodding down the slope to the edge of the south ravine. I note the branches and twigs downed in the wind, pick my way around patches of ice, glad to return to the warmth of the house.

Snow cleared by deer to find patches of grass.

On days when the wind is less bitter and the sun shines, I bundle up and trudge around the meadow loop or out to the mailbox on the road. I notice the tracks of the barn cats, Willis and Sally, and the lurking feral, Herman. A possum has dragged its ratty tail through the snow; there are the distinctive marks where a rabbit has bounded along the slope beneath the big oak. 

Less welcomed are the paw prints indicating that dogs on the loose have barged through the dooryard again. 

On January 9 the sun shone although the daytime temp didn't rise above the freezing mark. Walking up the slope of the east meadow I was companioned by a flutter of birds: bluebirds, sparrows, several small greyish birds who moved through low branches too quickly for me to identify them. A cardinal flashed through the hedgerow, a robin perched in the twisted branches of an oak long enough for me to focus a zoom shot with my old camera. 

Whether the days are cold--or colder, dark or cheerfully sunny, there are the quotidian tasks of housekeeping and simple meals, laundry that in this weather is mostly finished in the dryer rather than pegged out to freeze on the back porch lines. 

Observations, words, phrases, tumble through my mind but fail to be committed to screen or paper.

I read until my vision blurs; Cousin Pat and I have reviewed several of the stories in our shared French Canadian ancestry. 

Two large quilt tops were finished and handed over to Janet who does most of my machine quilting. Binding on the one for grandson D. and delivered to him; the one for his special lady, K. picked up on Thursday and awaiting the formidable task of binding. A finish--finally-on the Rail Fence quilt that was begun during the winter of Covid seclusion. I attempted the 'quilt-as-you-go' process on that one, put it away in discouragement, brought it out with a determination to finish. Not a totally satisfactory production but the thing is on my bed. Perhaps the best compliment is to say it is colorful!

So, more than halfway through the month.

Daylight is lengthening, but we are braced for predicted severe cold during the coming week.

The pantry is well-stocked, the woodshed likewise.

Should we need to venture out we have warm clothes, stout boots, reliable vehicles. 

I have three sewing projects underway, two new books.

Springtime when it arrives will be welcome, but I'm reminded of my Mother's admonition not to 'wish away' life pining for the future rather than making the best of the present!

A rather blurry photo of the Rail Fence quilt--I suspect I deleted the better one.

Would like to remove this one, but that no longer seems to be an option.