New Year...New Routine

The holidays are over and life goes on.  The Christmas stuff has been stashed, and it's a brand new year.  Our holiday season was different this year beginning with a Thanksgiving of escapism.  We ran away to the Carribbean for a cruise because I didn't want to cook.  We returned in time for me to spend a day in the courthouse trying to avoid serving on a jury.  I succeeded and came home to finish my marathon of stitching.  I did take a wicked little detour by my favorite sewing center on the way downtown to pick up some supplies and stayed long enough for a demonstration of a sewing companion for Dinah and Little Brother.  Ol' Abner was apparently in search of the solution to my Christmas wish and sent me back the next week to add the Spirit to my collection.  My spring agenda involves a whole round of classes to use this new tool.  A few days later we awoke to discover our sweet little dog unable to bear weight on her right hind leg.  We feared she had blown her cruxiate ligament and increased her dose of anti-inflammatory medication.  Just before we went to Houston a few years ago, she had a similar injury to her left leg.  It healed with care and medication.  We hoped for the same result this time. The Germans arrived, my quilts were completed and we planned for a trip to Ft Worth for the week of Christmas.  When we took Belle to the veterinary clinic for boarding, we asked that she be checked by the doctor during her stay.  The news was not good.  Doc told us it was in fact ruptured, but this time it would only get worse without intervention and the further concern was the weakness still in the opposite leg might render her unable to walk at all.  On Tuesday, we took her to the veterinary specialist and left her for surgery and an overnight stay. We picked her up the following day and have become nurses and rehab specialists since.  Of course she is wearing the infamous cone to prevent her mouth from contacting any part of her body and we must keep her from running and jumping.  As she grows stronger, it is hard to keep her calm.  She loves to run and jump and her tail wags vigorously when she is happy.  Today she has been very happy.  One of us must remain at home with her at all times since she refuses to go into her crate while wearing the cone. This may be a long couple of weeks.  As I mentioned earlier, cooking has not been my most practiced skill this year.  I have cooked thee meals daily since her return home.  I should be taking advantage of the time to sew, but she likes to lay near my feet under my sewing table when I'm there.  The cone becomes a "bulldozer" and she cannot maneuver into her cubby at my feet any better than she can get into her crate.  As I said, it will be a long couple of weeks.

Holiday Handicrafting

Last spring I reviewed photos of the upcoming 2016 Row X Row event.  This years's theme was "Home Sweet Home" and it was apparent that now was the time to construct a quilt for Son and Daughter-In- Law.  Son was born on the birthday of Texas (i.e. San Jacinto Day) and has resided here his entire life, excepting his military service time!  When the patterns became available, I busily began choosing the rows (from hundreds) to include in their quilt. I finally narrowed my selection to eight and began my work.  Then I heard his brother-from- another-mother would visit from Germany!

 This special couple certainly justified a set of Texas Rows in a quilt of their own.  We have come to love them as they visited before and communicate by email and social media.  I duplicated six of the rows from Son and DIL's quilt and added two rows unique to theirs.  They seemed to like it when we opened gifts.  I regretted that some of my workmanship was lacking on both quilts and advised them that I would like to add a few finishes to them before the week is over.  I hope both couples will enjoy their keepsakes.  

Little did I know that this sweet German Girl was crafting a treat for me!  I opened my gift and was overwhelmed by a beautiful nativity crocheted in perfect detail!  I can hardly wait to display it in the coming years!  I had given Daughter most of my collection of Nativity Sets as we have cleared our keepsakes to the younger generation. This keepsake will be treasured in my house for many years to come and Son has informed me that he expects to be on the receipt chain for this one! Daughter only had a chance to admire the photo!

Just Breathe

The election is over and the vitriol continues.  I am saddened by the people believing this is the preemptive end to the world.  Oh the drama! I have many other concerns right now, so I must leave the governing to our "elected" officials.  Yes, we elected them, now we must let them get on with the government business.  That doesn't mean my congressman won't still hear from me occasionally.  I think it's important for them to know what I think whether they had my vote or not!

Setbacks, Sidesteps and Destinations!

I am overwhelmed, disgusted, frustrated and aggravated! That said, I am already feeling a little better.  I will vote Thursday in our little town where early voting can happen. Our air conditioner has decided it's a good time to implode and sacrifice it's compressor.  The political rhetoric is disgusting and beyond belief.  Ol' Abner is out looking for a portable cooler that can later be moved to his playhouse after the AC repair is completed (in about a week). I have four quilts in progress and some progress is evident but sewing time keeps being delayed while I deal with other issues.  Daughter has ongoing health issues and I feel helpless to make it all well.  I will go assist if I'm needed, but no point getting in the way if her highly capable family can power through with her. Ol' Abner had biopsies a couple of weeks ago of some skin lesions and the dermatologist called to schedule a follow up (scheduled at the time of the sampling) and the caller was unaware of his Friday appointment.  I am a little concerned that additional intervention may be needed.  We will know on Friday.  I made plans months ago to attend the Houston Quilt Show and I'm driving to Houston Friday afternoon ... unless another crisis requires my attention.  Dancin' girl lucked into some FREE tickets and I can hardly wait to divert my ticket money into some goodies for sewing fun. 

OK! I have invested a half hour of my time sitting at a computer keyboard and moving to this blog to vent my frustration.  In the grand scheme of things, there is nothing here that cannot be resolved. Time is tight, but I do work better under pressure.  A few minutes ago, we received a message that rearranged all priorities.  When Ol' Abner retired, we choose a competent broker to assist us with financial planning.  His skill was enhanced by an assistant with like-minded scruples.  She was always on top of our financial schedule and made sure he was apprised of all our strange concerns.  Moreover, we came to consider her a friend as we shared news about children, retirement, vacation spots and homes. She was just a little younger than me, but her life ended unexpectedly Monday.  She had a stroke and was lost to us. I cannot imagine a day when a quick phone call to her cannot give us the answer or solution to any of our financial questions or concerns. I am saddened by my loss of this person, but it places all my other complaints in a totally different light. 
I have a few minutes to put another quilt block together!  I can do this!

Button Button! Who has the button?

Mammy and her mama before her always kept a large jar, usually with a wide mouth, filled with buttons.  We used to play a little game when a crowd was cooped up indoors.  A button would be selected from the large jar and held between two palms.  Everyone would stand or sit in a circle and the holder of the button would slide the pressed together hands through each of the others.  At some time in the process the button would be dropped into another pair of hands.  At the completion of the circle, the leader would then ask "Button, button...who has the button"!  The person able to identify the recipient would then become the leader. This was a good way to occupy a lazy afternoon and develop our skills of observation with the ability to maintain a secret for a short time. The little ditty passed around my mind this morning.

I noticed a small brown box with a slightly askew lid.  It was so full, the top was elevated.  This is my version of extra buttons.  When I purchase clothing, a tiny little bag with extra buttons is often attached.  Of course I must keep these extra buttons where they can be located should catastrophe occur and a gap is left where a button is necessary.  I can easily count on the fingers of one hand, the times I have retrieved a button from this box to replace one that has gone missing.  Still I keep them...just in case!  This collection was due for some sorting and clearing. In fact, some of these buttons await their chance to come to the rescue on clothing that now lives in another state or has moved on to an unknown destination.  How inconsiderate of me not to retrieve the little bag with extra buttons and attach with a tiny safety pin to clothing being passed on!  I carefully opened the bags of now orphaned buttons  and dropped them in a small jar. Now I can stash the tiny bags in my sewing notions.  I often need to attach buttons or tiny trims to a project in progress. These little bags are a range of handy sizes for holding little sparkly things.

Now my little box lid closes nicely and I feel a lovely sense of accomplishment.  I placed the lid on my new jar of buttons and remember that I have one of those wide-mouth jars passed along from my mother back in a cabinet.  

Now the little jar is resting along side one of those jars of buttons (many still on their cards) that have never found that perfect destination.  I wonder if a bunch of old ladies would enjoy a game of  "Button Button"?  Mammy would be proud, order has once again been restored to my buttons without homes!  My little sparklies have empty bags awaiting when they are matched with potential projects. My morning was not wasted!

Wedding Day...hope for perfection, plan for trauma.

I have heard it said that every wedding has a drama. I spent several days last week baking a cake for 250 guests at an outdoor wedding. Of course a "rain plan" was in place, but the forecast was "scattered brief showers" in late afternoon with a warm evening.  It was accurate!

     

For the past week, this was the scene in my kitchen. The repeated hum of the mixer as my single oven heated was a memory from days gone by.  I agreed to make a wedding cake, an activity not indulged in many years.  I enjoyed the baking and planning with much trepidation on transporting the confection to the venue.  We anxiously watched the weather forecasts hoping for a cool dry afternoon and evening.

 I baked, and I baked some more.  My oven did not accommodate the sixteen inch round pans. The guard in the back of the racks could not be turned and it blocked the pan from going all the way into the oven. I had to turn a cooling rack upside down and set the pan on the elevating pins to clear the back guard.  It was a little precarious with the heavy batter filled pan (red batter no less).  The large layers must be quick frozen in order handle for decorating.  I no longer have my collection of extra refrigerators and freezers. Luckily Dancin' Girl has an extra freezer and refrigerator in her garage just around the corner.  We rearranged the shelves of the freezer and I wrapped the cooled layers, then took them over to her house.

Cakes are baked and iced

I whipped up enough icing to cover an elephant, or so it would seem.  About that time I began to refer to the concoction as "the beast", somewhat reminiscent of the armadillo groom's cake in the movie "Steel Magnolias". This was however the bridal cake and included a calming layer of rich white cake over each round of red velvet.

The wedding day arrived.  I had visited the site earlier in the week and the hilly winding roads would require that each tier be boxed and transported on a flat surface for assembly on the cake table.  Ol' Abner stepped up and cut heavy corregated cardboard to shape large flat boxes for the cake to travel smoothly.  They all arrived in perfect shape!  As I set the boxes on the table I realized there were few places on the surface that didn't have a mystery lump.  A level smooth surface is critical for successful display of a large wedding cake.  Furthermore, the table was very wobbly, the assembled cake would be very heavy.  My heart sank, but I set to work attempting to find a smooth place as the table tilted under the weight of the cake.  Meanwhile the photographer explained that the photos would be staged hopefully timed to show the setting sun through the trees as the cake was cut. A lovely plan that would require perfect timing and positioning of the cake.  The "table" was an old cable spool with a circle of lumps (bolt positions) around the center, forcing the cake on it's 18" plate to rest near the edge.  

The cake tiers had each been perfectly level...yes, I use the carpenter's tool to check, on my kitchen table. When assembled, it exhibited a slight tilt, but felt sturdy when I tested it.  Rain clouds were gathering and a gentle breeze was becoming stronger.  Cheerleader A and her mom were watching and offering to help as I stacked the beast in place.  The plan was to have the groom's cake and a tower of decorated cookies on the other side of the table.  One of the helpers went inside and brought back a lovely crystal plate to hold the chocolate cheesecake for serving and I was convinced my work was done.

We left the venue to change to our wedding appropriate clothing and Cheer A and her mom agreed to stand guard, with umbrella in hand, against hummingbirds and racing children.  

The call came as I was slipping on my non-athletic shoes.  One of the co-hostesses from the bridal shower was advising me that the cake had fallen and they had managed to catch it, but the tiers were stacked all around the table,  I assured her that I had tools to repair it and would return shortly.  The wedding hour was approaching and it was raining at son's house, only a short distance away.  The old song from the sixties, 

MacArthur Park, kept running through my mind...at least the line about someone leaving a cake out in the rain.  We hurried back through rain puddles along the road.  The heavy butter cream was sturdy, but not exactly waterproof.  Luckily Cheer A's mom had stood holding umbrellas over the cakes to protect them from the downpour.  What loving friends this bride has.  I was touched.  No matter how I adjusted the dowel supports on the cake and reset the center stakes, the cake, when assembled, sloped.  The table just would not stay level under the weight and I had no way to shore it up.  It was a little muddy by then so it may have been sinking into the mud. Plan B had to go into action.

We settled the bottom two tiers under a flower separator and stacked the centerpiece for the table on top, with the upper tiers displayed to the side.  It appeared momentarily stable and Cheer Mom continued her vigil.  It was about twenty minutes after the planned start of the wedding and Ol' Abner was urging me to come and sit.

Cheer Mom shows a little angle to me

We sat just as the bride's mother was being escorted to her seat.  Perfect timing!  The bride was absolutely gorgeous and her father's voice was breaking as he agreed to give her away.  He did offer a stern admonition to the groom before he offered his precious daughter to him! We laughed.

After the ceremony, photos were taken in a little meadow just beyond the seating area. We returned to the tables set up for the reception and I looked up to see the cake tilting again at a rather precarious angle. Cheer Mom beat me to the table and managed to catch the top two tiers as they toppled.  I grabbed food service gloves and manhandled them safely to the tabletop one more time.  At that point I decided the anniversary tier could be moved to it's box under the table to be frozen later in the evening. The eight inch tier became the top and the twelve and ten inch tiers served as the base.  The sixteen and fourteen inch sloping layers remained under the centerpiece. When it was time for the cutting of the cake, the able photographer provided lighting to make up for the sun already down.  The bride and groom offered up the ceremonial bite of cake to one another and the party began in ernest.  It was a joyful celebration for most.

I say "most", but the trauma few knew was for the mother of the bride. Minutes before the ceremony, she took a fall in her own house and had a terrible knot on her forehead.  Her hairstyle had to be rearranged to cover the forming bruise, no doubt to be a massive blackeye. She made the rounds diligently as the warm perfect hostess, but I know she was suffering through a nagging headache.  I was saddened that this much anticipated and planned event was ruined for her by the anger of the pain.

Knowing this, my dilemma of an ever-toppling cake seemed minor.  Did I mention that the mother of the bride had shared a story a few years ago of her wedding.  Her cake fell over!

Come September

I can remember hearing adults refer to things that would happen when the kids returned to school as "Come September".  My mother would say "come September we'll get together for our morning coffee", or my dad would tell a customer on the phone "come September I'll be in your area at least once a week".  I never quite understood the magical month when school resumed as a gateway for all those adult activities; until I became an adult.  Those days of pre-school month frenzy are a distant memory now for this old "adult", but I did finally understand how life entered a new cycle with the beginning of each school year.  In retirement, our lives are no longer tied to the school year. This year, we planned a spring trip to be completed before the end of school, but it was more a recognition of hot summer weather's approach than the deluge of kids loosed on humanity. I had many projects planned and our return from that spring trip was to be my gateway to busy times.  I had a number of sewing projects, a revision of the usage for two of our bedrooms, establishment of a consistent exercise routine, all in preparation for those cooler autumn days.  Several weekend excursions were planned and of course the usual preventive care visits with physicians, dentists and vision specialists would be completed before fall. Have I mentioned that I lost my summer.  Well at least my functional self was lost all summer.  A fractured leg and mangled toes will hamper mobility severely!  Ok, that's all history now and the reference to "come September" has arrived like a giant looming snowball. Three quilts must be completed before year's end, assistance with making a fourth one with an ambitious fellow for his mother. All those medical visits were postponed in lieu of more urgent foot repair, physical therapy and stretching conditioning practice. 

In March, I agreed to make my first wedding cake in roughly fifteen years..."come September"! Whaaaat was I thinking? I'm thinking now! This simple cake embellished with fresh flowers will consist of nine two-layer tiers, red velvet and white cake tiers.  The grooms cake (of course, we must have a groom's cake) will be chocolate cheesecake.  It will be an outdoor wedding, garden theme, since the weather will be cooler "come September".  It was 100 degrees in our little town today, the wedding is five days away.  The garden setting is smack in the middle of a hill-country working farm.  A lovely live-oak grotto will provide scant shade (if you know about live oaks, you understand) for the flower covered arched alter.  The dinner reception and dance will take place just behind the seating area where fairy lights will be strung around the perimeter.  I think it will be beautiful and I look forward to seeing this lovely girl marry the fun quirky young man that stole her heart. Preparation of the cake is NOT what concerns me, getting the beast to the venue (did I just call it a "beast"?) is my worry.  Hill country rural roads are steeply sloped and winding.  I no longer have my van with the level floor for transporting, nor do I own the array of boxing supplies and large sturdy plates that support a cake to feed 250 people.  I cannot stake the tiers together for travel and anticipate their arrival without a bit of lean or even side tilting.  The entire thing will need to be assembled with dowels and stakes on site.  Weather is predicted to be in the mid eighties...the same as the past weekend...we had two days in the high nineties, and it's going up.  I am meeting the florist prior to the service for set-up.  I gingerly expressed slight concern about flying things that might be attracted to a sugary confection sunning in open air.  I offered a canopy and some netting to put over it as protection, but no takers.  I pray that we don't find ourselves hosting a hummingbird convention...fresh colorful flowers and a huge mountain of sugary fluff...can anyone see where this could go?  Furthermore, I am a guest for this (dress code-semi formal) affair. Son's house is closer to the site than our home, so I will complete my task and then attempt to make my (probably sweaty) self presentable for the festivities.  Oh and there is that issue of my lame foot.  It is still inhospitable to a closed toe shoe, and I am sporting three toenails that look like they belong to the homeless lady under the bridge.  I would beg help from Dancing Girl, but "come September, she will be in her long planned meeting in Los Angeles. I am on my own, friends...to get this cake in place, make myself worthy of attending the fun times, then arrive on time.