Another Lap Quilt Finished

This quilt, called "Rose Bouquets" was an impulse and an experiment. I found the fabric with roses and other flowers on a brownish maroon background as a sizable remnant. It has a lovely feel, either a very good quilting cotton or maybe a dress fabric with some polyester in it. It is somewhat silky, not sleezy. I enjoyed working with it.

Sometimes when I found something that just catches my eye I want to use it NOW. In this case I had seen an article somewhere about a kind of "stack and whack" with four 90 degree triangles put together as these are here. How simply can that be! And how interesting would it be with these roses? My color-pattern "eye" is not that of a well trained artist. I keep learning but I think I will never have a true artist's ability to predict how colors will work. In this case the contrasts within the fabric now seem not to have been strong enough for a zinger of visual impact when rearranged. That was a disappointment. Not that I find it ugly, just less interesting than I'd hoped.

I dug through my stash wondering what to use as stripping and, obviously, decided upon this strip, which has a feel very similar to the other fabric, It's a strong contract, and I'd call it okay but something else might have been better but I didn't have that something else and wasn't going to go shopping for it. So here is the finished quilt. Graded maybe C+, okay. I know someone I will give it to at Christmas time, thus the impulse has taught me a bit and, I think, will be welcomed by the giftee.

About feasting, briefly

Upon moving out of NYC I was afraid I'd never have really good bread again. Not so -- we had two of the most beautiful breads I've ever seen and really shouldn't have eaten yesterday at the beginning of dinner to accompany the cheddar-broccoli soup which was my contribution to the day's goodies. The white bread was from Paneras [a chain]; I am not sure if the multigrain was also theirs or from elsewhere. I must say I regularly have excellent breads here and even quite good bagels.

To put last things first here is, for this dessert lover the piece de resistance, Alison's pumpkin-peacan cheesecake. Even the picture says calorie overload, and I loved every calorie of my piece.

There was a plentitude of veggies, roasted as well as mashed potatoes. We did not go the yam casserole route, nor even the cliche green bean casserole. The stuffing was wonderful -- I LOVE tasty carbs of all sorts. I grabbed this photo of the turkey after the doneness test of twisting a leg had been successfully carried out -- ruins the perfection of shape but bespoke perfection of taste -- seconds before the carving knife struck.
It was perfectly chosen for the size of our group, which included only one vegetarian. Only enough was left for a pot of turkey soup which I imagine is simmering away at this very moment. And so ends another holiday -- and I didn't even mention the warm apple crisp with vanilla ice cream ... THAT I should not have eaten. But I did and I still feel full 18 hours later.

It's raining very seriously today so I can't go walk off any of the poundage and, for sure, I'm staying out of the craziness at the maul -- er, I mean mall. It's a great day for some happy quilting.

Mad Dogs and an Englishwoman, Polly Adams

My idea of a fun read is an intelligently written book by an intrepid woman adventuring someplace that sounds fascination but is, for one reason or another, better experienced vicariously than in reality. That exactly explains Polly Adams' Mad Dogs and an Englishwoman. She went to the Yukon in January! And spent two months at a sled dog owner's establishing -- except when she was following the Yukon Quest race or going off on side jaunts -- like driving along over the frozen Berring Sea to an Inuit village.

Her writing is so full of enthusiasm for the dogs, in particular, and the place with it's gold rush history and hearty, friendly people that I almost wanted to do the trip -- except for all those times when it was about -40 degrees -- some of those times were nights spent in tents. I have always admired and envied the intrepid Englishwomen [mostly they ARE English] who write of adventuring for the sake of it. It seems Polly Adams has done somewhat similar books about traveling in Argentina, Portugal, New Zealand, China and others. This was my first acquaintance with her, I doubt it will be the last. I learned history I did not know and fell in love with the dogs that she so obviously loved. I almost understand the tourists who showed up in that dark and frigid part of the world at that time of year.

Cloudy Days

Last week was mostly beautiful, sunny days, a last gasp, perhaps, of autumn before winter breathes it's chilly breath down our coat collars. I was told about a woman called Beckra who publishes a blog called (y)oursky.blogspot.com -- I give you this address instead of just a link, because I have bad luck publishing links. I sent her some sky photos and she sent me the following wonderful haiko by Basho (translated by B.L. Einband) which is worth memorizing:

Clouds now and again
give a soul some respite from
moon-gazing -- behold.

Finished at last!

This was a UFO for two extended periods. A part of me likes it, a part of me hates it. I'm SOOOOO happy to have finished it. I will not go into any of the sordid details, but this quilt is an example of all my worst quilting traits, which rarely accumulate all in one quilt, but this time they did. I am totally ashamed of my workmanship and general all around sloppiness in the rush to get the thing done. I promise one and all that I would never treat a sensate being, not even a tree or dandelion in the yard as badly as I have treated this quilt. I am going to give it to some charity although I consider that almost morally reprehensible because needy people do not deserve to have our mistakes dumped on them. And yet, it is a warm cover, the pattern may delight some eyes, probably childish ones. I am not signing the quilt in any way. And I won't -- I swear -- do this sort of rush job again, even to get a UFO out of my sight, out of my house.

The sun is going south

Moving into an apartment where I could watch the sunrises -- from an apartment where a recently erected 23 story building ate all my sky view -- was wonderful. I am a morning person, I usually see the sunrise. This morning I was awake a little before 5:00 and out of bed not long after 5:00. My breakfast table gives me a view of the sunrise. In the six months I've watched it move south, over different sets of tree tops. It has only one more month to keep going south and then it will, slowly and imperceptibly at first, begin moving north again. Right now there are lemony patches of sunlight on my walls so the light fills the room both from the windows and from it's glow on the walls. Such a lovely way to start the day. I know many people sleep through sunrises. Perhaps our largely urban life has deprived us of what I imagine was a childhood training to be up early. Farm life is ingrained in my habits and I felt deprived of a natural right when that building went up; I immediately began dreaming of moving.

I do not see the sunsets. The building is oriented so that no one's apartment has both views. Ideally I would have sunrises beyond a breakfast room window and sunsets beyong a living room, or sun porch window. But then ideals are few and far between and I'm very happy with this beautiful morning. I think I awoke so early because there are several things I hope to do today and now that I've checked my email after breakfast, I'm ready to plunge into the rest of the day.

Old Dogs, new tricks

The more I try to learn about using my Mac the more I know I don't know. The last couple of weeks I've sat through very intelligent and accessible lectures about how to use different aspects of my Mac -- I've been using a Mac for 4 or 5 years now and listened to a LOT of lectures. You'd think I'd be getting it. I expected I'd be getting it.

Not so, what is supposed to be SO intuitive that a five year old can manipulate a Mac is just not sinking in. A friend asked me to scan something for her. "No prob, "said I, I've scanned a number of things. Ha! It took at least 15 minutes to go to screen after screen and get the thing scanned -- twice as it turned out. So frustrating, really no understanding the of screen prompt. Feeling like Pooh, "a bear of very little brain". Finally stumbling on the answer and achieving the desired end.

This is not a language that makes sense to me! I am a words on a paper page person and then I am not always good at following directions [especially if they were written by Asian person about how to put together a bookcase or cabinet. It tends to destroy a life time of self-confidence, a belief that, indeed, I was intelligent enough to figure out most logical instructionss. But nothing has yet convinced me computer-eze is logical. And, contrary to the opinion of many who are under 25 years of age, it is NOT FUN. Waltzing around the room to Johann Strauss music is fun, playing Pictionary is fun, riding a bicycle is fun -- computers are not fun. Necessary, yes, in this day and age, but fun? Not. Somd tricks just don't make a lot of sense to old dogs and they refuse to learn.