Odds and ends

Bear with me on this first odd. I've gained ten pounds. It could be the mocha or the ice cream or the thyroid, or all three, or one or two. I was pretty scrawny a year ago, after the pacemaker episode and the hole in my lung and the norovirus. The pacemaker doctor asked me to get back to 120, and I did all that by last April or so, and then paid no further attention.

Until this past week, when I realized it's getting warmer outside and soon I will ditch my elastic waist corduroys for jeans. I have not worn elastic waist trousers since childhood, and they may have seen the last winter! I put on a pair of jeans this week and faced zipping up like a teenager, flat on the bed and stomach sucked in. I got it done

But I see that heart doctor in a month or so, for the annual check up, and it would behoove me to present better. In short, a diet that does not include mocha and ice cream, for starters. It could also revert to my sister's lovely oatmeal muffins for lunch. Somehow we lost track of them this past year.

My sister just got a new kitchen. She and Tom bought a little house three or four years ago. It all worked for her except the kitchen, which had that crazy, post World War II housing type of little kitchen. She's pretty good at laying out kitchens, having done it twice at the old house. She knows what she wants, and she got it!

Small kitchen, lots of function. And more important, a new stove with oven to make oatmeal muffins.

One day last week Jan stopped to deliver a batch of muffins and catch up on gossip. And get her kitchen warming present.

I had some left overs to finish up for lunch, so it was today before I got to the new oatmeal muffins. And, oh dear, they were dryer than a bone. I manfully worked through the one I took, thinking "How can I tell her her new oven really needs calibrated. Or fixed!" I called her this afternoon, and tactfully, I hope, broached the subject.

And when I got done, Jan said "Well, that explains why I still have buttermilk left in the fridge! I forgot to add it." So, I need to lose ten pounds and hope I have a start on it.

I have been remiss about weaving this week. Each day was less productive than the previous, to the point of my doing exactly nothing yesterday. Nada. Zero. Zilch. I did get out of bed this morning feeling remorseful as well as guilty.

Fortunately, I encountered Betty and Margaret at breakfast. They are pleasant women. Betty is my table mate who I helped with her new hearing aids. And both are Tea Party, proving strange table mates can come to a truce and get along. The best part of seeing Betty so early was needing a scarf model and there she was, again.

We posed in front of the pool, in the atrium. Several women were in the pool, in the midst of their weekly exercise lesson. For the first time I am strongly tempted to join them. Eighty degree salt water sounds very tempting. I'd even buy a bathing suit.

My remarkable week

The week is remarkable only because I am making remarks upon it. It is Sunday, the last day or the first, depending on point of view. As irritating as I find that hashtag, POV, it was relevant there. So far today I've had breakfast (a poached egg on an English muffin). learned both the Guardians and the Cavs won yesterday and started my laundry.

Yesterday, Saturday, was interesting. As the morning progressed, I grew colder and colder. Eventually I checked the thermostat and found it blank. I opened the little door and saw two triple A batteries. Bonanza, I knew I had some (of indeterminate age). 

I fiddled with the two batteries in the thermostat and managed to light up the screen once to find it had defaulted to "Off". The room temp read 64, and when I pushed the temp button, it began at 52. I got it up to "my" setting, 72. On the way up, the heater came on.

My replacement batteries did not work, of course. I called the front desk, and began explaining the problem to Cathy, a lovely woman but not the best in analytics. I explained why I needed two new batteries. "I'll bring them right up and put it on your statement." I explained why I preferred not to pay. 

"Ooooohhhhhh................." Long intermission while she explained to a bystander why there was no work order for Monday, and she was taking up "stock", not "maintenance." Fast forwarding to the conclusion, within an hour or ninety minutes, I had reliable heat again.

I've been weaving. My first "maze" attempt was laughable, so I pulled it out and began threading up a new pattern. The threads feeding into the heddles now are a tangled mess, but the warp is dwindling down, so I'll go back and comb them occasionally.

So, I threaded this maze, and wove essentially one complete diamond. This pattern is fascinating. not what I was expecting In this drawdown I see all the escape paths. On the fabric I see expanding pools, like a stone in a pond. I think I need a heavier weft to approximate the drawdown, but I don't have it, so pools it is.

And finally, I took Rose for a haircut. So much excitement at the old folks home! We were an hour early, because I was trapped by digital time. Laura should have been here to laugh at me. The appointment was 1:45, but in spite of Rose's best effort, I could not get my "quarter of's" straight. 

Since I was the ride and Rose wanted her hair cut, she played along., right up to not laughing or saying "I told you!" when we pulled in and I suddenly grasped the error. When Rose made her next appointment, I insisted it be a whole number. Next haircut for Rose is May 31st, at 1:00 pm.

My week in review

In reverse, yesterday I had a visit from Ann. She came for lunch yesterday and left just before supper. In four or five hours we discussed all the problems of the world, as well as our own. We solved none. We have not seen each other except for an on the fly visit immediately pre-pandemic. Yesterday was a wonderful time.

Toward the end of the week I visited the quilt show at Lake Farmpark. I took Jane, a quilting friend who lives a few doors down, and we met Ruth, who needs no introduction. Or, as I explained to Jane, "We are the world's most fortunate mothers-in-law."

Ruth and I have visited this annual show many times in the past, but the last time was also just before the Covid lock down. In fact, there may have been no show this past two or three years. Ruth arrived a few minutes before Jane and I, and met us at the door. "Joanne, we have never seen anything like this." Indeed, we hadn't.

The next is a vintage, hand appliqued and hand quilted entry. I can visualize it gracing a child's bed for many years. It certainly could have been on my childhood bed. Following it is a picture of the description given it by the person who entered it.

Ruth and I always have a little competition. We compare notes at the end of seeing the show and see which one we would pick "to take home." This year I picked the following, a small wall hanging. I could be very happy looking at these little birds all day.

There were close to two hundred quilts entered. I've missed one or two of the photos I took. I like clean looking quilts, and see I generally took pictures of very busy quilts. My sister quilted several quilts I took notice of, and one of the ones she quilted was so dark I wondered how she could see the work to quilt it. Can't find that picture.

And finally, because it probably was the last in my lifetime, The Eclipse!

We had an absolutely stunning day to view a total eclipse! It was warm, the breeze was light, and the chairs comfy. 

True Confessions

Where have I been? Under a rock! What have I done? Laid on my back, stretched out my arms. Wiggled my toes and ankles. I actually had a dream about doing that; lying in something warm and encompassing, wiggling all of myself, settling in. Then I guess I woke up. 

In the midst of housekeeping last Tuesday, I rashly asked Diana to fold up the top quilt, put it in the basket and stow it on the shelf. And now spring has fled. It even snowed yesterday. Temps are in the forties, day and night. Blah. Plus chilly, but I can't reach the shelf, and spreading out the quilt is too much. 

The parking lot trees are blushing. This redbud hasn't long to go. I showed the picture to Rose, and her first comment was "No cars!" Right she is. That is busy state highway 43 out there, and I watched cars going left and right for some time before I tapped the shutter. There are cars out of frame, left and right.

Weaving has occurred possibly half an hour some days. I'm tired of Whig Rose, and ready to rethread for a maze type pattern. I have several in mind, but I think I'll select one that has an escape route. But there are so many others. And here is one other, not a maze, but enticing. I'll put it in the que.

It needs to visually sparkle, but how to make it do so. That is my conundrum. And in the meantime, I shuffle along.

Beth and Ruth came for my birthday last week, carrying a very heavy shopping bag. After some brief preliminaries, Ruth flung open my freezer door and began inserting pints of ice cream. Seven, to be exact. I've thrown away two empties, so far.

Last Wednesday, in the middle of yoga class, my phone rang. I grabbed my shoes and hurried out to talk to Ruth. She wanted me to know, with apologies, I would find one of the cartons half gone.

While we were at it, we arranged for next Thursday to go to Lake Farm Park for the quilt show. We've gone often in the last many years. In the beginning I walked, then a cane, then two. Now I use a walker, unabashedly. People often hold open a door for me. If they cut me off, well, their mother did a poor job of raising them!