A date with a FeatherweightΒ 

My day off dawned much the same as any other: too early and with a sweaty dachshund snuggled against my backside.  At least today I had no plans: no appointments, no errands, and no sick people mucking about.  I’d abandoned responsible adult chores in favor of spending quality time in my sewing corner.  Who needed clean tighty whities anyway?!

The weather outside had been typical for May in central Texas.  Humid, hazy, and windy.  The thermostat settled somewhere in the upper 80s with humidity at approximately melt-the-fat-from-your-thighs range.  Not that I’d mind thinner thighs.  It’s the boob sweat that’s a killer.  Sorry, TMI.  And now there are tornadoes threatening.  Good times.

I’d left my retreat boxes and bags on the floor where Himself and The Codefendants had plopped them Sunday afternoon and today was the day they’d have their contents disgorged and put away.  Retreat unpacking isn’t near as much fun as packing to go.  Anyway, I managed to get that done in record time, despite the efforts of aforementioned dachshund.


Please, no one pity this dog.  She’s spoiled beyond belief and lucky to be alive after biting me in the face on Tuesday.  

Lenny the Featherweight and I made a quick project I’d seen demonstrated at retreat, a pot holder.  Smaller versions were made into coasters.  And, yes, I was stalling.


Once the cleanup was done, I started another project because who doesn’t love seven thousand UFOs lounging about, amiright?

My favorite aunt had gifted me a bag of scraps and I freely admit they sat on a shelf for ages and, in full disclosure, I tried giving them away without success.  πŸ˜³. What to do with them?  In the words of my Granmommie, there were gobs and scads of them.  Like rabbits without the droppings or potential for tularemia.


There were several orphan blocks in the mix, too.  See…πŸ‘€.  I still haven’t figured out the lone light blue unit.


I love this swirly fabric.


I tried several blocks using her fabrics and some from my stash.  I won’t show you pictures as it’d be like pouring over photos of a really ugly baby and being compelled to lie that it was the cutest baby EVER.  Not that I’d know about such things.  Just know the blocks weren’t a good idea at all.  Kind of like being a woman of a certain age and not crossing your legs before sneezing.  

At least no one wet themselves.

So there I sat with really pretty swirly fabric that kinda reminded my of tooled leather and nary a clue of what to do.πŸ€”

And then it dawned on me.  Or I guess I should say it sat there staring me in the face.  (Personally, I think a lightbulb moment makes me seem smarter than one of the face-smacking variety.  I digress.)


My fabric winnings from retreat.  Forty-two Western fat quarters. Yippy-ki-yay!

In the end, I chucked my ugly baby blocks and churned out these.  Yee-haw, y’all!



Two thumbs up πŸ‘πŸ» and another thirty-eight fabrics from which to choose.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off for a shower and clean underpants in case we’re visited by a twister.  Heaven forbid I meet my Maker in ratty granny panties.

Happy quilting!

Anyone seen my brain?

So, I’ve been at retreat since Thursday and accomplished tons.  But that’s for a later post.   And before you ask why, it’s because I’m the mom and I said so.


Today, I’m working on yet another Bonnie Hunter pattern.  For someone who doesn’t like scrappy, I’ve seemingly leapt from the precipice of sanity with a rebel yell of ‘screw it, let’s do it!’ and ne’er a fair-thee-well.  Or maybe that’s frat boy.  πŸ€”.  Whatevs.

Idiot.

So, back in January when I had my lady bits yanked and was confined to home for six solid weeks (sounds fun in theory, but the reality is like being promised a night with Tom Selleck and getting PeeWee Herman.  I want to shower in bleach just thinking about it 😱).  

Where was I?

Oh, yes.  Post-surgical recovery.

So, here I was: a nifty abdominal incision, unable to lift anything more than my own substantial badonkadonk into and out of the recliner (because we’re idiots and bought a really tall bed I had no hope of clambering into for the foreseeable future); and a dachshund with questionable mental faculties, the temperament of a band of pillaging Vikings, and a penchant for nesting in my lap atop aforementioned incision and not moving.  Ever.  

Geez, I’m tired just writing all that.

Anyway, what I was, was bored.  My days and nights were flip-flopped and I’d be awake all night with Jessica Fletcher and an endless loop of infomercials.  I was *this* close to caving in and buying a Square Dance Pan, but that woman was annoying.  Like a lifetime of wearing granny panties and suddenly switching to butt floss aka thongs.  Annoying.  But I’m still not convinced I don’t NEED a Miracle Bamboo Cushion.  And my bodily neighbors to the north might really be on board with a Miracle Bamboo Bra.

Yet again, I digress.

Once I got myself straightened out timewise, I thought it’d be brilliant to cut out some quilts.  Never mind the fact I had pre-surgical time to do this.  Nope, pre-planning is for funerals.  Just saying.  Never mind that I was the lone passenger on the Narcotics Express and made a valiant attempt at wielding a rotary cutter whilst under the influence and scared the bejeebers out of myself.  But what I did have going for me, was my Accuquilt Studio.

Light.  Bulb.  πŸ’‘ 

Generally speaking, I’m fairly bright.  Unless you ask The Codefendants.  To them, all brain function ceased in 1999.  But still, I’m not dragging knuckles through the gravel and I manage to not disgrace myself by wearing pajamas to the Walmart, so, you know, there’s that.  Sigh.

I thought why not use this nifty device, sorry, I’m back to the Studio here (squirrel!) and cut out the roughly six million pieces in this quilt!  Woohoo.  So, I got down to bidness and proceeded to cut out the required 1 1/2″ strips I’d need.  And then it happened.  

The instructions clearly stated to cut 1 1/2″ squares.  And being a good citizen, I did.  

No questions.  

No qualms.  

Instructions say cut, I cut.

And before you say it, yes, I am well aware I could’ve strip pieced these.  The thought has occurred.


Someone hold me.

Comfort Cases

I recently came across a Facebook post about a charitable organization out of Maryland called Comfort Cases.  Comfort Cases was started by a couple of foster parents who were dismayed to see children toting their worldly possessions in trash bags.  Seeing a need, they stepped up and Comfort Cases was born.

What is a Comfort Case?  

It’s a backpack filled with a pair of pjs, toiletries, a small stuffed toy and a blanket.  No longer do these kids have to tote their belongings in a garbage sack.  

I gazed at my fabric stash and thought well, heck, I can sew a straight seam!  Full disclosure: I started out with just no-sew fleece blankets that I clipped around the edges, but I do so love the softness of flannel.  And so I spent an afternoon cutting out flannel (45×60 is the finished size that fits well in the backpack).  Y’all I haven’t even made a dent in the stash, but this is fun.  And for a good cause!




I thought about doing small quilts, but worried with batting, they’d be too bulky for the backpacks.  Even the fleece ones are a little iffy, but the flannel is perfect.

Today’s my day off and after lunch with The Diva (I was INVITED, y’all!) I’m back at my machine.


I finished this sweet one this morning between running errands and letting the dachshund in and out, and in and out.



Next up under the needle is some Curious George…love that little monkey!


We all have a talent.  Please consider finding something, be it local or national, where you can use your gift to brighten someone else’s day.

#nomoretrashbags

Help a quilter out!

Just saw this posted in a Facebook group and wanted to share it here.  


Let’s see if any of my awesome followers can help this lady get her granddaughter’ quilt back. The post speaks for itself.  Spread this far and wide, y’all!

Simple stitches

I can say with pride that I am waaay behind on En Provence and a Garden Party quilt along.  I have tops in need of quilting stacking up and I care not one whit.  My mantra has become ‘Nope, not today’.  

Three cheers for slackers!  Perhaps this means I’m finally beating my perfectionist side into submission.

That said, this week has been one of simple projects.

I’ll start with these fleece stadium blankets.


After freezing portions of my substantial badonkadonk off at The Diva’s interminable track meets (if they run THAT fast, why does the meet take so dang long?!) I decided Gramma and I needed a little cover.  These were easy.  I got three blankets out of seven yards of leopard print fleece.  Yes, they are generous.  That and the badonkadonk is big.  Ahem.  I broke out the Ginghers and ragged the edges.  Voila!

Never mind that there are only two meets left and the temperatures have now reached the 80s.  At least I’ll be prepared for next season, right?!

Next up was a quilt-as-you-go baby quilt.


Flannel top, flannel back.  It’s so snuggly!


I planned to bind the edges and then thought ‘Nope, not today’ and opted for the ragged edge instead.



Some people, i.e. the Quilt Police, will tell you the  Canons of Quilting state that the batting shouldn’t be visible.  To that I say pshaw!  Or something more colorful.  I’ll get back to you on that one.  A quilt should be however the heck you like it.  Tell the QP to take a flying leap.

Here, enjoy one more pic of fluffy-edged rag quilt porn.  You’re welcome.  Oh.  Em.  Gee!


And last, I made several burp cloths.  I haven’t wiped upchuck from my shoulder in an age, but I remember those tissue thin, useless store bought jobbies with contempt.  I used a micro-fiber towel for the back and flannel for the front.


The dachshund was completely unimpressed.


Easy peasy!  

What’re you working on today?

Our day in the big D

The Co-Defendants were on Spring Break this past week.  His Awesomeness spent it job hunting. The Diva spent it in bed with the flu.  Are my kids party animals or what?!

She awoke Saturday morning fever-free and chomping at the bit to get out of the house…anywhere.  It didn’t matter one whit where we went or what we did.

As luck would have it, this past weekend was the Dallas Quilt Show.  I offered it up as an option and she jumped on it.  You know your kid is desperate for a change of scenery when they typically equate the fun of attending a quilt show with animals chewing off a limb to get out of a steel trap.  But she agreed and our plan was set in motion.

Now, I’ve expressed my displeasure plenty of times about the sanity (or apparent lack thereof) of Dallas drivers.  There’s the incessant lane changing, like squirrels running amok amongst tree branches, the complete disregard for any posted speed limit, and the fact that all cars in the metroplex lack turn signals.  I will say, however, that they seem a rather tolerant lot, letting me exercise my own inner squirrel and lane change at will without honking and waving of the middle finger.

This is where The Diva wants to live when she grows up.  Sigh. 

After a fairly uneventful drive up i.e. no one died, we arrived at Dallas Market Hall.


We quickly ran into several friends and I even managed a picture with Miss Boston.  Thanks for the hug, Lori!


For The Diva, it’s all about the quilts and she quickly shuffled me up and down the rows of vendors so we could get to the meat of the matter.  But, but there’s shopping to be had!  She was on a mission.  Alas, no pictures because I didn’t get the accompanying info so I can’t give credit.  Sigh.

We made it about halfway through and she decided she was famished.  In a week, she’d dropped three pounds she didn’t need to lose to begin with.  We sat down to a 1/4lb Nathan’s hot dog.  Divine.  And how about the death ray glare (see pic below).

Throughout our day, The Diva kept the conversation running and no topic was off limits.  This is a change from the norm, because like me, she tends to be quiet and private.  I’ll wait while you finish snickering over that one.  The only thing I’m allowed to share is that she loves ‘old people’ (her term, not mine and yes, I fit into this category) and that they smell nice.  I’m not sure if this is weird or endearing…or both.  But, two thumbs up old folks, y’all smell great.  πŸ€·β€β™€οΈ 


After lunch we were back to the quilts and wound up having our picture taken in front of the selfie sign.


And yes, at twelve years old she’s taller than me.  πŸ˜­.  At least I’m taller than the dog, never you mind that she’s a dachshund.

We came to the end of the show and, as promised, I took her to the two-story Barnes and Noble I’d stumbled upon last fall.  Three cheers for books! πŸ“š 


After a quick snack, we were on the road and headed for the hacienda.  But not so fast!  Dallas weather had other ideas and it took for-ev-er to get out of town.  And no, I didn’t take this while driving.


Interestingly enough, the usually pedal to the metal drivers slowed down to a snail’s pace, sometimes coming to a complete stop.  I kept waiting to become someone’s hood ornament.   Yikes!  Three hours later, we made it home.

For being rushed through the shopping portion of the show, I’d say I made a pretty good haul.


I got a non-skid pad for Lenny the Featherweight’s foot pedal from Woodturnings by Tim.  The Diva and I scored some yummy smelling soaps and an Everything Balm (good for anything that ails ya) from Goodies Unlimited in Guthrie, Oklahoma.  Some Laurel Burch socks and sewing themed bandages rounded out the early purchases.

I snatched up a quilt kit because of all the low volume neutrals it had that my stash is currently lacking.  I bought several patterns, all different in style and some completely outside of my box.  Can you say ‘appliquΓ©’?  Gulp.

I also picked up two mini wool kits to work on at an upcoming beach retreat in September.  Hey, I’m thinking ahead here!

The Diva proclaimed she had the best time being with old Mom and I have to say time alone with her was fantastic.

Until next time.

Back at it

To work, that is.  I started back to my regular 4am schedule on Thursday after being off for six weeks and can honestly say that I thought two days of work was going to kill me.  It may yet.

To use a family phrase, “I’m so t-a-r-d tired, that I could f-a-r-t faint”. πŸ’¨

Don’t ask.  Just go with it.

While I was out, I did eventually sit down and accomplish a few things on the sewing front.  A word of caution: do not wield a rotary cutter while under the influence of narcotics.  It’s a miracle I still have all my digits. πŸ™ŒπŸ»

Thankfully I have a handy dandy Accuquilt Studio to do a lot of the cutting now.  Of course, there are still blades to contend with, but there’s at least a modicum of foam covering them up.

I cut out four rag quilts, two of which are finished.  Do I have pictures?  Nope.  πŸ™„

I also cut out two Bonnie Hunter quilts, Garden Party and Crabapples.

The picture below constitutes the beginnings of Garden Party.  I already had a ton of Kaffe Fassett fabrics cut into the correct sizes and it would’ve been tons quicker to use them, but did I?  Obviously not.  Why make things easier, amiright?!

Lordy, but I do so love polka dots!  And I have a ton of them.  Logic said if I used up a bunch of them, I’d clear some shelf space.  I started with two and a half stacks of polka dots.  Post cutting, guess what, I still have two and a half stacks of polka dots…and another box of 1 1/2″ strips.  Yikes!  Fabric’s a lot like bunnies…quite proliferative.


Little units coming together…


And help from the dachshund.


Funny how all these little pieces didn’t take long to put together.


Until I eventually had blocks.  Boom πŸ’₯   Audiobooks πŸ“š make sewing go so much faster than watching πŸ“Ί.  Love me some Sue Grafton and Earlene Fowler! 


I’m still working on the nine patch units blocks, but I’m getting there.  The orange 🍊 makes my heart ❀️ go pitty pat.


And more help from Ziva.  Downward dog, anyone?


Then there’s the Crabapples fabric.  Look at all those 1 1/2″ squares!  πŸ‘€.  This one’s all cut out and ready to go.  


I’ve also made progress on En Provence.  With a bit of aggravation thrown in.  What is quilting, after all, but equal parts pleasure and pain?


I laid each block out on my design wall to make sure I got everything oriented correctly and discovered to my dismay that I hadn’t, despite counting and recounting, pieced enough units to make sixteen of these blocks.  There may have been some salty language bandied to and fro.  

Mostly fro, but some to as well.  

Do I go back, cut more fabric and piece the needed units?  No!, my inner toddler whined and no it shall stay.  I made a make-do block from the leftover units and a couple of solid squares.  Life sallies forth and so shall I.  I’ll post a picture when the flimsy is complete.

I also still have quite a bit of work left on Double Delight, but I took one look at it all and decided nope, not today.  For six solid weeks.  Sue me.  One day it will be done!

Toward the end of my leave, my quilting friend Deb of the blog, My Quilty World, came down my way for a retreat.  As I was feeling a bit down, I asked if I could pop in and get a dose of red-headed sunshine.  She said yes and I got a much-needed Deb hug and smile.  Thanks, Deb!  Love you bunches πŸ’

I also got this…

Photo credit: Deb Singer-Hayter of My Quilty World 

Ignore the fact that I look like a nincompoop, but holy smokes, it’s Bonnie in the flesh!!!

πŸ˜€πŸ˜ƒπŸ˜„πŸ˜πŸ˜†πŸ˜€πŸ˜ƒπŸ˜„πŸ˜πŸ˜†πŸ˜€πŸ˜ƒπŸ˜„πŸ˜πŸ˜†πŸ˜€πŸ˜ƒ

Earlier that same week, my mom and I got to watch The Diva participate in her first track meet.


Why, yes, I will be one of those obnoxious sports parents, yelling and carrying on. Too much fun!


Her events are the 1600 and the 2400.  The bottom photo was the 1600 where they combined boys and girls.  So proud of her.

Well, I think I’ve packed enough into the post.  

Until next time, its nap time 😴 .

What a (post-surgical) girl wants

So, I’m twelve days post-hysterectomy and having all kinds of fun. πŸ™„πŸ€’β˜ΉοΈ

My doctor told me I’d be hospitalized 48 hours.  I said 24.  Working in a hospital means I want to spend as little time there as a patient as humanly possible.  As luck would have it, my doc was easy to please and all it took to get me sprung was a little crop dusting of the hallways and *boom* I got to go home.  Yay me.

I prepared for surgery by cutting out a few small projects I could work on during my recovery. I certainly wasn’t going to waste any time by cleaning the house!  Haha, the joke’s on me because there’s been just enough energy to get from the bed to the recliner and back again.  Sigh.  I so miss Lenny the Featherweight.  

My mom, bless her, sprung me one day and we and our friend, Marilyn, made a trip to Simply Fabrics.  Hallelujah for a change of scenery!

I did get the yellow squares cut out for En Provence.  Isn’t this the most gorgeous fabric?!  And yes, I know it isn’t all yellow, but it just went so well with my other fabrics.  As a side note, I don’t recommend wielding a rotary cutter while on pain killers.  Not my smartest move and, yes, I still have all my digits.


Prior to surgery, I had horrible thoughts of dying and leaving my family behind.  Who’d be around to nag them?  And I made Himself promise and swear to find a woman who was good as gold to the kids.  Not to mention my fabric stash. Can you believe I made arrangements for its dispersal in the event? Yep, I did. Now I’m worried I’ll die of boredom and wind up on an episode of Hoarders.  Welcome to how my mind works.

I’ve done a little handwork.  It’s been ages since I’ve cross stitched.  When did manufacturers start making those charts so stinking small?!

The dachshund and I have become a dynamic duo of sorts.  She’s my mammalian hot water bottle and my midnight TV watching buddy.  


We have a routine, we two.  Daytime viewing is Matlock, Columbo, and Law and Order: Criminal Intent.  Nighttime is Murder, She Wrote and whatever happens to be on the Hallmark movie channel.  All of which are punctuated by those ‘as seen on TV’ commercials.  Not to mention the weight loss ads.  I’ve never been so sick of seeing Marie Osmond and Oprah in my life.  By all means, just eat a damn chip already!!  And then there’s the ‘miracle water’ some TV preacher is hawking.  He looks like a constipated car salesman.  This isn’t your calling, darling; go find something else to do.  I am, however, on the verge of buying the red copper square dance pan and miracle bamboo cushion.  I could sit on my bum while dinner burns to a crisp in my new non-stick pan.  Woohoo!  And don’t get me started on commercials narrated by folks with accents.  I’m all set to buy a lifetime supply of Tena pads just because of the British accent.  Yeah, I’m that easy.  Or drugged.  Sad.

All in all, it’s not been too bad.  Except for the exhaustion and the stomach virus I’ve been hosting for two days.  Yay. 🀒.  Fingers crossed I can actually sit at my machine again sometime soon.  

Happy quilting!

A Word of Thanks…I Think

Dear Similac,

Hahahahahaha, you delightfully quirky folks!  What is there to say other than ‘thank you’ for enrolling me in your Smart Moms program and gifting me with my very own membership card?  Does it come with a coupon for at least one child-free pee for me per week?  Yeah, I thought not.  

Someone in that program has an epically awesome sense of humor, especially at a time like this.  I love people with a sense of humor.  Beats trying to make jovial with folks who believe tree branches are for carting about in their nether regions

I digress.

But seriously, last week’s mailbox offering of aforementioned card and breathless recitation of everything I have to look forward to was plenty for moi.  You see, I’ve been there, done that twice.  Well, I’ve done it more than that, but you know, two kids.  Anyway, the youngest is twelve and I’ve no intention of birthing any more mini-mes.  I have the stretch marks, sagging rack and bladder that cannot/will not make it on a round of errands without visiting at least one public toilet.  I’m good.  Really.

Cue today’s mailbox offering.  Someone, somewhere is laughing.  Hard.  I hope they pee themselves or at least blow soda out their nostrils, because really?!


Next Thursday, I’m finally getting what I’ve always wanted.  No, not Tom Selleck, dammit.

Yes, it’s a hysterectomy!  Score!  I win!  

So you see, I do not need your infant formula.  I don’t want to know about fussy eaters, gas (newsflash: I need help with the husband and the dog on this one), or colic.  I don’t want tips on finding me time, getting plenty of rest, or a cure for cracked nipples.  Seriously, I’m good.

In lieu of formula, please send any and all manner of liquor and chocolates from which I may partake while I’m laid up.  Thank you in advance for this splendiforous act of corporate generosity.

Yours truly,

The Mrs.