There is nothing like an Arkansas autumn

I have always enjoyed going for a ride in the country, but since we moved to the Natural State, it has taken on a whole new meaning.

Springtime used to be my favorite time of the year, but now, I'm not so sure. Not too much can compare to the beauty of Arkansas in the Fall.

Family garage sale bonds siblings

Family garage sale bonds siblings

Last weekend, we had a garage sale. That's me in the background, overseeing the 'stuff' in our garage.

It was an extravaganza, but not just because of the usual garage sale activity, but because my husband's two sisters joined us. Betty lives right around the corner from us. Thank goodness, because she and her husband John brought lots of goodies to sell, not to mention their own tables and even a crock pot filled with sloppy joes to eat.

Jean lives in Indiana. She packed up a rental car and drove some 600 miles just to partake.

Family garage sales have always been a good time for us. Not only do we get rid of extra 'stuff' around the house, often times to one another, but we get to visit with each other and socialize with those who come to visit. And, we even made a few bucks.

This weekend was no exception. It was really fun to get together. It had been quite some time since we were all together in one place. In fact, it was during our last family garage sale, several years ago. Only that time, brother Steve was also here. We missed him this time.

I recall the first time we did this. It was just after we lost my mother-in-law, one of the saddest days I've ever known in my life. Betty and Jean lost their mom, and it was a stressful time for all of us. I adored my mother-in-law and felt her loss almost as deeply as they did.

Dividing a household can be a time of great stress. It has also been known to cause bickering among siblings as mementos and precious items are divided among those who are left. That didn't happen with us. Mom was so organized. She wrote the names on the backs of pictures, for instance, that she wanted each of her children to have. She knew who cared about what because she paid such close attention to those details. She listened when we talked. She pretty much got it right too. We knew how hard it would be to sell those pieces of her life that meant so much to us. There were no fights among us--no animosity, jealousy, or pettiness. We pretty much agreed on everything. There were plenty of tears along the way, but the three of us girls along with our husbands, all named John, by the way, made the most of a bad situation. We had a pajama party of sorts at Mom's house for the last time, as we priced items long into the night.

I'll never forget how hard it was to watch someone carry away the dining room table that had held so many happy family memories. It was indeed hard. But we tried to make the most of it. We convinced ourselves that a new family would make their own family memories, just as we had. We ended up laughing about one thing or another as the memories kept us going.

I think that experience, which was overall a positive one cemented our friendships and strengthened the bonds of our family ties. I suspect that is why we enjoy our family garage sales so much.

It is always good to whittle away the excesses. There is no pain associated with it now. There is only joy; joy at being together, not to mention the joy of cleaning out the clutter.

It was an exhausting weekend, but one I wouldn't trade for anything.

Rest in peace Andy

I've just learned that Andy Williams has died, after losing his battle with bladder cancer. Like so many people who hear this news, my heart is broken. I feel like I have lost a beloved family member.

My love of Andy Williams goes back to when I was 14 years old. That is now 55 years of adoration.

I was fortunate to get to meet him in person--to pose for a picture with him. I even wrote about about the encounter. It was at a book signing when Andy released his long-awaited memoir, "Moon River and Me." I wrote about that too, and how I savored every word. His book was a treasure trove of memories, but not just for him; but for me too. I remember so many things about his life. I read everything I could about him.

Just recently, I was looking through an old box of photos when I came across two ticket stubs--from one of Andy's performances. It was a cold, snowy winter day when my husband, John, of 35 years, took me to see Andy at Chicago's McCormick Place. I have long said I simply had to marry a man who would take me to see Andy Williams.

Old Yeller is done!

After eight months of quilting, I have finally finished my quilt, which I have affectionately call "Old Yeller." 

I designed it on computer software and then had to choose scads of yellow fabric. Then I dutifully cut all the many pieces and sewed the entire quilt top together. That was last February. Since then I have been hand-quilting a simple design.

It was joyous to take that last stitch. I put it into the washer and on the delicate cycle proceeded to wash it. Not only does washing clean it after all that handling, mine and our four cats, but it also completes what I like to call the puff factor. Once it came out of the dryer, I immediately put it on my bed. 

Some of the detail can be seen at the closest edge. It is bound with the polka dot fabric. 

I actually designed this quilt around that polka dot fabric. I have always had a thing for dots. I once covered the walls of my bedroom, when I still lived at my parents' house, with lavender paisley contact paper. I thought the different sized dots would stick, but when they didn't, I used glue. That didn't work really well for my father who after I moved out tried to remove them. He had to have the wall re-plastered. From what I can remember, he wasn't too happy about it either. 

I admit that I feel a little empty now, not having a quilt lying around to be worked on while I watch TV at night. I'm anxious to start a new project. And I think I just might have something in mind. So, I can't wait to get started.

Bill Clinton; moving

President Bill Clinton, President of the United States. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I am proud to be living in the state that produced Bill Clinton. He is one of the reasons I'm here.

I have never gotten the privilege of meeting Bill Clinton, but I came pretty close once. It was 1992 when he he was running for President. Al Gore was his running mate. I was a part time correspondent for a daily newspaper at the time--a Republican leaning one.

I was new to politics then, but was learning quickly. In my off hours, I was also an activist, fighting against the State of Illinois' efforts to build a new airport close to the tiny town where I lived.

When I heard that Bill Clinton and Al Gore were coming to Chicago, I made up my mind that I wanted to go. My friend Michelle, who was also my anti-airport partner joined me. When we got downtown, we had never seen so many people. We walked toward a raised platform surmising that it was the place they would stand. We got closer to see the area was cordoned off. Suddenly, we were stopped by a big, burly Chicago cop. I quickly shoved my camera case at Michelle and said, "here, take this."

The cop asked for credentials. I told him I was with the press. I didn't have special credentials. I had only a press pass issued by Will County, but I showed it to him. If I remember correctly, we had to do a little fast talking too. We were like two giddy school girls about to meet the high school football jock. No one was more surprised than as that he grinned and gave me a nod. He looked at Michelle and asked about her. I said she was with me--she's my camera man. He let us in.

We walked to the front of makeshift stage. where we laughed at the encounter and our own brazenness. It wasn't a lie. I had planned to cover the event, take notes, write a story and submit photos to the paper. We really had every right to be there. We waited a very long time until finally, we saw a bus in the distance. Out stepped Bill and Hillary, Al and Tipper Gore, former Sen. Carol Mosely-Braun, then Mayor Richard M. Daley, as well as singer Michael Bolton who was traveling with them.

The crowd was electric. They each delivered a short speech. We were close enough that we could have touched him.

When it was all over, the crowd began to disperse. There were so many people pushing and shoving; that at times, I no longer stood on my own two feet. I was levitated by the crowd. I am short--only 5'-1" tall. Everyone around me was taller. I almost felt helpless. It really was pretty scary. I vowed I would never put myself in a situation like that again. Yet, I was really glad I did it this time.

When I got back to the paper, I submitted film. I wrote a story, which did not interest them. I really had to talk fast to get them to print a picture with a caption at least. I told them this man was going to be the next President of the United States and they were really lucky that I had his picture for them. They may have just been pulling my leg, because the picture appeared the following day.

I had one more near Bill Clinton experience--in 1996 when he was running for a second term. The venue was outdoors at the Homewood/Floosmoor High School football field. A friend of mine who was working for the local Democrats got tickets and asked if I'd like to go with him to see Clinton. I was thrilled. We watched as the helicopters flew overhead. I recall Clinton talking about building a bridge to the 21st century. He stood before posters and graphics illustrating that bridge. I was star struck; I still am.

When my husband and I came to Arkansas on vacation, it was during the time that Clinton was being impeached. We stayed at a resort, but we didn't have much fun. I refused to leave the television set at the cabin. I was riveted as I watched what I thought was a terrible injustice to my President.

Finally when my husband retired, he was already certain he wanted to live in the Ozarks. We were looking for a place to move. We had really considered moving to Missouri. It seemed as though it was a little cheaper to live there. We looked for houses in both states. One night I told my husband that I didn't want to look in Missouri anymore. I really wanted to live in Arkansas because it was the state that produced Bill Clinton. We moved here in 2005 and never looked back.

Hearing Bill Clinton at the Democratic National Convention last night was just like déjà vu for me. I felt the same exhilaration that I had felt during his campaigns and while he spoke from the White House. The happiest political moment was the day he was inaugurated. Michelle came to my house and we watched together. Both of us sat in silence, hanging on every word, a box of kleenex between us.

I have always been a fan of Bill Clinton's. There was just something about him. He is quick-witted, smart, and ambitious, not to mention easy on the eyes. He has the ability to hold millions of people in the palm of his hand when he speaks. Yet while he talks plain and has an unassuming demeanor, his mind is sharp as a tack. There is no one like Bill Clinton and there never will be. Who knows, perhaps one day I will even get to meet him? That would be such an honor.

Drought is taking its toll at our house

The Arkansas Ozarks remains the darkest red color on the map, which illustrates our exceptional drought. Moisture is about a foot less than where it should be at this time of year. That is frightening since we don't get all that much rain in the summertime anyway.

We have had to water to keep things going. I've managed to save  tomato and pepper plants; they continue to produce, for which I'm very grateful. I've planted some new seeds for a fall crop of beans, cucumbers, cilantro, arugula, Swiss Chard, lettuce, radishes, and some other things. They are starting to sprout now, so watering remains essential.

The understory of the woods is coming back, due to a recent quarter-inch of rainfall. It is amazing what that small amount of rain can do to help what some people call weeds. To me, the only "weed" we have is the Bermuda grass that invades everything and is nearly impossible to pull out of where it doesn't belong.

Everything else, to me, is a wildflower or wild vine--but that's just me.

The local deer population has made it a habit to feed wherever they can during this dry spell. Here, a doe drinks from our rain barrel. It sits next to a garden where she has helped herself all summer. 

Watering the flowers was a mixed bag. I worked hard to keep my flowers alive, but they represented the only greenery around. So, I could hardly be upset Mama Deer eating them when that was the only food she could find. The result is that I have no flowers left, but the deer are happy.

The same is true for these cute little fawn siblings. They actually make a daily trek to our front porch-literally onto the front porch to do their grocery shopping. 

I am starting to wonder if they want to come inside to watch a little TV or play a board game with our cats. 

Even though the weather is improving a little, meaning it isn't over 100º anymore, it remains very hot and dry. We have had less than one inch of rain since last May with the most being a half inch. 

Hurricane Isaac is due to visit the Ozarks in a couple days, bringing us a valuable gift--lots or rain. We will be very grateful.

Trying new quilting challenges

This week I forged on--past anywhere I had gone before--way out of the comfort zone of my quilting life thus far. Up until now, I had taken baby steps forward, slowly, a little at a time, trying new things.

I was smitten by a pattern for a table topper--the Swirling Stars-Card Trick Table Topper by Vicki Purnell at the following:

http://www.vickisfabriccreations.blogspot.com/.

Her design just called to me, so I decided I had to give it a try. I first saw this pattern on the Quilting Board, a lovely on-line community that provides a wealth of information for all things quilting. The pattern was really different and I was totally intrigued by it. I'm not sure what made me think I had the skill level to try such a thing, but I wanted to give it a whirl...or should I say a swirl.

This project is made of triangles. Every quilting experience I've ever had with triangles has been near disastrous, but I decided to wade into it anyway.

Since I was going all out, I decided I would walk further down the gang plank by making the decision to machine quilt it when it was done.

First I cut out all the pieces. I've made six quilts and several other projects, but this is the first project that I've been able to use my newly-purchased 1/4" quilting foot. I'm not sure this made a marked difference, because I think my 1/4" seams were pretty close anyway, but the little guide on the foot was somewhat helpful. So once the cutting and sewing were done, it was surprisingly difficult to figure out how to arrange the pieces. I mean it wasn't obvious just by looking at them, like a simple block would be. Since I had the pattern in front of me, I referred to it often.

Then it was time to quilt. I did some stitch-in-the-ditch quilting in the seam areas. That turned out pretty well. Then I decided to sew straight lines along the edges of every other strip. That went well too. I was on a roll, so I decided to do stippling in the centers. I like stippling. I fell in love with this technique years ago when I first saw it at a quilt show. I never dreamed I would ever do it myself, since I wasn't even a quilter then.

I liked the stippling, so I decided to make a curved line in the middle strips, just to offset all those angular lines. Easy, I thought. I practiced doing some gentle curves on a throw-away quilt sandwich. When I thought it looked good enough, I drew it on this piece and stitched away. I was having great fun, thinking that I had finally bitten the free-motion-quilting bullet.

Trouble is, I didn't like how it looked It resembled a snake crawling along the strips. Rather than take out all those too-tiny stitches, which I know would have ended in disaster, I decided to embellish the line. So, I took a deep breath and began drawing leaves along the snake--er--vine. I liked it. It looks rather 'artsy.'

The final challenge was the binding. I never even gave this a thought until I noticed the You-Tube tutorials on the instructions for binding mitered corners, inside angles and joining binding.

This was far from a rectangle, which I was used to. So as I cut and joined my strips for the binding, I closed my eyes, gave myself a quick pep talk, and jumped in with both feet. I watched the videos, took it all in, and followed step-by-step. It was actually easier than I thought it would be.

I'm pleased.