Penny Sanford Porcelains

The Stinky Path to Beauty

Just a note between deadlines. I have a few more deadlines to meet tonight, but I need a break, and this chat with you is my refreshing break!

I have a real-life-hubby-should-be-in-the-doghouse-if-it-were-not-so-funny story to share with you.

I came back from the beauty shop this morning, and Gordon and I settled down to work on some screaming paperwork deadlines. This was icky business stuff that HAD to be postmarked before 4 pm today when our little local post office closes.

We started in the studio. You already know that I use the bed as if it is an office desk or a design table. 

If it can be done with pillows stacked high supporting my back and Westies snuggled all around, then I try to accomplish my little projects propped up like a Chinese Princess, from our comfy bed. Picture Shirley Maclaine in Guarding Tess.

Gordon sat down on the edge of the bed as we discussed the deadline.  He suddenly made one of those irritated, impatient faces and mumbled something about the dogs needing to go out. 

Out they all went in a flurry of white fur and happy yippey sounds and little nails clattering against the floor.  I did not smell any puppy poots, but I was pre-occupied with the leering deadlines.

Cut to about an hour later, in the den-turned-office in the farmhouse.  Gordon and I were wheeling around in our office chairs, barely staying out of each other's way in the area of our conjoined desks. Westies were finding safe nooks under the desks to nap and be clear of the desk chair wheelies.

Gordon suddenly hopped out of his chair, muttering with definite irritation and took the dogs outside again. Westie flurries followed with the added excitement of English Shepherd stomachs to race under. 

(I still hope to catch a picture of one of the English Shepherds looking down at the white Westies as one takes a short cut under an English Shepherd tummy. I promise you, those English Shepherds have expressions that clearly say, "I'm STILL not convinced you are all dog. There has got to be some cat in there!")

But back to Gordon.  He came back in, again with an excited frenzy of 32 furry paws (eight dogs) racing to the kitchen to see who would be first at the BIG enamel pan of water. He sat down at the desk and checks the bottom of each shoe.  Gordon grumbled with a good bit more animation, but I had no brain cells to spare to even listen at that moment.

About thirty minutes later, I asked Gordon to check my math, and he wheeled over to look.  Before he picked up the calculator, he examined the bottoms of both feet again and started to get up to take the dogs out.

Then it hit me.  He was smelling my new perm, but he thought it was something the dogs had done or something he had stepped in.  I asked Gordon to confirm the source of the smell by sniffing my hair.  He emphatically declined, and we had a big hearty laugh!

Now, Gordon and I have been married over four years...sneaking up on 4 and a half years.  In that time, my hair has required something like 14 to 16 perms, about one every three or four months.

One would think that my dear sweet husband might have encountered the dreaded perm smell once or twice in the last four-and-a-half years.

More to the point, just how many times must one smell a stinky perm before that smell is embedded in one's memory banks?  More than 16 times, apparently for my geeky-intelligent husband!

Aaaahhhh, men and their short-term memories are fun to play with!  This has had me thinking of the wide range of smells in female beauty products. I may have to torture poor Gordon some more...and very soon!

When did your man learn that "natural beauty" came at an expensive, painful and smelly price?

Where in Blaine have we been?

Blaine, Mississippi.  In Sunflower County in the Mississippi Delta.

Blaine is an un- incorporated little community with some tantalizing remains of the past that would thrill any shutterbug.

Here's what I found online about Blaine, Mississippi:

13 miles north of Indianola on U.S. Highway 49-W and the Illinois Central Gulf Railroad. Also known as Vance's Crossing, until a conflict with Vance, Mississippi, was renamed to Blaine. Blaine, as a postal stop, was closed in March 1968.

The sun was setting fast, but Gordon and I managed to snap a few pictures to share with you.

This was that same trip that we made to Ruleville, MS, to give a program.

Blaine is closer to Sunflower (the town) than it is to Ruleville.  You may not know that Craig Claiborne, longtime food critic for the New York TImes and author, was from Sunflower in Sunflower County, Mississippi!

Another old cotton gin that I just HAD to photograph.  Now, I don't know this for sure, but I would guess there was first a Fisackerly farm or plantation.

Murray might have been a big corporation farm with a number of gins, or it was a cotton gin company.

If you know for sure, please let me know.

When the Kilmichael Cotton Gin was closed, the gin equipment was sold to a third world country. Apparently many smaller, older gin equipment was shipped overseas.

Anyway, where were we? 

Anywhere I can photograph chickens, you can't drag me away.  Gordon was driving that day, or we might still be in Blaine with me following those chicken around to photograph them! 

I am fascinated by chickens, and I want to raise some here on the farm.

Then there was this very interesting home from the 20's? 30's? Unique design.

Would you call this a bungalo? Could this be one of those rare Sears Roebuck mail-order houses? If you can give this style a name, please let me know.

I love those leaded windows! Notice how the columns get get both thicker and wider... and are covered with shiplap siding?

That is shiplap, is it not? Always love to learn...

A Restful Rainy Sunday Afternoon

I apologize that the previous post was so raw with emotion. Maybe it was good to get that out. Maybe it revealed too much of my fears. Whatever, it is water under the bridge.

Gordon took this picture of the Mississippi River Bridge looking from the Vidalia, Louisiana, side to the Natchez, Mississippi side. I just love the moody feel of this picture, and I've been looking for the right time to share it with you.

This Sunday afternoon is dark and ominous with thunderstorms all around our little county.  The rain is rebuilding the water tables for a long hot summer ahead.

These almost daily rain storms are making the grass and shrubs and trees grow like they were in a tropical jungle. We will spend the rest of the summer trying to catch up with all that needs to be mowed or bush-hogged or pruned.

I'm snuggling with and petting four little Westies as Gordon watches basketball playoffs, listens to Dallas Cowboy radio over the Internet (about the NFL draft) and watches the radar, tracking the progress of the various storms.

My old-timey method is to count seconds between the lightning bolt and the thunder that follows.  The number of seconds between flash and sound tell me how many miles the storm has to travel to reach this nest of buildings here on the farm.

Time to forget deadlines, responsibilities, heartaches and focus on the sound of snoring Westies.

Time to disengage and pay attention to the five senses....vanilla candle for smell, Westie fur and warmth and heartbeat for touch, the soothing sight of sleeping dogs for sight, the drone of sports on the television (need to find some soothing music)...and chocolate ice cream for taste.

Gee, I could go for an acupuncture session right now...or a pedicure/manicure (as long as I did not have to talk to anyone)...or a long, long soak in a spa tub.

Laura has been Missing Over 100 Hours!!!

We returned Saturday afternoon from driving all the gravel roads in and around the farm, looking for Lara.  It is too wet to take anything but a tractor on the hunting roads or timber roads on the farm.

We've driven so many miles looking for Lara since she disappeared earlier this week.

Lara is one of the rescued Puppy Mill Westies that came to live with us September 2, 2007. 

As we pulled back into the parking area in front of the house, I saw little white fuzzy faces hopping up and down behind the screen at the front door. They were so happy to see Unc and me return.

Instinctively, I counted tails as I walked in the house.  One. Two. Three. Four. Five. S....  No number six. No Laura. The pain swelled over me afresh and leaked out of my eyes.

Lord, I am trusting YOU to take care of little Laura and hopefully bring her back home.

Was it Tuesday or Wednesday of this week that Mackie and Laura apparently slipped out the door under the feet of someone who was focused on something else, who did not see little white dogs bursting out into the adventure of the green playground? Someone who would not automatically remember that little white dogs cannot be left outside of a fence without supervision. 

To keep the lines of communication with God open with the goal of Him bringing Laura back to us, I have had to quickly forgive the one who unknowingly let two of my babies run away. If any anger starts to gurgle deep inside me over this, I have to stop and choose to forgive...and go back to trusting God to turn this excruciating drama into something good.

Gordon and I know the escape was absolutely an accident, a factor of age, and not because that person did not care about these little rescued Westies.  These little dogs are deeply loved by all four humans on this farm.

I can hardly remember the first 30 horrible hours that crawled by after we discovered two missing fur babies. Unc and Gordon covered the whole farm in separate vehicles. They stopped at the neighbors, the nearest one half a mile away.  We called everyone for whom we have caught and returned a dog over the previous decades. Those would be people who would be a bit more motivate to look for two little white terriers running free.

Thirty hours after we first missed Mackie and Laura, the big English Shepherds started barking in the long hall of the farmhouse. Unc looked out the front door to see if someone had driven up, and one little white streak of fur zoomed through his feet and into the safety of the house.

Mackie had come home.

Gordon brought him down to the studio to me, and we hugged him together, while I sobbed in relief, and Mackie licked away my flowing tears.  I was praying and thanking God the whole time we checked Mackie and picked off ticks and doctored the bite marks and scratches.

Lara would surely be close behind Mackie.  We checked outside and called throughout the night. No Lara. No one of our farm friends or neighbors have seen any little white dog.

It is now Saturday evening.  Twice this week, we have heard barking in the distance, but when we reach those dogs, they have been either strays or in the case this afternoon, a trio of "coon dogs" that had strayed onto our farm.

It has been 100 hours since we discovered Laura missing.

I honestly do not see how parents of human children survive when a child goes missing. 

Maybe I project onto these little dogs the relationship I would have with a child of our own. Gordon and I know we will be facing the last decades of our lives without the infusion of life that children and grandchildren provide.

Maybe the 45 year old hormones that are playing hide-and-seek inside me are causing me to "lose it"...not be able to contain or control my emotions. Insomnia, a physical ache like the flu, cluster headaches, migraine and stress combined.

Images of Laura injured, Lara with a rope around her neck, Lara bitten by a snake, Laura run over, Laura in pain from ___________ just fill in the blank, and I have pictured it. 

Mackie had been in a fight with some creature with teeth. His wide collar blocked one tooth, but there was a deep puncture from the other tooth about the area of his carotid artery.

Thankfully, we had not given Mackie a shaved-back Westie cut this spring, so his very thick hair protected him for the rest of the bites that obviously gave the attacker a mouth full of hair and limited contact with Mackie's skin.

I've been praying almost constantly for God to bring Laura back home. During the tears and prayers, God has been leading me to pray instead, "I trust you, Lord, to take care of Lara".

In my Baptist/Presbyterian upbringing, I believe God created Lara. Lara and everything else I claim as my own really belongs to God. God brought Laura and the other rescued Westies into our lives to tremendously bless us. So it is God's prerogative to move Lara to another place.

For reasons I cannot understand, God allowed the circumstances that let Laura and Mackie to escape.
God brought Mackie back home. Now God is allowing Lara to be separated from us.

If God loved those little Westies enough to allow us to get them out of that horrible puppy mill, then He still loves Lara enough to protect her now.

All five Westies were on the bed with me for several hours this evening. Charlotte has returned to her "job" of sleeping with either Mama or Unc, and the four Westies that stay with Gordon and me in the studio have stayed glued to the bed as Gordon watches the NFL Draft and basketball playoffs.

It is very possible that Lara is out having a Westie good time sniffing after rabbit and other wildlife. There is plenty of water in a number of ponds on the farm, and Lara has more than sufficient natural instinct to catch something to eat.

Lara may have spent the majority of her life in a small cage on a concrete slab, but in the past seven months, she and Mackie have been on a Mission to patrol the back yard and keep it safe from invading frogs and birds and rabbits and such. The terrier instinct is strong in Lara and Mackie.

She was wearing a wide pink collar with black polka dots when she disappeared. If someone has picked her up, they will surely know she is accustomed to pampering...just by the collar...don't you think?

Lara had pulled off her rabies tag and identification tag recently, and I had not gotten the stronger S-shaped rings to re-attach the tags.  You can imagine how I am blaming myself for that procrastination.

Please join me in praying for God to protect Lara and return her to us. If not, I am praying that God places her with a home where she will be loved more, even, than she was loved here.

This hurts so much I can hardly breathe.

DROOL over this version of my quilt project

Well!  If I had seen this colorway of Botanika by Robyn Pandolph, I might have gone with this version. Those golds and reds really talk to me!

However it is possible that this winner of a ribbon (white ribbon = third place?) at the Smoky Mountain Quiltfest at Pigeon Forge Quilt Show chose her own fabrics for this pattern.

Quilting friend Pam McRae sent me this picture she took when attending that show after reading that I was making such slow progress on my Botanika quilt. Pam, you're an angel of motivation! (Pam is the webmaster of the Mississippi Quilt Association website.)

The border must be a personalized step beyond the original pattern, and I really like how it ties the blocks together.

The second picture is a close version of the quilt block- of-the- month by Stitchin' Heaven in Quitman, Texas.

I still love the colors in this version of the quilt (see my September finished block).

I adore how they tend to the smallest detail and provide generous and quality fabric for their block of the month programs, so this is the third BOM I've done with them. (Another BOM I've signed up for through Stitchin' Heaven starts this month...details in a later post.)

As you can see, I finished August, September and October blocks, and I am managing to crawl along on the December block. I jumped over the November block, and now I can't remember why I put it off.

Hey, today I managed to squeeze in stitches for 1/2 of a leaf on that December block!

If I want to put a border around my quilt similar to the border in the first picture, then I need to find more of the background fabric Stitchin' Heaven is using... that I adore!  Sanctuary by Two Sisters for Moda.

The third version of this quilt uses a strong pattern for the border. It uses a palate of purples.

The fourth version of this quilt that I found some -where online was in The Road to California Quilt Show. Note the heavier quilting inside each block. The border (not pictured) had a shell quilted pattern. The back- ground appears to be a solid cream. I like the extra blues in this quilt also.

So, what do you think? Which border treatment do you like best? Which colorway do you like best?

I would really value your thoughts. One day soon I will run out of leaves to applique on my current block, and I will be ready to move onto the next block.

If you know who made these specific quilts, please let me know and I will be delighted to give them credit in this post!

By the way, you need to read this exciting article from the The Wall Street Journal about the growth in the quilt and fabric industries and how  quilts have revived the economy of Paducah, Kentucky!

Oh, for the Energy of a Hummingbird!

Actually, the hummingbirds have been here on the farm in Mississippi for about a month, I think.  The days tend to blur in the spring when the farm is jacked up on chlorophyll.

One day the daffodils are breaking through the cold ground, then we are out pruning and primping the trees and setting out more, feeling like THIS year we will finally get on top of all the outdoor work we need to do.

Then a drop of rain comes to nurture the trees we have just set out as well as the flowering shrubs or plants we have moved. That first rain give us such a cozy feeling of accomplishment as the rain "sets" the plants in the soil, almost guaranteeing their survival for this year.

Then we blink, and there have been dozens of rain showers (or rain storms), and the farm explodes with growth.

Weeds and good grass overwhelm us, growing faster than a bush-hog and riding lawn mower can eat. I annually long for a small herd of sheep or a few beef to fatten on the abundant growth.

This year has revealed itself beautifully. The blooms have been especially luscious, and the plants have invented concocted thousands of new shades of green. The color show makes me want to break out my oils and canvas...but there is never enough time.

I've resumed my affair with Mr. Roundup, and I find myself even spraying the gravel driveway because the grass and weeds threaten to reclaim even the driveway and parking areas.

Soon, the summer drought will put the brakes on this surging growth. When the heat drives us inside for the majority of each day, we will continue to watch the hummingbirds feed and marvel at the power in those tiny wings. 

I wish I could borrow their metabolism for a few months...or permanently.

These pictures were shared with me via email a couple of years back. I ran across them again and saved them to share with you when our hummingbirds returned.  I don't know who took these pictures or who posed with the hummingbirds.

Then dear friend Honey Johnston in Columbus shared this site which has photographed a hummingbird nest from egg to first flight. This site chronicles several  years of the life in a hummingbird family.

We have a hummingbird nest that was blown out of shrubbery by a storm. It still held its precious cargo of eggs. The parents would not return to the nest, so we saved nest and eggs.

I'll share that picture with you later.  I also want to share a picture of our first peony of the year.

May your day be blessed with the energy of a hummingbird!

History Mystery: Homes of Columbus

Earlier this month, I blogged about a quick trip to Columbus and the beautiful historic homes we did not have time to see.

Thanks to Mississippi Quilting friend Barb Jansz, my questions about the identity of the homes was referred to her brother, Bob Raymond, a French professor at Mississippi State University.

Here is the information provided by Bob:

Lindamood Home
"The Lindamood family bought the old Sherrod home built in 1847.

"Peter Lindamood is said to have caused the fire which destroyed the house.

"The Lindamoods owned a brick factory in Columbus and rebuilt a house on the site as it is today."

 Franklin Square
"Franklin Square is owned by Lilla Pratt Rosamond.

"Her family had a publishing business in NYC called Franklin Square, so her family named their house after it. The school next door is Franklin Academy, the first free public school in Mississippi."

The Fort House
"The Fort House was built by Elias Fort in the 1830s.

"His widow married a man named Sharp and then divorced him.

"She then added on to her home in the style that we call Columbus eclectic. It combines Greek, Gothic and Italianate features.

"There were 5 homes of this style in Columbus, only 3 remain. This style if found nowhere else in the US/world. The architect's name was O'Neal.

"The green house used to be Beard's Interiors but is now owned by the Baptist Church. It was covered in aluminum siding several years ago but retains it's 1870s woodwork."

Bob, I can't thank you enough for this information! I will be exploring further (with camera and hopefully NOT through the windshield) when we return to Columbus early in May!

I especially want to see more of the Columbus Eclectic style and photograph the remaining three rare examples.

Now, maybe you can help me with this History Mystery that evolved from that earlier blog post.

My cousin Nelda Chase Hamer sent this picture today of her mother and grandmother sitting in front of their home in Columbus, Mississippi.

Nelda does not know the street address of this home, nor does she know if it is still standing today.

This picture would have been taken around 1906 or 1907,

Nelda emailed, "I have no idea where the house is/was. I was told only "Columbus", but my mother identified it as the house where her family lived in the first decade of the 20th century. 

"My grandparents were Jonathan Anderson Medford (1869-1950) and Minnie Modena Conner Medford (1880-1933). 

"The first three children (shown in the photo) were Walter Mitchell Medford (1902-1971), Modena Geraldine Medford (1903-1982) and John Conner Medford (1905-1956). 

"Four additional children were born in that house - first a set of boy twins, Almoth James and Albert William, in 1907, then a set of girl wins, Mary Elizabeth and Mildred Louise, in 1910. The next four were born in Ripley then the final three in Corinth."

Anyone know anything about this house or the Medford family of Columbus?  If this house is still standing, I certainly want to get a photo of it to send to Nelda!

Finally! The Story of Those Dump Quilts!

"When you see fabric go over the wall, you just have to stop and check it out,"  Maxine Thompson of Ashland, MS, said.  "I was put there at that time for a reason."

Indeed, Thompson and her husband George were at the Marshall County Dump last summer at just the right time to see a striking red and white pattern flash past her peripheral vision. The landfill manager was emptying some cardboard boxes into a large trash bin, and at first glance, Maxine thought he was throwing away blankets.

According to reporter (and fellow quilt enthusiast) Linda Jones, in an article she wrote for Holly Springs newspaper The South Reporter, Thompson had been backing up her vehicle to help her husband unload some stuff at the garbage dump, but when that red and white flash caught her eye, she stopped, walked over to the trash bin and discovered the seven vintage quilts. 

The quilts are hand pieced and hand quilted. They have definitely been used over the years because most of the binding is frayed. Many of the fabrics, Thompson said, appear to be from the 1930's.

Maybe these are quilts made from scraps from the clothes some mother sewed for her family, Thompson mused, or maybe the fabrics in the quilts are made from clothes that were outgrown or used to the point of threadbare patches.

"It's like going to the diamond mine in Murfreesboro, Arkansas, and coming out with a big 14 carat diamond," Thompson said.

"It's kinda hard to describe my feelings," Thompson said, "but a diamond is formed deep in the earth from so many years of intense pressure and heat, and these quilts were formed deep in some family's past from many hours of hand labor, careful attention, and a lot of love."

In the news article, Thompson described her exchange with the landfill manager, and he finally told the Thompsons they could have the quilts if they could fish them out of the big dumpster.  Only the red and white quilt was not thrown into the dumpster.

The television action hero McGuyver would have been proud of the contraption the Thompsons constructed from a garage door channel, a flimsy curtain rod and some wire.  The curtain rod made the hook, and it kept bending under the weight of each old quilt.

"The people throwing (these quilts) away were not taught by their elders to knit, crochet, tat, crewel, embroider, counted cross stitch...any of the fine needlework skills that us older homemakers know,"  Thompson said. "They don't have any appreciation" for the family history or the skill and hours it takes to make quilts or other types of needlework.

Thompson has been quilting since the 1960's. Her first quilt was made from blocks her grandmother had appliqued with butterflies. The butterflies were made from flour sack fabric. Thompson has a deep appreciation of the handwork and fabrics of the past.

The Marshall County Dump quilts have revealed a few secrets, pressed inside the quilt, against the batting.

At different times, Thompson or her husband have discovered:
1. The printed image of a woman holding stalks or ears of corn above the printed company name of "John Wade Patent Flour Company, Memphis TN."  The flour sack formed part of the backing fabric of the quilt, but the printed side was turned in toward the batting to hide it.

2. The printed image of a large pile of potatoes with a rainbow stretching over the potatoes.  Again, the printed image was turned inside toward the batting so that the reverse of the sack forms part of the backing of the quilt.

3. On the back of the blue quilt, a big 10 inch by 12 inch square is printed with "Rust College, Holly Springs, MS". You can see a picture of this block in the news article.

4. The news article also has a picture of the "Memphis Branch Federal Reserve Bank, St. Louis, MO" patch of fabric that also says, "Do not cut when opening".

"I would like these seven quilts to go to seven different museums within state of Mississippi," Thompson said.  "This is part of Mississippi history, and this Mississippi history should stay in Mississippi.

Thompson is taking good care of the quilts while she researches their provenance. She has only aired the quilts outside in the sunshine for a couple of days, and that took out the lingering smell of "musty storage".

Beyond the frayed edges, Thompson said some of the fabric is disintegrating from age and use.

The batting does not have any cotton seed in it, indicating the maker(s) took the time to card the scrap cotton that was so often used in this type of "cover quilt".

Rolls of cotton batting that quilters use in quilts today were not available in the 1920's or 1930's, the decades indicated by the fabrics in some of these quilts.

"Cover Quilt" is most often the term used to define quilts made from scraps that were primarily used to provide warmth.  Cover quilts were made with the expectation of being used up or used until the point of being threadbare.

More decorative quilts that were made from coordinating fabrics to showcase a stitcher's skills were kept for display or for use when company came to visit.

Notice the improvisations in the red and white quilt. Some would call these mistakes. Quilt lovers call these areas of improvisation, "character". 

Notice in the fifth picture that the solid blue border is used on only one side of the quilt. The opposite blue border is pieced.

What if these quilts could reveal their full story?  I wrote a little short piece of fiction based on this real-life rescue, "If Quilts Could Talk".

The Thompsons rescued the quilts almost a year ago, May 12, 2007. Linda Jones wrote her article for the May 24,, 2007, issue after the Thompsons brought the quilts to Holly Springs to show them to the Marshall County Museum curator.

Gordon and I first saw the quilts when the Thompsons gave a presentation to the Fall Gathering of the Mississippi Quilt Association in Oxford last October.  That is when we took the pictures you see here. I only have pictures of six of the seven Marshall County Dump Quilts.

I've had these photos edited and ready to blog ever since October, and I had intended to immediately follow up my little quilt story, If Quilts Could Talk, with this post.  Maxine and I have chased each other around on the phone the last couple of weeks, and finally, tonight, I had energy, time, telephone and Maxine's phone numbers all in the same place at the same time!

You can reach Maxine Thompson by email. Hopefully someone will know something about the printed fabric blocks that will yield a clue about the maker(s) of these quilts.

 

New Level of Spring Cleaning

Elvis is whimper -ing and I can't figure out why.

He was sleeping soundly with his head on my ankles, and he woke up and immediat -ely started whining. There is no reason for the sudden change in his de- meanor.  Perhaps another thunder -storm will hit the farm in an hour or so. 

We had an intense storm earlier this afternoon, complete with hail.  Of our nine dogs , Elvis has the greatest fear of storms.  All the puppy mill rescues tremble before and during storms.  After all, they were kept in cages that were open to the weather... conditions that make me tremble with anger.

So, we give all the fur babies doses of an herbal anxiety medicine, and they snuggle close and in time sleep through a storm.

What a week! It was Spring Cleaning on a much larger scale!

Gordon and I spent a dis- proportion -ate amount of time out on the farm, overseeing scrap metal (old farm implements) removal and working with the timber stands. Both are projects that will continue for quite some time.

Annie got to go on each of these daily adventures. She is coming out of her shell even more as we share these adventures.

We're also re- organizing the office and weeding the files, all 15 or so file cabinets!

Last week, I put Annie in a second office chair, on top of her own pillow, and she goes to "her" office chair now in expectation that she will join me, chairs side by side, as I do paperwork. I am completely charmed by her assistance!

Unc dug up a big tray of coreopsis from elsewhere on the farm for us to transplant them at the entrance to our driveway, among those Yucca plants. We'll hit that tomorrow (Saturday).

Porcelain deadlines were met each day this week as well.

I had some musings to share with you tonight, but I am too sore and sleepy to try and put thought to computer.!

We'll talk more this weekend.

A Leaf A Day Keeps the Doctor Away

Make that a leaf and a half a day.

That is all I have been able to applique, at most, since mid February... and not necessarily every day. Some weeks, I only get a couple of leaves appliqued on this block of Botanika by Robyn Pandolph.

This is one of our centerpiece rocks in the old rose garden in the back yard. I was pulling weeds around the rock and uncovered a not-so-happy nest of fire ants.

Fire ants and a brisk wind meant no pretty picture to share with you... just a Snap and Snatch.

I'm certainly not tired of this block! It is easy to take with me because I don't have to look at the pattern, and I have a big stack of the three different fabrics cut in leaf shapes. I feel driven to finish this block and get onto the next one.

*Sigh* Sewing is such marvelous therapy, and I am missing my therapy sessions!  Thankfully, for now, even just a leaf a day is still keeping the men in white jackets away.