Monterrey Medallion

 

I had great plans for this top. I was going to make twelve more Floating Stars and four more Four-Patch Chain blocks, so without borders it would have been 72x90”. Then I’d have added a 4” border on all four sides: a near solid that would have given the eye a place to rest from the red/blue/green/gold commotion. I’ve got plenty more of these bright, happy prints, but I’m running out of the white tone-on-tone polka dot background. I may have enough for a few more Floating Stars, or a handful of Four-Patch Chains, but not both. I’ve been hunting for weeks; the background fabric is simply gone. It probably doesn’t matter. I’d meant for this to go to the hospital quilters. They won’t need another top for some time – maybe not ever. Meanwhile, I have enough blocks for a 72” quilt. Too big for a wall, too square for a bed. That’s an awful lot of orphan blocks!

Broken Dishes

 

About a fortnight ago, I was unloading the dishwasher when a dinner plate slipped out of my fingers to the floor. It was a Corelle plate. I thought those were practically unbreakable. This dish didn’t just break, it self-destructed. It was as if a small bomb had gone off in the kitchen. There was shattered glass in the dishwasher, under the appliances, in the pantry, and on every inch of the floor around my bare feet. There were even shards on top of my feet and in the cuffs of my jeans. Luckily John was home and could rescue me with a broom and a pair of shoes. After the mess was cleaned up, I did a bit of research. My dishes came with a 3-year warranty (I bought them eleven years ago) and even during those first three years, the warranty didn’t cover misuse, negligence, or accidental breakage. What does that leave? Deliberate breakage?

Twenty-five Chains

This coming Saturday and Sunday will be the 191st semiannual General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I always look forward to conference weekend, usually because of a welcome break from my Sunday callings. But this year my callings have been almost non-existent. In the past six months, I’ve only attended church twice. Even then, it was because they needed an organist. Oddly, I find myself awaiting general conference more eagerly now than ever. I’m looking forward to hearing words of comfort and peace from the pulpit. I long to hear the choir singing my favorite hymns, even though those hymns will surely have been recorded long ago. For more than half a year, my gospel study has taken place entirely at home. And it hasn’t been without its own rewards. But it will be so nice, for a few hours at least, to feel more a part of Christ’s church.

Civil War Scraps Doll Quilt

 This is one of my very smallest quilts, and it has the longest name of all! I love making tiny little quilts. They’re a terrific way of honing my piecing skills, without draining my budget. It isn't hard to pull all the required fabric from my own stash and still make the finished project look like it was deliberate. I can usually finish wall hangings, mug rugs, placemats and table toppers with my own machine, so I don’t have to pay someone with a long-arm quilter. The red, green and black here are Kim Diehl scraps for Henry Glass Fabrics. The background was leftover from a large quilt I made with Audra’s Iris Garden by Bannock and Patek for Moda Fabrics. Somehow, the colors all seem to get along. The pattern (and the long name) came from “The Civil War Sewing Circle: Quilts and Sewing Accessories Inspired by the Era” by Kathleen Tracy. 

Sixteen Woodpiles

“My success in law school was in large measure because of baby Jane. I attended classes and studied diligently until four in the afternoon; the next hours were Jane’s time, spent at the park, playing games or singing songs, reading picture books, bathing and feeding her. After Jane’s bedtime, I returned to the law books with renewed will. Each part of my life provided respite from the other.”

“My mother’s advice was: ‘Don’t lose time on useless emotions like anger, resentment, remorse, envy. Those will just sap time; they don’t get you where you want to be.’”

“I coped with anger by playing the piano. I wasn’t very good at it, but it distracted me. Later, I did the same with the cello. I would be absorbed in the music, and useless emotion faded away.”

“Fight for the things that you care about, but do it in a way that will lead others to join you.” – Ruth Bader Ginsburg (1933-2020)

Twenty Girls

 

I didn’t host any pot-luck dinners this summer, indoors or out. I wasn’t invited to any, and I would have declined if I was. But I believe there are pot-lucks in my future, so I’m saving this recipe here:

 

Mediterranean Bean Salad

 

1/4 cup olive oil

4 tablespoons red wine vinegar

1 teaspoon combined thyme, oregano, and rosemary

1 garlic clove, minced

15-ounce can of cannellini beans drained and well rinsed

15-ounce can of garbanzos drained and rinsed

1 cup halved cherry tomatoes

2 cucumbers halved lengthwise and thinly sliced

1/4 red onion thinly sliced

1 cup bell peppers, chopped

1/2 cup black olives halved

1/2 cup pimento-stuffed green olives halved

1/2 cup crumbled feta

1/2 cup chopped marinated artichokes

10 basil leaves, "chiffonade" sliced

 

Whisk first four ingredients together in large salad bowl. Add remaining ingredients to bowl and gently toss. Cover and chill. Gently toss again right before serving.

A Baker's Dozen

Paul and Kris DeForge met at a dance. They both claimed it was love at first sight. Kris told everyone, “I looked into Paul’s eyes and saw my future.” When they spoke of marriage, they met with opposition. Paul and Kris were born with Down Syndrome. Some people thought they wouldn’t be up to the challenges of married life. But they were married August 13, 1993. For twenty-five years they shared simple pleasures. Kris loved to cook. They went bowling and dancing together. Sometimes they’d go camping with Kris’ sister and her family. Eventually Paul began showing signs of dementia, something that tends to happen earlier to individuals with Down Syndrome. When Paul had to be moved to a care center, Kris would visit him. Shortly after their silver wedding anniversary, Paul passed away. Kris misses him terribly, but she knows their marriage was an example to so many others; proof that people with Down syndrome can achieve their dreams.