tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89783645075100653072023-11-16T07:32:32.269-08:00A Stitch in Time . . .Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-14642648481011348262011-11-02T07:48:00.000-07:002011-11-02T09:00:17.386-07:00Snow Days and Wedding Days<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>It's snowing. I love being in Colorado when the first snows of winter fall. Somehow that is one of the feelings I've retained since childhood. I think it's a little bit sad how some adults don't like snow. It's like they've lost something. I do understand how bad it can be if you are struggling through traffic or trying to get a child to daycare. It can be a bother for sure. But, surely there is still that little flicker of awe when you first see the flakes:) If you don't care for snow, dogs, or small children I secretly wonder if you are truly a happy person:) <div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>The second part of this blog title is "Wedding Days" so I will move on. Peter and Erin have just married. As I write they are on a plane returning from their honeymoon. It was a beautiful wedding. Erin looked amazing. Peter was the handsome groom anticipating his bride. Good friends and family came to be with us and witness Peter and Erin's love for each other. Our daughter and son-in-law came with our beautiful grandson. He had a million smiles to give out at the wedding. It was a great day. There is one line that I keep thinking about that the marriage officiant said, "let these young hands that reach out to the other today be the same hands that reach out to the other when they are old and wrinkled." At the time I thought, "yes, please God let that be so." The marriage in the younger years is so different than the marriage of the later years. But time and time again the same hands reach out. D and I have been together so long now that I have to put a little effort into remembering when we were not together. Because of the situation of our lives we spend a great deal of time apart but it never changes the same hands reaching out when we are together. We look back now on the younger years, the many moves, the raising of our children, and we cherish what we have today (especially the amazing blessing of our little grandson who lights up our lives). Thank you so much K and D for the greatest gift to any parents, and for being so generous in sharing him.<br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>We have one more adult child to find those hands that will always reach out to comfort and hold him. We will be there to witness that happiness when it happens. Life seems full of treasures still to be discovered.</div>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-83859722738022393872011-10-01T06:07:00.000-07:002011-10-01T06:31:41.335-07:00I Just Want to Go HomeIt's true. I just want to go home. Home means the log sided house in Colorado. It has the most beautiful view in all the world. It has the material items that are familiar to me . . . my beautiful copper, my blue and white dishes, family photo albums, rugs I've collected from our travels, my FABRICS that hold a million possibilities for quilts. It is where I tend (with so much purpose and pleasure) the Aspen trees we've planted near the house. I can pick up the phone and talk to my family. I can take a couple of airplane flights and see my family. I live in the same DAY as my family. My heart settles when I sit on the porch with our dogs. (And my heart has never settled all that well anywhere.) It's an isolated spot so it's important to get out and walk with my neighbor, and good to get out for small trips pretty frequently. There are days when it doesn't seem all that great, but isn't that true of any place? Still it's our home. I don't really like going in to town, except to get the mail. Reclusive? I love the walks we can take right from our house. I love the snow coming down and the fire place burning. And my fabrics. Oh, I already mentioned those. <div><br /></div><div>I think I'm homesick and I haven't even left the country yet. </div>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-28365937220519888582011-09-17T19:09:00.000-07:002011-09-18T06:52:13.731-07:00Long lapse in time . . .It's the end of the summer now. I haven't posted since January 2011 when we were still in the middle of the move to Indonesia! Sheesh. I think I will skip any update and just post pictures:) Let's just say, we moved. It was hard. We traveled back to the States for many different reasons. I'm still here. There is a wedding very soon and then I will go back. Done. Meanwhile I do a lot of sewing wherever I am.Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-89416108832946821342011-01-16T14:38:00.000-08:002011-01-18T05:20:22.507-08:00Tally and Moose<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>We've been in the middle of this move now for what seems like forever. It started last fall when the phone call came in that David was requested to work in Jakarta. Quickly followed a trip to Indonesia to gather information. We had many discussions about how this would effect our lives (specifically the distance from our family), and the big one that we didn't want to mention: what to do with Moose and Tally. Now if you are NOT a dog lover . . . just stop reading now. In our family we love our dogs a lot. They are treated well, cared for with great concern, and only left when absolutely necessary. Since I don't work outside the home I have plenty of time to make their lives full of walks, ball toss sessions, and loving pats. They are my constant companions. If they look a little bit bored I take them in the car with me on errands. Moose faces forwards; Tally faces backwards. I know all their habits. In Calgary where they had to wear boots to protect their feet from the sub zero temperatures Moose was happy to get his boots on; Tally acted like I was punishing her. When we got though outside she was skipping and hopping like a kid with new tennis shoes. They made her run faster and jump higher! It really was hilarious. But sadly those days are no more. It isn't right to put dogs who are 10 and 12 years old through all it would involve to move them to a hot country with no parks, or even side walks. They would be scared and in shock making the 30+ hour trip to get there. They would be hot, bored, without good veterinary care, and would live out their lives in a very limited environment. So the decision had to be made concerning what to do with them. Finally, Moose went to live with Paul and Tucker; Tally to Atlanta with K, D, and G. They seem to be doing Okay. Wish I could say the same for myself. <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>All my life I have loved my dogs. When I was in first grade my brother and I got off the school bus one day and found a bag of puppies tied up in a feed sack! We, or course, took them across the road to our farm house. It was like winning the lottery for a first graders. I had a sack full of puppies, a treasure that someone else tired to throw away in a cruel fashion. I got to keep one which I named Sally. That's right, after the "Dick, Jane, and Sally" readers of the early 1960's. I loved that dog with all my heart. She let me do anything to her including putting bonnets on her. When she was happy and excited she would twist her mouth into what could only be perceived as a doggie smile. What a dog. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Now I am without my Tally girl. It has been a couple of months since she went to Atlanta. I still sense her around the corner when I move through the house. I find myself waking up on the couch at midnight with the TV on because she isn't there to nudge me. At 9:45 on the dot she would always tell me to wake up. That wet nose indicating it was time to go upstairs to bed. I miss the relaxation I always felt of listening to her full out snoring on the floor. I miss seeing how much real estate that dog could manage to take up in the middle of a room when she crashed for a nap. I miss it all. I feel like I have betrayed her trust; betrayed her good hearted, full out, no-holes-barred Labrador love. </div><div><br /></div><div>Please God, let her live a long healthy life so that I can bring her back home again when this is over; let Moose enjoy the two and half acres in Washington where he can sniff the breeze. Let them not think too much that we left them; and help me to stop crying everyday over my four legged best friends. Seriously.</div>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-56155695963191173862011-01-11T12:23:00.000-08:002011-01-11T14:43:04.877-08:00This one is for Monday's Child<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Thirty years ago tomorrow I had a morning doctor's appointment. I was nearing the birth of our second child. It was coming down to the once a week appointment when you feel like you ought to have gone into labor yesterday. We didn't know the sex of the baby since it was before such things became the norm. We already had an adorable little blond-headed boy who was 20- months-old. He could say, "the baby is coming out of mommy's tummy" in his little precocious toddler voice. We already had all the necessary baby items from his recent birth. I hadn't purchased anything new, but I had handled everything pink that JC Penny's carried in the baby department. It's a wonder they didn't ask me to leave the pink sleepers alone since I was going almost daily to pick them up and put them down again. We didn't have the budget to buy just anything we had a whim to buy. We did have the budget to buy groceries, gas, pay our bills, and go out to eat once each paycheck, but no money for pink sleepers that might have to be returned. We'd never been happier. Budget, smuget. Our toddler gave us joy on a daily basis; Our lives of building this little family stretched ahead of us as a world of possibilities. But I couldn't get "pink" off my mind. I was afraid to hope, afraid to think of myself bundling up big brother and little sister to go out in the Colorado snow to play. Now DON'T get me wrong. I would have loved another little boy with all my heart (and I do love my second boy with all my heart), but I had "pink" fever. Bad. I grew up with all boys, three brothers. I WANTED A GIRL. I WANTED TINY PINK SLEEPERS! I could only think in a whisper about the dresses I would sew . . . little white collars . . . little smocked jumper . . . all worn with little Mary Jane shoes. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I went to that appointment while a friend watched big brother in waiting. I thought I would be back in an hour or so. However when the doctor did his examination he said I wasn't going anywhere except to the hospital. Those contractions I had been having weren't Braxton Hicks after all. I had driven myself to the appointment but no one was letting me drive away. David had taken the bus to work that day as usual. I had to call him to come to the doctor's office and escort me to the hospital pronto. He managed to find a ride with a friend (who was single at the time and wasn't accustomed to such emergencies:). Long story short, we finally got to the hospital and got on with the business of birth. After about 12 hours of labor it was time for the great push. (With all three of my babies I was a good pusher. I guess I can be proud of that since I was a terrible laborer). So, push I did. Out she came. Out SHE came. SHE. As in, SHE will be wearing PINK. My obstetrician was a real kidder so when he said, "it's a girl," I didn't believe him. I asked about ten times if he was sure "it" was a girl. Finally David said "Sherri, it's a girl" and I believed him. My dreams of bundling up big brother and little sister had come true. We had a beautiful little girl to be little sister to our beautiful little boy. I was so excited that I didn't sleep that night. I looked at her a million times. Ok, I must confess. I didn't look at my first born a million times because after 30+ hours of labor having him I was dead to the world. With baby #3 (Thursday's child) I knew from experience to get all the sleep I could get while in the hospital. Apologies to my boys. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Anyway, here we are 30 years later. Monday's child now has a child of her own. She did wear a zillion dresses that I made for her. She always thought they were wonderful, beautiful, and never wanted dresses from the store rather than the ones I made for her. She had at least 15 pairs of Mary Jane shoes over the years, though her favorite shoes were always her red Keds with the bumper toes. By the age of three she could strike a pose worthy of a magazine while I draped a bolt of fabric around her to see if it "was her color." She was also able to hold her own with any of the boys. She could jump off the diving board at age three. She broke her arm rounding third base. She was a heck of a soccer player. She hung in there to get an engineering degree, and then a master's to boot. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>So, here is to Monday's child . . . May you enter your thirties with grace and wisdom, and wearing pink (or at least some girlie color that looks good on you:). </div><div><br /></div><div>Love you.</div><div>Mom </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span></div>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-61995766464695772222010-03-26T16:57:00.000-07:002010-04-01T13:55:21.713-07:00Things I've learned on this tripHello.<div><br /></div><div>This will be short and and sweet. Well, at least short:)</div><div><br /></div><div>These are the things I have learned on this trip so far (no certain order of importance):</div><div><br /></div><div>(1) It is possible to wear one mismatched pair of Smart Wool socks for 9 straight days w/o washing. They will still hold their shape.</div><div><br /></div><div>(2) No matter how tired I am when I leave my grandchild, I immediately wish I could be back with him. Absolutely. Without a doubt. </div><div><br /></div><div>(3) Sometimes in life it is simply your (my) turn to sleep on the floor for the night. It doesn't matter how many phone calls your son and his fiancee make to find you a room. </div><div><br /></div><div>(4) I can actually forget to buy deodorant for days.</div><div><br /></div><div>(5) Peter and Erin are even MORE considerate than I already knew they were. How many people have met YOU at the airport with a Starbucks coffee in hand for you?</div><div><br /></div><div>(6) Almost everywhere I go there is a serious snow storm.</div><div><br /></div><div>(7) The Snow Shoe Lodge isn't such a bad place really. </div><div><br /></div><div>(8) Margaritas make everything seem manageable, even home renovations (until they wear off). The margaritas, that is.</div><div><br /></div><div>(9) Having a grandchild has broken my heart wide open again. </div><div><br /></div><div>(10) Motherhood makes a woman (K) actually more physically beautiful. </div><div><br /></div><div>(11) FB friends are very important when traveling.</div><div><br /></div><div>(12) M.J.'s lasagna can taste really, really good especially when M.J.'s is the only place open to get food.</div><div><br /></div><div>(13) My FB postings are not all that interesting to anyone. Who cares!?! Everyone have another margarita!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-11988990392677966542010-01-11T06:28:00.000-08:002010-01-11T15:02:40.495-08:00Parents and Grandparents (probably sappy)Parenting is on my mind this morning. There are several reasons I suppose. Not the least of which is that our daughter and her husband are weeks away from becoming parents themselves. I have been "mom" or "mum" or some form thereof for over 30 years. Now I will get to add "Gramma" to my life resumé. Of course this little guy may never call me that, even though it is how I already think of myself in relationship to him, and have signed his homemade quilts. He will decide his heart names for us. We will all be delighted with his choices:). In my imagination I have already held him, smelled that sweet new baby smell, seen those little arms and legs, and experienced the happiness of seeing our daughter and son-in-law in moments of new parent adoration. Seeing my daughter become a mother . . . what a miracle. I know when I get my turn to really, truly, hold him that I will remember thoroughly the happiness I felt when my own children were born. The slate of parenting was clean, brand new. My heart was giant size with love. I am sure grandparent love is amazing too. My cousin and all my already grandparent friends have told me it is. They all get this expression of bliss on their faces when they say it. I get the feeling it will be a brand new world. I can't wait. <div><br /></div><div>The other reason parenting is on my mind this morning is that I realize that I sometimes still don't do it as well as I would like. I love my children so much. They are the treasure. They always have been and always will be. Yet we have to go through the messiness of navigating all things about life. Parents have to find that fine line so many darn times. It doesn't stop when the children grow up. We are bound to miss sometimes. But I hate missing. Ever since that first time I held them I didn't ever want to miss. D tells me that I tend to be a "score keeper" and I know that it true. Anyone able to relate? It's hard for others, but I keep meticulous score of my own perceived mistakes. It is like I say to myself, "Mistake. Fifty laps. Now!" It's one of those things I have been trying to "let go of" for most of my life. (By the way, "letting go" is a term I often find frustrating.) I know, M.A. in psychology and I still said that! If we could all just "let go" of the things that clutter our personalities and relationships don't you think we would do just that? I just hope my (adult now) children always know that I am pulling for them. Seriously, pulling for them. Even when I miss the line and have to come back and apologize. I won't stop encouraging them, loving them, respecting and accepting them for who they are. Yes, I mess up along the way . . . but please know that I would rather not. More than anything, I would rather not.</div><div><br /></div><div>We, as a family, are coming along with the new parents. It is their turn, but their happiness will be ours; Their concerns will be ours. We will all laugh when we see him laugh. Emails and tweets will fly when he crawls, or when he takes those first steps. I know that this baby will have two uncles who won't be able to get enough of him over the coming years. He will have a Grandpa who will want to give him the moon. Good thing the parents-to-be are the sharing kind:) Welcome, little boy. We love you. We are here waiting for you. And to K and D, all the best in this new phase of life. You are in for quite an adventure. I hope you will be gentle with yourselves. Good luck on that one:)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-73332224929275430822009-10-12T17:08:00.001-07:002009-10-12T17:18:29.168-07:00Butterfly Fling<div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36824548@N06/4006067635/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3080/4006067635_98cb9c93c9.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /></a><br /><span style=" margin-top: 0px;font-size:0.8em;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36824548@N06/4006067635/">IMG_2881</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/36824548@N06/">minerscreekmum</a>.</span></div><p>This is a crib size quilt made from a Moda fabric called "Butterfly Fling." It is bright and pretty. Just right to brighten up a crib and keep a little child warm. I was recently notified that all 465 quilts that our group has made have been handed out. The weather is turning colder now so more are needed. It may seem like a lot of work to make quilts for this project. I mean we could go out and buy some blankets for the cost (or less) of the fabric. Not to mention the time. However, years ago when we lived in Egypt there was a nun who worked with the Cairo Garbage city children. She came to the speak at our women's group one time just before Christmas, and to accept our donations for the children. Her "talk" was illuminating. Basically, she conveyed the message that when we give to the poor, the poorest of the poor, we need to give our best. She didn't mince words about NOT giving partially broken toys or hand-me-down clothes with holes in them to her precious children of Garbage City. Hey, if you are an older nun with an eloquence of speech, you get away with some straight talk like that! It was a lesson that hit me significantly back then when I was in my late 20's living the privileged expat life. I truly can't remember what I brought to contribute that day. I think I was Ok, but there were some women who were crying. Anyway, her message stuck with me. When you give to the poor, give the best you can. Well, this is my best . . . for now. I hope it finds its way to someone who needs it. I will wrap it up and send it off. That is the last I will know, but I can imagine for a long, long time that one night a little girl went to bed with a brand new butterfly quilt- and she felt sooo special that night.</p>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-22812591767251525292009-08-13T21:46:00.001-07:002009-08-14T08:07:26.570-07:00On the road again-<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; font-size:13px;">It seems I spend a good part of my life traveling to a different location. That happens when you move seven times in the first seven years of marriage, live overseas for 16 years, own two houses in different counties, and now have three grown children spread out over the United States. So, I'm on the road again. This time heading for Washington State to visit son #1, and have a mini vacation with my cousin. I have my faithful pup with me. Today she slept her way across western Alberta and eastern British Columbia. It wore her out. She has gone to bed for the night. She currently has a lovely little snoring rhythm going. I love that sound. Hope she gets her rest because she will have a full day of napping ahead of her tomorrow.</span>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-23811203526749353232009-08-05T11:02:00.001-07:002009-08-05T11:19:40.509-07:00Please tell me . . .<div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36824548@N06/3792862014/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3560/3792862014_30ab76e73f.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /></a><br /><span style=" margin-top: 0px;font-size:0.8em;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36824548@N06/3792862014/">IMG_2376</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/36824548@N06/">minerscreekmum</a>.</span></div><p>I am currently working on the "string quilt" which is kind of challenging time wise. Each square is paper pieced. That means that you cut a small square of "special" paper to the exact size before you line up the white piece carefully. Then you sew all the little strips from your scrape box on to make a beautiful fourth of a complete diamond. Next you meticulously and carefully remove the paper from the back without undoing any of your seams. Then you press it, hold it up and admire it before making the next of oh, say 48 of these. So . . . please tell me that if you had a little girl, this would be a wonderful gift to be given. Tell me how much fun you think all these pinks, oranges, and turquoise fabrics would be to wrap her up in and show her off. You know, tell me how adorable she would look all sleepy eyed in the crib sitting in the middle of her specially made string quilt. Ok? Thanks. It will be even prettier when quilted. </p>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-66276017835765802072009-07-31T20:17:00.001-07:002009-07-31T20:21:19.211-07:00Pretty Strip Quilt<div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36824548@N06/3777022528/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2553/3777022528_2facd495da.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /></a><br /><span style=" margin-top: 0px;font-size:0.8em;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36824548@N06/3777022528/">Pretty Strip Quilt</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/36824548@N06/">minerscreekmum</a>.</span></div><p>Just because it is so pink and pretty . . . I had to post a picture. It is draped on the ladder that leads to the sewing loft. The special, magical, no place I'd rather be, sewing loft. Ah, how I love to imagine all the projects that will find their way down from the loft to give to friends, charities, appreciative daughter, or nieces, or more . . . I love this hobby. Can't help myself.</p>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-65240081036236844282009-07-31T20:04:00.001-07:002009-07-31T20:04:41.318-07:00Two dogs on vacation<div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36824548@N06/3777009988/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2454/3777009988_1b30ea6689.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36824548@N06/3777009988/">IMG_2335</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/36824548@N06/">minerscreekmum</a>.</span></div><p>Moose and Tally went for one last swim before we left Colorado. They LOVE to swim in the ponds. I actually, finally . . . broke out my new wide angle lens for this shot. Now I love the lens! More pictures to come.</p>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-40179815051230706702009-07-19T13:01:00.001-07:002009-07-21T16:58:03.017-07:00Meet Willard<div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36824548@N06/3736431456/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2560/3736431456_a92013f90a.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /></a><br /><span style=" margin-top: 0px;font-size:0.8em;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36824548@N06/3736431456/">IMG_2237</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/36824548@N06/">minerscreekmum</a>.</span></div><p>This is Willard. He is a 40-year-old mule, but not just any 40-year-old mule. He has CHARACTER. See those two horses in the background. The reddish one is "Blaze" and Blaze is Willard's best bud. Where Blaze goes, so goes Willard. Don't try to take Blaze out on a ride leaving Willard behind to coast in the sun. No sir. No fence can hold Willard without his best bud. He is coming with Blaze one way or another, through the gate or through the fence. You can decide.<br /><br />We recently bought this 10 acre property adjacent to our own land. A wrangler friend of ours, Tom, has graciously allowed us to host Willard, Blaze and Lightening on our land. (Looks much better with 2 horses and a mule on the property). They are helping us by grazing off the land. They seem happy to oblige, especially since we throw in a few horse/mule biscuits now and then.</p>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-8608305005476737782009-07-06T21:13:00.001-07:002009-07-06T21:13:07.080-07:00Mountain Baby Quilts<div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36824548@N06/3692472250/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2668/3692472250_f6a670732a.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36824548@N06/3692472250/">IMG_2144</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/36824548@N06/">minerscreekmum</a>.</span></div><p>This one is for the Appalachian project. Just had to hang it on the porch to take the picture.</p>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-44918686817030742152009-07-05T18:24:00.000-07:002009-07-21T19:55:17.762-07:00Happy Sunday post 4th of JulyIt is Sunday. The dogs are washed. D took them to the auto-dog wash. When I asked him how it went he said, "it took a loonie to wash Moose and a toonie to wash Kathleen." LOL. Sorry Kathleen, dad didn't really take you to the dog wash as you are far away in North Carolina. But the image of it all made me laugh. You know he meant to say Tally, our other girl. Hey it isn't every person who gets to have a labrador named for her. It's special. <div><br /></div><div>I have been cleaning. My least favorite thing to do, next to cooking. My priorities go as follows: Dog walking, sewing, gardening, reading, walking for pleasure, walking to Starbucks, and then more dog walking and sewing. Now I may have to add bike riding to the list since I got a new bike yesterday! That was fun. David and I went to the bike store and I tried all kinds of bikes. I brought the one I liked home with me:)</div><div><br /></div><div>Summer is flying by in C. The weather is dreamy summer lovely. Beautiful flowers everywhere, people up and down our street sitting on porches, flea market every Sunday one block from our house, farmers markets that make me want to run out and buy 40 acres to grow my own everything . . . in between sewing and dog walking. </div>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-56887252556416680062009-05-27T06:38:00.001-07:002009-05-27T06:38:03.378-07:00Sadie's litter<div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36824548@N06/3554939011/" title="photo sharing"><img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3559/3554939011_a45bf7efb0.jpg" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" alt="" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/36824548@N06/3554939011/">Sadie's litter</a>, originally uploaded by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/36824548@N06/">minerscreekmum</a>.</span></div><p>Remember these guys and gals? I love the little puppy dog tails hanging in the back of the bench. No, I did not tie them down to get this picture. I did make some strange noises to keep them still. I can just see Candy thinking of jumping. Moose is looking calm and noble. Just thought I would post this for fun.</p>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-87256515249706330512009-05-11T12:03:00.000-07:002009-05-11T12:15:02.399-07:00Must be CrazyI spend hours "creating" things with beautiful fabrics. When I am not creating I am on Etsy looking at beautiful fabrics. I think I'm crazy. Yup. Crazy. I am not alone though judging by the blogs out there, and the Etsy shops. Sometimes though . . . I think I am losing it, or trying to recapture the days when I would see a lovely little floral fabric and turn it into something for K. She would look like she just stepped out of a storybook . . . little white collars and pretty jumpers. One friend of mine told me she learned how to dress her daughter by checking out what K wore everyday! I even smocked a bubble suit for P when he was a baby- in peach! Those were the days when I would walk Paul to school, run K to preschool, and our Egyptian housekeeper would take Peter for a lazy stroll about Maadi. (Who knew she was taking him to the Kiosk for orange soda and chips at 9 am? I learned that fact when he was about three years old!) Anyway, K had more lacy ankle socks, Laura Ashley blouses, and smocked dresses than she could ever wear. <div><br /></div><div>Time to walk the dogs.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-81903810347913039232009-05-06T06:39:00.000-07:002009-05-06T11:05:29.820-07:00Shock and ThawShock part: <div>Yes, I am posting two days in a row. This probably means that I am having "human interaction withdrawal" after being with child #3 for a month. It was nice to have a buddy for awhile again. After I posted yesterday I checked 4 times within half an hour to see if there was a comment, like someone was just waiting to send me a message. I don't think so.<div><br /></div><div>Thaw part: </div><div>It is actually a lovely spring day here in the city of the Great White North. The sun is shinning. Green leaves are peaking out on trees and shrubs. It is so easy to walk around the park now that I am not dealing with snow and black ice. Tally doesn't have to walk "carefully" anymore. It is hilarious to see a 55 lb. black lab gently taking baby steps so I don't take a spill on the end of HER leash. Gotta love a dog that will do that. No wonder they use labs for assistance dogs. Oh, and the giant rabbits have turned grey again instead of their winter white. And I do mean GIANT rabbits. </div><div><br /></div><div>So that's it. Just had to put some thoughts out on the web this morning.</div><div>Have a good day.<br /><div><br /></div></div></div>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-67669789495414266132009-05-05T15:33:00.000-07:002009-05-05T18:59:01.135-07:00Spring has sprung in the sewing loft.Hello again to my five faithful readers:)<div><br /></div><div>I am going to show you some pictures of what I have been doing. (Need to call K and ask her how to get better photos on my blog.) I feel like running to the store to get hanging baskets and bedding plants galore, but it is too soon here to do that. The neighbors tell us not to consider putting things out to grow and enjoy until after Memorial Day. My solution- to SEW a flower garden! Wala! I love sewing, and I spend many hours up in my little loft (much like an indoor treehouse) listening to podcasts and sewing away. I lose track of time because I get so involved in my projects. So, look to the right and see some quilt blocks (placed for now on some cream fabric) that will eventually become 10 times more lovely when they are set and quilted, and turned into something special. Really, they look so sweet after they are set and quilted, and become all old fashioned crinkly. Who will get this lovely textile garden to snuggle up in? I have no idea. I sew for the love of it. I am considering selling things on Etsy, but I am not sure. The little blocks are for a doll quilt. Doll quilts are my newest pleasure. They are so sweet, so cute, so little. Sigh. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-70231976454191322482009-03-27T15:49:00.000-07:002009-03-27T16:09:57.640-07:00Sewing and suchThis is what I have been doing the last couple of days (see pic at right). I'm making curtains for Kathleen's kitchen. I like the orange and green combination that she decided on. I am donating the quilt to the Christian Appalachian Project (CAP). A bunch of people who like to sew have decided to send quilts which are being handed out by the CAP. I think the last count was 118 that have been received. For the one you see at the right I just used a bunch of scraps on hand in my sewing room. The pattern is called "stacked coins." It is fun to make because anything goes! And it's fast. I like quilts that are not so fussy that you have to be afraid to use them. People out in blog land got motivated to make quilts for donation after the Diane Sawyer special about poverty in Appalachia. The people with CAP are happy for the help. Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-87445566196017915912009-03-10T07:12:00.000-07:002009-03-10T07:50:31.113-07:00Things I learned (or was reminded of ) from my kids:Warning: Some of it is heavy stuff.<br /><br />From my youngest son:<br /><br />Guys really ARE clueless, and doing their very best to understand women:)<br /><br />The things that people do that hurt us the most, are the most important things to forgive. <br /><br />When someone takes a risk with their life, we get really mad at them because they forced us to imagine our world without them around. This comes after we are so happy they are still here. Delayed reaction. <br /><br />It is entirely possible to have a chronic medical condition and remain genuinely cheerful. <br /><br />A smile is contagious, day after day. <br /><br /><br />From my oldest son:<br /><br />When things your spouse does drive you crazy, remember that they also do lots of things you like. <br /><br />Take life easy and enjoy the small stuff.<br /><br />No matter how little you have at times, you can still give back.<br /><br />There are many ways to view anyone, any action, or anything. Be careful not to judge.<br /><br />There is nothing like a kind heart.<br /><br /><br />From my daughter:<br /><br />Pretty girls can be engineers.<br /><br />It's Ok not to do everything perfectly.<br /><br />Life is for having a good time.<br /><br />It's Ok to be a woman and be confident, and very smart.<br /><br />Go for what you what. <br /><br />Laugh.<br /><br />Good food is important.Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-36515847443021184212009-03-06T14:23:00.001-08:002009-03-06T14:58:35.776-08:00Rambling at the airportOk, Ok, so I haven't posted anything in a month or so. Is anyone really going to notice? Well, Peter noticed. I just get sidetracked with other things that (to me) seem more pressing (like reading my quilting magazines, sewing, walking Tally, making any excuse to walk to the coffee shop, ice skating lessons, watching Oprah or Dr. Phil). I do wish I still had Jamilla because the vacuuming, cleaning and laundry won't go away. Half the time I forget about the laundry because the washer and dryer are so far buried in the basement. What can I say? I am still in the honeymoon phase of being back in a first world country, and in denial that I don't have a housekeeper. I have already digressed before even started.<div><br /></div><div>I am currently sitting in an airport on a 3 hour layover. I have watched my 30's rock episode and one of my Tutor episodes, had my Starbucks, and read most of my "O" magazine. I am charging up my computer so I can ration out one more episode of Tutors on the next leg of my journey. So, I will post. (Oh yes, and I tried to call my cousin but couldn't reach her. We are always good for at least a half hour of phone time. Usually more.)<div><br /></div><div>So, the topic begins as "Rambling at the airport." I have no idea how much airport time I have logged in my lifetime so far, but it has to be a bunch. I can tell you I don't miss those layovers that were middle of the night body time. I don't miss filling my suitcase with as much long life food as possible, and the 2 precious heads of lettuce I always tried to squeeze in at the last minute. I don't miss the coolers of meat that we had to disguise by loading inside a big duffle bag. No sir. I get my lettuce these days at Safeway or the local farmer's market. But those days of world travel did have their advantages. We saw a lot of the world, and our kids grew up understanding how different cultures can be. I am really glad the kids got to travel so much in their formative years. Oh yes, back to today . . . I am on my way to a wedding. It is my nephew's wedding. You know, I barely know any of my nephews or nieces, except Sarah Beth. I have two nieces and (let me count) seven nephews on my side of the family. Wow. Since we lived overseas for so many years we just never got together to get to know them. (I will just leave out the family dysfunction and all that . . . you know . . . stuff.) We just didn't get together. I am rather sorry not to know my nieces and nephews better. I am sure it would be fun to have more of a relationship with them, but I am trying to make those amends now every chance I get. So off to the wedding I go! I hope it will be fun. Weddings usually are, eh?</div><div><br /></div><div>One of these days I am going to write a post about Jamilla, Cowsar, and Margaret. Stay tuned. Umm. Time to check my downloads.<br /><div><br /></div></div></div>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-62774538462898413692009-01-21T06:24:00.000-08:002009-01-21T06:42:13.812-08:00Something new<div>I am taking ice skating lessons. Yes, you got it. At 52 fine years of age I am taking on the ice. I had my first lesson on Monday at the Olympic Oval, University of Calgary. It was so much fun! My teacher is a student who is trying to pay his way through school. He is full of energy and encouragement. I welcome a new way to burn up the calories and have some fun learning a new skill at the same time. <br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Speaking of winter sports . . . David and I had an amazing day of skiing last Friday. Perfect ski conditions, amazing views of the Canadian Rockies, and good fun speeding down the slopes. Sorry we didn't have good weather for it when the kids were here. K would have worn out her wide angle lens! </div><div><br /></div><div>Next lesson at the oval is today:) Curtis, my instructor, says he will have me flying around the ice in no time. Hooray for Curtis and his youthful enthusiasm!</div>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-46212276401173659812009-01-05T08:13:00.000-08:002009-01-05T09:42:50.297-08:00Sunday skiingYesterday my husband and I decided to get out for the day and go skiing. This year we have our own equipment and season ski passes. So we got all the gear together, put gas in the car, stopped for coffee and hit the road for the BIG Rockies. As we put on boots, helmets, and all our gear (once we arrived) I was reminded how much gearing up to ski reminds me of wrestling a calf (yes, I have wrestled a calf . . . long ago in the many rodeos my brothers and I were a part of). Then we clomped to the gondola and took the ride up the mountain. COLD. The gondola drops you off at base camp. From there several open four-person lifts branch further up the mountain. COLDER. It was a bit windy yesterday which makes for frozen toes and fingers. Though I have to say that my hands were warmer because of the mittens, with fleece mitten liners, with hand warmers inside. Can't say the same for my toes. Anyway, we skied. After the first couple of runs I felt a little better about it all. I would like to be one of those skiers who blows down the mountain . . . but I am not. I do pretty well. I don't fall and I don't look like a beginner. I am a decent intermediate. Actually, I like skiing with my daughter because we ski at about the same level. (I shall digress here for fun.) But I don't ski with my daughter too often. The last time was when we all went to Switzerland before the older kids were married. Said daughter and I were on a lift which stopped for a few minutes in completely exposed frigid terrain. She turns to me and says "just think mom, we cold be vacationing in the Cayman Islands right now." My sentiments exactly at that point in time! Ever since then we both remember that moment in time. It has come to be a descriptive phrase between the two of us. Code for how cold it is . . . rather like measuring temperatures in Fahrenheit, Celsius, or vacations spots where you would rather be. Makes sense to me. Hey, women understand these things, especially mothers and daughters. We were once on a chartered sailing vacation in the Grenadines when my daughter and I were soooooo seasick. I (regretfully now) turned to her and said "childbirth is worse." Bad move on my part. I didn't scare her enough to keep her from having children but let's just say she will never opt for natural childbirth. It's alright. I taught her early on that there is a very important phrase for every woman delivering a baby, "epidural, now!" <div><br /></div><div>That vacation is now referred to between my daughter and I as the "vacation from hell." The vacation when she and I were so desperate to feel clean that when we anchored near an island I went straight to some posh hotel and offered to pay $50 for a shower. The clerk looked at me like I was riffraff and turned my daughter and I away. Heartless soul. Thankfully we haven't had to pull out that measurement to describe anything else . . . not yet. Though my daughter does remind me that the food on that trip was amazing . . . a measure rarely equaled in dining experiences. You know, I'm thinking I could do a whole blog post on these types of measurements. Hmm.<div><br /></div><div>Back to yesterday. We had a pretty good ski day. We kept it fairly short since it was cold. The tired feeling once we were back home and warm was really nice. Today my muscles are sore. Also a good feeling. I used my body in a way that it needs to be used once in a while (rather than just using it to walk to Starbucks). I imagine I will be wrestling the calf again soon.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div></div></div></div></div>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8978364507510065307.post-76129233459487329612008-12-27T21:23:00.000-08:002008-12-27T21:26:29.675-08:00Almost the whole family<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnhnCpuJQ9Yrwx26C511u1YEYdUaeO0Axr3uNi-n43FYNKchn6b2LEX1WYovcavA8wOKJnqGGVyhfSvsQye_5UZXqc_VEdmLxBvCC8wmeKvlpBeZRKjF5RuuGRiU3YFbmVthScbGx3NqA/s1600-h/group7_BW.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnhnCpuJQ9Yrwx26C511u1YEYdUaeO0Axr3uNi-n43FYNKchn6b2LEX1WYovcavA8wOKJnqGGVyhfSvsQye_5UZXqc_VEdmLxBvCC8wmeKvlpBeZRKjF5RuuGRiU3YFbmVthScbGx3NqA/s320/group7_BW.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284707957961121282" /></a>Sherrihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05131736149947217370noreply@blogger.com0