Fleeting Thoughts:
My beverage of choice is coffee – either hot or cold. My biggest challenge is getting coffee stains out of handwork. My biggest disappointed is clumsiness.
I am a retired 44-year veteran of the Real Estate Assessment field. As with real estate assessing and how it applies to real estate taxes, one can make many acquaintances, but not many real friends. It was a great career choice.
It has been nearly 10 years since I reclaimed my home and my real passions within my home. I enjoy it more each day and tip my hat to those who I left behind.
Each day I try to stretch myself with the use of my computer as it relates to this site and using it to print out labels for quilts for trying to incorporate photos into my sewing. Life is so full and I know that I have room for more.
My beverage of choice is coffee – either hot or cold. My biggest challenge is getting coffee stains out of handwork. My biggest disappointed is clumsiness.
Having coffee on the patio this morning before the humidity and heat geared up, the sound of Morning Doves was welcomed. The cooing brought separate but similar memories to Dennis and me. The memories stemmed from days of early morning farming times. Getting dairy cows into the barn for milking went hand in hand with the soothing coos of the doves. Sharing the farming memories with each other this morning, speaks to the essence of our souls . . . peaceful, simpler times.
. . . in my own home. More specific, in my basement. I went down to shop for an item from our pantry in the basement. It’s just the handiest to have extra supplies on hand rather than having to make a trip to the grocery store for an item or two. The pantry used to be the cistern that held a supply of water from a well that was on the property. Dennis and his cousin, Bruce, via a jack hammer, created this nook than has become our pantry that could very well feed an entire family if need be.
With the pantry item in hand I stopped to put a few sewing items away that were laying on the table. Our 4-H gal’s project that we had been working on for the last month was finished and the tidying up had not as yet happened. I will add that last night at the 4-H style review her project took several well-deserved ribbons and awards as well as Reserved Grand Champion. Minnesota State Fair here she comes. Smiles all around.
As I put the sewing items away I noticed a thick folder that held some of my Mom’s quilt patterns. I pulled it off of the shelf and sat down at my sewing table. Here were her hand drawn patterns along with the fabric samples. I looked. I touched. I wiped a tear. My Mom. My hero. So much of my adult life’s skills are from her tutelage. The entire time a sewing project was under way with Mom, came the lessons of managing to have more than one iron in the fire, whether it was keeping tabs on something in the oven or dashing out to the clothes line when a rain shower popped up. There was never a sewing challenge that left Mom stumped. Patterns were cut out of sheets of the Hutchinson Leader newspaper if an alteration was needed. Her fingers that had become thick with arthritis could wheel those little stickpins just as if they were an extension of her own fingers. Priceless. Reluctantly I put the folder back in good order. I liked the feeling of calm I had from that folder and it just seemed the natural thing to wander further into my stashes of patterns and fabrics. Remembering the quilts that had left a few odds and ends of fabrics from each of the projects. The end result: I need to work up a scrappy happy quilt to use up the wonderful colorful bits of fabric that were left from the larger projects. Mom would agree.
It was a good thing Dennis was on the ball and decided to start the grill as supper time was right around the corner. I had spent the entire afternoon lost in my wonderful world of scraps, threads and more memories than I had expected. After I had come up from the basement to put the finishing touches on the supper table, I very well had to go back down to the basement for that pantry item that started all of this. All of this? It brought about the peace that passes all understanding.
In life, please remember to give and have no memory of it, or take and remember it always.
While making a batch of potato salad this afternoon – it took me back to a time as a child when we often had relatives pop in for an unannounced visit on a Sunday afternoon. It wouldn’t take Mom long and she had one kettle boiling eggs, another kettle boiling potatoes with the skins on and an onion ready to dice up. Out of the freezer a ring of homemade bologna was gotten out. Potato salad, ring bologna, pickles and cake made a perfect quick meal. No one ever left our farm home with an empty stomach. Sunday company never stayed late as everyone had a dairy herd that would need tending in the late afternoon. Good memories . . . good times.
I heard the coffee pot go off this morning at seven, and right after that I realized that hubby Dennis was getting dressed. What happened to having coffee in P.J. pants out in the porch? I knew what the morning would hold. Sure enough. By 10:30 the acre had been mowed and both my push mower and Dennis’ rider were in need of being gassed up for next week’s mowing. Gotta bless that man’s heart for enjoying a yard that looks tidy.
Comes the Dawn
After awhile you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that no matter what kind of love, love doesn’t mean security,
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts and presents aren’t promises
And you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open,
With the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child,
And you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain.
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure . . .
That you are really strong,
And you really have worth
And you learn and learn with every day you learn.
Author Unknown
Dennis and I had a road date today. Now the the enjoyment of being home safe and sound is the peace that passes all understanding.
It’s a holiday weekend and this year as in the last 46 years it has a special place in my heart.
46 years ago today, my mother-in-law, Esther Schafer from Hector ask me to take her to see her friend Mrs. Conner in Redwood Falls. From Boon Lake Township three year old Carrie and I headed for Hector to pick up Esther. The hours drive was spent with Carrie talking off Grandma’s ear and showing her storybooks as she was tucked between Esther and me. At that time seatbelts and youth car seats were not standard equipment as they are today. The day was sunny and the drive was uneventful. It was to be the last road trip I had planned with Esther as I was just at the nine month of my pregnancy.
After an afternoon of chit chat the three of us told Mrs. Conners we needed to head for home. Carrie’s dad would soon be starting the late afternoon barn chores and I would be driving into our driveway just about the time that the 300 laying hens would be expecting me to fill the ground feed containers. Carrie always helped filling a pail with oats from the bin for the hens, but was not about to enter the hen house with all the fluttering of wings.
As we were on the out skirts of Redwood Falls, Esther wanted to treat us and we made a swing into the Hardee’s for a quick stop. On the way back out to the car I stubbed my shoe on an uneven sidewalk block and was able to catch myself just before I hit the concrete. By the time we were nearing Hector I knew that that tumble had tipped me into labor. Esther agreed to come out to the farm with me as she didn’t want Carrie and me to make the rest of the drive alone.
Orlin was in the dairy barn when we arrived and it didn’t take long before plans on our farm needed to be changed. Esther stayed with Carrie while Orlin took me to the Hutchinson Hospital. Orlin and I agreed that I would get checked in and he would go back to the farm to get the evening milking of the dairy herd done a bit earlier than usual. Though my parents only lived several miles away, they also had milking to do but agreed to come over as soon as they were done to finish up the last of the livestock chores.
Orlin made it back to the hospital in time for Kevin Michael Schafer to be born at 8:15 p.m. Orlin took Grandma Schafer back to Hector a little later than we had planned, but she was included in the mix of all the excitement. Priceless.
Today will always be a red letter day even if the 4th of July Celebrations ceased. Just as it had happened on a certain October 17th, 1965 when Carrie arrived in my life, my world would thereafter always spin a bit faster. For the rest of my days on earth, every day of my life will include God’s blessings to me. I can’t imagine it any other way.
Happy Birthday Kevin.
This afternoon a huge project was finished. For the past months I have been helping a 16-year-old 4-H gal with her sewing project for the dress review that is held in conjunction with the Watonwan County Fair. Anticipations were high, both on the 4-H member as well as on myself. Plans were made and the pattern and fabric that were purchased arrived on StaufferAvenue. As the pattern was aligned on the fabric, second thoughts began to be felt on both of our parts. The depth of the tailoring was very detailed, and after all, wasn’t the end game to be an enjoyable project? A time out was called.
A second pattern was purchased, and with lighter hearts, the the fabric was cut and the steps began just like the pattern guide led us through the project. The hourly visits soon saw steps that were new for the student, but were met with determination.
During the process that was going on in my sewing room, my mind went back to the days when my Mom was a 4-H leader working with the clothing projects. I was in awe how foreign the sewing process was to some of the girls in the Boon Lake 4-H Club. I had been at Mom’s elbow from small on as the treadle sewing machine sewed miles upon miles of seams in clothing for the family. The printed fabrics, many times, were printed feed sacks for shirts, pajamas for the four of us kids, aprons and pillow cases. It was all very wearable clothes for Calvin, Michael and myself to make use of whether it was for at home or for school as the three of us went to Renville County District 34 county school. My sister, Elvera, was six years older than me and Mom purchased fabric for her garments as she attended town school. High school peer pressure was just as tough then as it is now.
When I transferred from country school to town school to begin 8th grade, Home Economics Class was a cinch for me. When the second half of the school year was devoted to sewing, the country girl from Boon Lake became popular as I could help the other gals with their projects. I don’t recall how many set in sleeves I did for some of my classmates. The proof of my Mom’s instructions over the years was the style show for grades 8 – 12th. Let’s just say that it was the first time in my young life I was given roses and was able to wear a tiara, even if it was for just that night.
During the next summer I was a live-in hired gal taking care of three kids, washing, ironing and cooking in Hutchinson. I worked from Sunday night to Friday night for $15 a week. I manged to purchase my supplies and get my 4-H dress for the McCloud County Fair done at nights. Betty and Ed Neimitz took over their family after I had supper dishes done and Betty let me use her sewing machine. The dress was a dusty lime green wool with an empire waist. I loved that dress. Ironically, decades later Betty Neimitz lived in the same senior housing complex as my mom. She would share details with my mom as to how I managed to contend with three kids from ages 2 to 8 at the age of 16. It was a great learning experience.
Fast forward to this afternoon and the climax of a sewing adventure here on Stauffer Avenue. When I said much was learned, I was speaking of myself. Knowing what to do and how to do it is one thing. To extend that knowledge using words was indeed a challenge. At times I would assist by showing proper placement, but from the very beginning I did say I would not sew any portion of the garment. This was to be a project to grow patience and understanding of how to go from yardage to garment − complete with buttons and button holes and . . . a good fit.
Oh yes, much was learned. I got a sweet thank you and an invite to attend the dress review style show next week. It will be fun to see my student as well as all the girls and the garments that they are proud of.
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