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Noreen 5:15 pm on April 13, 2019 Permalink

Finally
After missing my walk for the three days of the snow situation, this morning I finally got to suit up and head out on the Hammond Hwy for my two miles. It was chilly, I grant you that. The north wind made sure I knew that walking against it on the way home would make my nose run.

Dennis had had his oatmeal by the time I got home. I needed to catch my breath first. I did wind down by stripping a bed and starting the laundry. Oh yes, my oatmeal was much appreciated when I sat down with the steaming bowl that wafted the cinnamon aroma.

When I reflect on a day such as this one, I am thankful that my Lord has given to His children strong hearts. He has made sure that our heart within us is the strongest muscle that he created. The heart can withstand a barrage of physical challenges, and emotional heartache that could rock us to our core. It continues to beat for us to carry on with the life that He has set out for us. It is an amazing one-ness of the our heart and our soul. He raises us up. With His hand on our shoulder . . . we endure. We seek the path that leads us to Him. We thrive to leave the earthly pain in His hands so we may put it in perspective as we lay our head down in rest to greet the next day.
Noreen 12:00 pm on March 28, 2019 Permalink

The Rest of The Story
The fall of 2018 when Kevin and Kersten were cleaning up their garage, I received a text. In essence, they needed to part with a few things. In the rafters of the garage was apparently a box containing an old Santa that had been used in the bank lobby in Fairfax and it had been discarded right into Kevin and Kersten’s laps. It was more than 50 years ago that Santa had made his first appearance in Fairfax. So the text went on to ask what I thought should be done with Santa. I suggested he be given a rest and perhaps be done away with. I recall that there was hesitation and perhaps a few “but” words. I could tell, that was not the response that Kevin was the happiest with. Dennis and I finally agreed we would come and take it home with us and store it in the back garage as Dennis thought it would be fun to put it in the patio door windows of the patio porch come the Christmas season.

When we arrived in Fairfax, neither Dennis or I was prepared for this coffin-sized box to be presented to us. It took up the entire length of the pickup bed. It was totally tied shut with twine and that was sure needed as the box was in horrible shape. Off to St. James we went with . . . we really had no idea what we were taking home with us.

Of course when we got home, the box did not go into the back garage. Dennis’ curiosity got the best of him and into the patio porch it went. He was like a kid at Christmas that just so happened to have Santa right there in his porch! Santa was to turn at the waist and wave to all the world. No go. Off came the old velvet suit and an investigation proceeded. After all was said and done, Santa did get some of his mobility back and he did get to rest in the back garage until Thanksgiving of the 2018 season when Dennis had him in the patio porch, right on target.

When Kevin and Kersten were here in the early part of January, it was agreed that Santa had to go back in the box until the 2019 Christmas season. I took a good look at the less than appealing suit that had weathered fifty plus years. Before Kevin returned the bulk of Santa to his box, I had the hat and jacket that I took down into the sewing studio. It was time for a new suit. The quest was on to gather materials. I was not going to start until I had everything at home.

When Dennis left on his month long road trip with nephew Brett the first of February, I began my project. A lot of quiet time was needed. It was frightening to make that first cut into the velvet yardage we had bought. One day at a time. The stitching went slow as velvet creeps and crawls away from being anything but friendly for nice even seams. When Dennis returned home the first of March, Santa needed to be relocated into my sewing studio for fittings. It was now getting serious. My goal was that as long as there was snow on the ground, I would work on the ole boy. Once the weather would be good, I had plans to be outside. Mother Nature took care of that! Today is the 28th of March and our backyard still has snow. The project was going to get done!

I took photos as I went of what had been so I would be able to take it step by step. I think every attachment that I had on my sewing machine was used. I was frightened of the face and the beard and the mustache and the hat. When I looked at the old photo, I had no idea how I was going to work with the head. For one thing, the face was just as filthy as the old suit has been. I dug out my Tri-Chem oil paints that I have had since Carrie and Kevin were babies and thought about how to put a face on Santa as many of the features had come off with the grime.

What really had me bummed out was the beard and face hair. Videos were of some help. I knew that all the holes on the head and face were because staples had been used mercilessly. Armed with material that I had ordered I began, head down and never doubted that it would work out the first time . . . no do-overs and most importantly . . . no staples. All in all, I like the look of the New Santa face. I can see an expression, where before it was a pile of fiberglass angel hair way in excess of what was needed.

From the tip of his hat to his patent leather boots that have been cleaned, I believe this Santa is going forward for a few more years. He is mobile. For my part if the motor does give out, he still looks like he could take center stage. About the second week into this project, I thought I had bit a fat hog in the butt. It did help that I was home alone with my thoughts and pondering. I marvel at the manufacture’s skeleton. It is durable. I hope you all enjoy clicking on the photos for a larger image of The Santa Project. Dennis has checked on the photos several times and he believes from start to end, it was a hit out of the park. It is finished and this was the rest of the story.
Noreen 4:13 pm on March 19, 2019 Permalink

The Walk
It’s not just the walk that I strive to do everyday . . . it’s my walk. The hymn comes to mind, “Just a Closer Walk With Thee.” For the two miles and however long it takes, I have a chance to spend visiting with God. I think on times past, the now and the future.

Reflecting can’t change anything that has been done. My best bet is that in reflecting, I may avoid doing some of the same things that caused me to stumble then and enhance the things that were a positive in my life in times ago.

Taking full advantage of today and all it brings forth is such a gift. The gift may bring tears of hurts. The gift may bring tears of humility. The gift may bring tears of joy. It is a gift of perhaps new opportunities I do not want to waste. It’s my gift for today and I take it gladly with the prayer that I have many more such gifts allowing for personal improvements as well. As Lena would tell me when she was getting on in years, “I can still look for signs of improvement in you.” Yes, Mom, I can still hear you.

The future can seem so daunting. It can bring fear. It can bring worry. Those two items are the hardest to tell the Lord to do what he thinks is best for me and for my loved ones. At the age I am, I still struggle in allowing him to take it as his own. He is there 24/7. I, on the other hand, need a good night’s rest. As I don’t have a bucket list, each day becomes my future. I always pray that I do with it, the best that I can within my power. This I pray Lord, in Your name. Amen.
Noreen 6:54 pm on February 25, 2019 Permalink

Checking out Resources
An embroidery design had been haunting me to try. When a design is downloaded, it could come from a source that champions a certain brand of thread. Every company puts their own spin on the names that they assign to each color of thread. My aunt has invested in multiple brand names . . . not this stitcher. My brand is Isacord and I am sticking with it. It does happen to be the brand of thread that Bernina touts. If I buy a design from the website that they support, the color codes match what is in my thread boxes. Today . . . I was on my own looking up sites that do have thread comparisons from various companies. It just took time and I had it to burn.

After I got the machine to begin stitching, there is that time where I can fill in with dusting in the sewing room, checking out the next great attempt, etc, until it is time to change the color of the tread to continue the stitch project. Out came the drawer that is all about holes. A review was needed. Holes punched into any and every venue you can think of. The pretty pink tool is called a Crop-a-Dial. It will set snaps, grommets and also punch holes. My best luck is using it for punching holes as it will take on leather, vinyl, cork and multiple layers of paper. My hands don’t work the best to line up the snaps and such with the settings while still having a firm grip on the pliers handle. The Cricut Silent Setter also does holes as well as having a soft bed for snaps and such and the fabric to lay while I use a mallet to pound the hell out of the steel handle to crimp the metal items secure. While the sewing machine embroidered, I reacquainted myself with all the resources that the drawer held. Yup, it was still all viable and usable according to what my hands could do.

When Carrie and Kevin were babies and toddlers, there was no end to snaps that I put into their clothes. Entire inseams of their clothes were snapped, as it was quicker to undo the snaps in the inseam than take off the entire garment to change diapers or training pants. These fancy tools that I now have were not in my world at that time. It was more like a metal punch and a hammer to set the snaps.

With that being mentioned, I have gone to several baby showers in the last year. Oh my gosh! The fancy knit clothing that looks more like doll clothes than baby clothes . . . it is unbelievable. What struck this old timer was . . . no snaps in the inseam. Nothing like wrestling a wee one out of a one-piece item of clothing to get to that sweet little butt.

I do have to add that when I opened my eyes at eight this morning, the first thing that my eyes focused on was the snow that was falling, much like confetti. Yuck. Not enough to warrant Randy and his snowblower, but I did shovel snow out of doorways and my all time favorite paths. We are on the last week of the month from hell. Ya, I heard. March may have a bit of snow left that needs to harass my ass.
Noreen 5:00 pm on February 21, 2019 Permalink

The Table
Sun shining and whether the temperatures want to cooperate, the birds sure are singing. Spring is on its way whether Mother Nature likes it or not. All that I am doing today is working with ice build up right at the back door. We have a bag called Safe Walk, it is a derivative of corn. I use it sparingly as I have no idea where we bought it quite a few years ago. Sprinkle a little . . . let it work. When the bare concrete shows, I move the slush of it to the next spot. I know as soon as the sun goes down, ice will materialize as we have snow melting down onto the back door. Tomorrow we will do it all over again.

Most of today I have spent at our dining room table. No . . . we don’t have a dining room. We have an expanse of an area that serves as a living room, dining room and office. The table was purchased at a garage sale many years ago. It was the first table in the home that Dennis and I built. It needed a new piece on top of quartersawn Oak. A fellow here in town did a great job on it. Dennis and I refinished it and it has been in service every day since in our home. It is called a refractory design as both ends pull out for additional table surface. Why on earth do we need a table that pulls out to 72 inches in length? For me every home needs a table of serviceable size, even if the two of us use only a small portion of it.

When I was growing up there were six sets of feet under a round Oak table. Untold number of loaves of bread were rolled out and pit into pans on the surface. School work was done on the table while Mom darned socks. Mom prepared her Sunday School lessons at the table. If a home perm was to be given, all the paraphernalia was spread out on the table. Dad spread out and read multiple issues of The Farmer magazine at the table after the milk cow chores were done. The table was an extension of the sewing area as the treadle sewing machine was just a few feet from it. Card games were played at the table when aunts and uncles visited. The less desirable duty it served was when I had buckets of chicken eggs to wash so they would be ready for the egg hauler. Dang, some of those hens would poop in their nests. Yuk! That Oak table could fill a library of tales.

No matter where Orlin and I lived, the table was always where we gathered. When the kids were small, they were tied into the highchair and slid up to the table to take part. Later on, four sets of feet were under the table for all meals. The table was used when we made sauerkraut in the farm kitchen in Boon Lake Township. The kids were in charge of tamping the kraut into the quart jars. When an apple press was present, . . . yup, the kitchen table was there getting splattered with sticky juice that didn’t get into the jars. Poultry was always raised to be butchered for the freezer. Nothing like a table to take care of the evisceration. As the kids got older, when Carrie and Kevin were home alone during a meal time, most likely it was in front of the television. Why not give the table a break! Carrie cut out fabric on the table from patterns that she would put under the needle of the sewing machine. Kevin used the table when he worked on his Cub Scout Pinewood Derby cars. Thread, fuzz or sandpaper dust . . . the table took the brunt. Nicks and scars were taken in stride. The table was the center of the family.

That may well describe why now, on Stauffer Avenue, we have a huge table in a space that could very well utilize a card table. Our table has scars on it. A pocket knife seemed just the right tool to try and loosen a rusted screw. The pocket knife spared the finger and the table got the nasty end. The rotary cutter that I used for fabric piecing happened to run off of the cutting mat during a time when I didn’t have a sewing studio. On second thought, a hot pad should have been used to spare the finish of the table. Who knew that one of the metal boxes that Dennis has spare gun shells in had a sharp corner. The table, just as our house, is here to be a part of our day-to-day living. The wear and tear that the table may show can be seen as badges of those who live here or may have visited here . . . our home. Why would we save it and shelter it so it can remain pristine? This table, in the home on Stauffer Avenue, represents all the tables that have gone before and makes for wonderful memories of my life worth nurturing.

Today, I spent the day at the table, cutting out pieces of a project yet to be. Priceless!
Noreen 4:29 pm on January 30, 2019 Permalink

Accepting the Cold
There is nothing more to do than acknowledge the cold and get on with the day. No point in grumping about it. The sun is bright and there are some that are having it worse than us by far. I do not believe Dennis’ furnace is even able to have a shutting down point for a break in the patio porch. The thermostat doesn’t go below 45 degrees. No way are we going to shut it off. We will endure and be thankful for all that could break down in the cold and has not.

The deer returned last night for their shell corn. That in itself was a bright spot. Dennis had moved the top of the bird bath so it was right in line with what can be seen from our east bathroom window. What a wonderful sight to take in as they were eating. It was colder than I thought we should be out . . . but . . . with Dennis going to be gone for his road trip coming up on the 3rd of February, we headed to Fleet and Farm. There now is close to 150 lbs of shell corn in the garage. I will be able to put out corn while Dennis is gone. How cruel that would be to have food for them and then stop feeding them.

I knew that today I was going to pack away the contents of the plastic tub that has been under my bed for thirteen years. We had purchased a plastic Fisher Price doll house and the contents for it when Megan was two. Megan stayed with us for more wonderful times than I can count to. The doll house was in our closet and the tub for the contents under the bed: close at hand in a heartbeat for hours of pretend play.

Megan made trips with me to the Fleet and Farm store when she visited. From the time her little nose could reach the display for the Schleich small plastic animals that the store sold, I was suckered in. Two at a time. The doll house would become an animal hospital or a people hotel. We got our monies worth.

When Nicholas came along and both kids would stay with us, Megan clued him in. A trip was made to the Fleet and Farm store. They each would pick out two animals. Over the thirteen years the doll house was played with and the animal collection fit into three empty ice cream pails.

I digress: I emptied the tub of the doll house furniture onto the sewing tables in the basement. I made sure the batteries were taken out of the several items that had them in. Of course I had to push the buttons and hear the melodies. I had to push the steering wheel of the doll house family car to hear it honk as I maneuvered the family members into their seats, fastening their seat belts. The doll house family consisted of a mom, a dad, a young boy, two twin babies and a gray haired grandma. I carefully tucked all the pieces in place . . . and my tears rolled. I couldn’t help it. It evoked so many sweet memories. It was time to move on.

I took a photo with my camera and then sent the photo and a text message to Megan, letting her know that the doll house family was moving on until such time that perhaps they would find a place in her home some day. Yes, I was still weepy. I had no more than put the tub and the doll house into their storage place when I got a text back from Megan. “Aww 🙂 Hugs too! I’m getting my driving permit today!”

Talk about an ironic twist to the day. I moved on and put the doll house memories away and Megan is just beginning to move on into a whole new dimension in her world making for more new memories to share with her Grammie. I love it! There is much to accept in our days, be it the cold or realizing that Megan and Nicholas are growing up on me. Yes . . . much to take in and much to enjoy.
Noreen 2:28 pm on January 13, 2019 Permalink

No Slack Time Here
Sunday doesn’t always mean a day of rest. But who is to say that Sunday can’t be a day of being busy and feeling good. What’s not to like about feeling really good!

First thing off the bat: I am totally using my old Dell laptop here in the sewing studio until I get the HP Notebook into the GEEK squad on Tuesday. Passwords are specific. When keys don’t respond, passwords typed in error can get you locked out of a site. Not to worry. The HP will still get a workout in the living room until Tuesday, as Dennis likes to play Candy Crush on it. It is the only computer in the house of the three of them that had it loaded automatically. Dennis doesn’t like to play it via Facebook.

I enjoy my sewing studio as you all know. For as much time as Dennis is down here I know he enjoys the ambiance of it. He may be playing solitaire on the Dell laptop down here or enjoying watching television while rocking away in the rocker. Hmm. Today I stretched Dennis’ options. I have the serger up and running like a top. I cleared it with Carrie and Jeremy about cloth dinner napkins to be made out of cotton. Jeremy said the poly napkins just smeared everything around on hands and face. I can see that happening easily as there is no absorption.

I causally asked Dennis if he would like to try his hand at it. Initially he thought he would just screw things up. I encouraged and he sat down at it. The cloth I had cut up was a Christmas checked with definite lines to follow under the pressure foot. Two odd ball spare pieces of fabric to practice on . . . over and over. By George, “I think he’s got it.” It is very good eye-to-hand coordination as well as foot control to machine operation. It’s nothing that has a time frame. It is just another option when the day may go slow in winter weather. By the way . . . there are multiple coffee breaks down here.

Today was the day I cut into my piece of cork for Nicholas’ wallet. Why would I think I needed to try this? I think Kevin’s grandmother, Esther Schafer, was in the same boat when she cut up pop cans into rectangles featuring the brand and flavor of the drink to make Kevin a hat. I believe they were all Sprite cans as I recall the green. Esther would punch holes all around the aluminium rectangles and to allow crocheting around each one. Each one was joined via crocheting to make a circular hat. The final step was to crochet a brim. THIS is what grandmothers do!

Yesterday I contrived a pattern for the wallet. It wasn’t very easy on the eyes but it allowed me the comfort I needed before cutting into my cork fabric. Cork fabric isn’t like walking into JoAnn Fabrics and asking for a yard or two. It is by the inch. I voiced my concern to Dennis. He nonchalantly said it maybe would need a new piece to be bought if I screwed up. I love how the ole cowboy thinks. It does bring confidence and comfort. After taking steps one at a time, I do have a completed wallet. Is is perfect . . . no. Is sewing on the cork fabric a lot different than fabric . . . yes. What did I learn? Changing pressure feet on the sewing machine is important. When sewing flat seams, the quarter inch metal foot worked great as most seams are 1/8″. Sewing around the covering I put on the snap, I had to use the zipper foot as to stay off on the far edge. I should have made the covering for the snap a bit larger to be able to stay farther from the bulk of the snap. That would have allowed for better control, thus a better finished look. On the finishing stitch around the entire project, I should have started at the notched slot that allows for the wallet to fold and gone around from there rather than starting on the side. The stopping and starting more than once going around the wallet allowed for more threads to be clipped and that could have been avoided.

This may be my wallet to use as a sample on the real cork fabric. I think I learned enough to warrant cutting into another piece and ya . . . I am a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to sharing from what my needle produces.

So anywho . . . Dennis and I didn’t rest on this Sunday, but in visiting over a cup of afternoon coffee, we both learned a lot about what we can challenge ourselves to do and thus feel good about the learning experience. Yup . . . we should never say never and should never cease the learning process.

One last note today: Dennis commented on how much he enjoys the days when Kevin and Kersten come with their vehicle full of tools. Whether it was the removal of our house chimney, getting the I beam planted into our yard so Kevin could secure our vintage garage to it, or watching him paint hands on a clock. Dennis says he always comes out ahead as by watching the processes he does glean something he didn’t know before their visit. It’s a good thing!
Noreen 5:18 pm on January 6, 2019 Permalink

Gloomy Skies
The sun had been so welcomed the last several days. I cracked open one eye this morning and saw fog. The eye went shut and I stayed where I was. Dennis and I both slept until nine this morning. We agreed last night that today was going to be a slow quiet day and I dare say we were off to that great start.

Yesterday when Kevin was here I asked him to see if he could get one of my computer keys to pop off as it was AWOL. Today I took his advice. I called the GEEK squad in Mankato. I have a year-by-year service contract with them. Five minutes in, I had the solution. The next time we travel to Mankato I need to turn in my HP Notepad to the squad. They will need to send it in and a new keyboard will be installed in the unit and then it will be sent back to me. When Dennis and I do make a trip to Mankato with the HP in hand, I will be sure to back it up on my independent Click Free backup unit. No fees required. Of course I had one more question: as long as the keyboard needed to be replaced could they put in a silver colored unit rather than black, which is easier to see. The answer was, no. But . . . on the upside, the keys that no longer bare the appropriate letters as they have worn off will be an automatic fix. Wonderful!

With a solution in the future I headed down into the sewing studio. More years than I care to admit, I purchased several Damask table clothes on a Pamida clearance table. I am no longer doing full sized table clothes for gatherings. Placemats are easier for me. I cut one of the table clothes up and made place mats out of it. I did some cross-hatching to make them double thick and a bit more durable. I went on YouTube and realized that many gals put on a serger edge. This gave me a chance to up and use the serger that I had been given. Today, I decided to see how the placemats would cotton to an embroidery design. I am not disappointed by the results. If I do continue using the Damask tablecloths for smaller projects, I need to use a more dense stabilizer as it would allow the dense stitching to lay a bit smoother. Would I hesitate using a placemat of this quality as it’s finished? No.

A good day of seeking and searching for answers near and far and leaving the gloom outside to its own.
Noreen 3:43 pm on December 24, 2018 Permalink
Tags: Megan ( 9 )

Megan’s Clouds
With passing birthdays that Dennis and I have enjoyed, our needs are minimal and having nothing to do with material items. Each year we seem to live a bit more minimalistic. It feels good. The “extras” that we do have in our home are these: that we have an emotional attachment to our own personal history, the handmade items from family, or those that have come from my creativity.

Families know that our Christmas is a celebration of knowing that those self same families are safe, happy and being good to each other. That’s all we wish for and that is what we want Santa to assure us with. Our request is that being thought of is all the gift that we need and we really feel good when family members honor that.

As Dennis and I ruminate over family members during the course of the year we keep our eyes and ears open. We get the biggest bang out of doing for some that we hope will be surprised. We can feel like Santa Claus!

At Megan and Nicholas’ home on Saturday after having enjoyed a good meal, the time went to visiting about what was going on in their schedules. I could not keep up with it, I can tell you straight out. It seemed ages ago when we could have either one of the two kids or both of them for a period of several days. As soon as the kids hit school age, the trips to get them from Eden Prairie became less. We never minded the miles on the highway, we were scoring time with the kids. Carrie and Jeremy had just as many miles under their belts as we did. Priceless.

The afternoon was winding down when Megan came to me with a white bag. “Grammie, this is from me to you.” I was blown away and touched to the bottom of my Grammie heart. Inside the bag was a ceramic rendition of a cloud factory.

Megan’s Cloud Factory

Believe me there is a story behind this: Megan was born in a December. The summer of the next year, Megan could come and stay without a worry or a bother to her in getting homesick. Granted, it is a long two hour drive when the little squirmy butt is tied down in a car seat with only mile after mile going by the window in the backseat of our car. It wasn’t long in that summer that there were two and three word sentences coming from the backseat. Cruising down Minnesota State Highway 60, out of the backseat came “Cloud factory!” Dennis and I looked at each other. “Look! Cloud factory.” Megan spotted the sky full of the steam billowing out of the stacks of the ethanol plant right out of Lake Crystal. Well . . . from then on it was dubbed “The Cloud Factory.” When Nicholas came along in their family and they would both be in the backseat coming to our home, you know he was tipped off when we were getting close to “The Cloud Factory.”

Megan Lena turned 15 on December 2nd, which is my Mom Lena’s birthday. Somewhere when her and her mom were out and about, there to her amazement was a cloud factory just meant to be found by Megan. “The Cloud Factory” will be the most treasured “extra” in our home for as long as I live. That little piece of ceramic can evoke more memories than a small library. I took the card that was with it and the back of that card now has a synopsis of its special meaning. I tucked that card in the hollow of ‘The Cloud Factory” for it to remain there forever. Not to worry, I will be building my stash of memories that will involve everyone of my family for years to come. Some of those memories when I share them, bring a light in their eyes of awareness. It is in their library of memories as well. Priceless!
Noreen 3:32 pm on December 17, 2018 Permalink
Tags: Jake, Laura ( 2 ), Michael ( 11 )

What a Treasure
The UPS fellow dropped off a great delivery on Saturday. It was from my brother Michael’s daughter, Laura, and her husband, Jake.

Michael had taken up Dad’s love of all things wood, complete with the sawmill on the farm. With the loss of Michael in November, 2018, the sawmill site became silent and perhaps not remain as such. On a visit since that time Laura and Jake had been back at the farm and revisited some of Michael’s haunts on the farm place. Picking up bits and pieces around the sawmill, Laura and Jake began hatching a plan.

I grew up on the farm that Michael and JoAnn had made their home for 45 years. They knew that I would always refer to that as still my home, as from the age of five on this was “My home.” Michael and JoAnn allowed me that liberty. Laura and Jake allowed me to have a piece of “My home” complete with all the character that Michael and the sawmill had created. Looking at the clock I can almost hear and smell the saw blade cut through this piece of Black Walnut leaving the markings for the life of what had been deemed discarded. Not so! This was and will always be special to me.

This is why the trip to Mankato was essential to Dennis yesterday. A shelf was in his wheel house for Michael’s clock to sit upon. He needed hardware brackets for a board he had found in our basement. I stayed out of the picture in total in regard to his staining of the wood to the point that he thought it was ready. This morning I had a chiropractor appointment as well as visiting the grocery store. The shelf project was Dennis’ in total, complete to where the clock and the shelf would be within our home.

When I came home there was a bit of plaster on the floor and a few screws of various sizes on the kitchen counter. The project had been completed. Dennis admitted he was wore out. My poor ole cowboy had worked far beyond his pay grade. Multiple marks for screws on the board and also a few unused marks on the wall. A trip to Fleet and Farm for the right screws and broken drill bit also was in his story. Dennis’ first ever solo wood project and it was the frosting on the cake.

A clock had been made with unconditional thought and love and a shelf put up out of inexperienced woodworking love for me. I have said it before, life on Stauffer is sweet. I am feeling pretty darn special. The clock and Dennis are definitely treasures.