The beginning of the last long holiday weekend of the summer. Our surprise was a visit from the metro kids. Carrie, Megan and Nicholas spent the afternoon with us. What a treat. Megan had a sewing project that we needed to get nailed down so that when she went to purchase her fabric she would get the proper amount of yardage. It is hard to believe that she will be having her 15th birthday in December. The teachers will have a challenge with Nicholas. What happens between the ears comes so easily to him. Nicholas will be 10 in November and has a kind spirit. The need to compete while participating in sports does not interest him. Right now he is anticipating playing golf next season as he and his dad got quite a few rounds in this late summer. While Megan thrives with ice skating events that she had this summer, Nicholas’ highlight was kayaking on various lakes in their area. This visit will be the last for some time as the school year will be off and running on the 4th of September. It was a great day.
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Noreen
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Noreen
Megan’s Woodworking Project
Megan is in 7th grade and there is no longer a class called Home Economics. I remember my friends Renee telling me about this when her Gabby was in junior high school. It is now a varied year that does include woodworking, some DIY, no cooking or baking, but with some sewing, weaving and sketching. I need to ask Carrie what this course is actually called. This was the last year that Nicholas’ school class would be doing anything for Valentine’s Day. He was so over making paper valentines and coming up with unique wording. At that time Jeremy helped Nicholas with a candy vending machine to have candy for his classmates. The plans were developed in the workshop in February. There was nothing stated in the class curriculum that it had to be an original, just that it included wood. For Megan it had to be a a home project detailed with photos of the various stages of work and a descriptive report followed by the finished project. It was Megan’s turn to get herself full of saw dust and a bit of glue and wood stain. Megan also told me she had never really looked at her dad’s shop before this. Jeremy may find it a bit crowded in his workshop in time to come. Fun times with their dad.
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Noreen
So it Begins
Today was the beginning of a wonderful weekend. Carrie came with Megan and Nicholas from the metro. Will those two kids ever stop growing! Megan and Nicholas were on Spring break and Carrie was in-between showing clients prospective homes. Nicholas and Grandpa Dennis had some serious conversations in the patio porch while Snuggles got some extra TLC from Nicholas. Megan shared with me a software program that allows her to do intricate drawings on her laptop that then can be printed out. Carrie and I caught up with each other and l may well have a plan for some embroidery projects. Just a fantastic day. There is more to come as Kevin and Kersten will be here on Sunday. The gray days and clouds don’t stand a chance of putting a damper on the weekend.
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Noreen
Today I had to do it. The “Noel” quilted wall hanging needed to be retired. I could no longer convince myself it stood for “Noreen’s Office of Elegant Living.” I chose a wall hanging that my grandmother Laura had started in the early 1960s and I finished it several winters ago. Pink butterflies work in the spring season.
As I dug through my stash of strings and yarn to use as a carrier after the wall hanging of the butterflies placket was strung onto a piece of decorative trim, much like a curtain rod . . . come on . . . you knew I would have such a stash, Esther Schafer came to mind.
She was a mother-in-law second to none. She was a great cook and the Hector public school cafeteria could attest to that. She was their head cook for decades. She hand embroidered anything that would lie flat. Esther could crochet in her sleep and she was patient when she taught me while I was pregnant with Carrie. It was not unusual that the postman made frequent deliveries to her home from “LeeWards,” the catalog craft company. Skeins of yarn are milled leaving a tail of yarn hanging out of one end. That was to be the starter for the projects that would ensue. It would be rare if you could use the entire skein without a huge mess of tangled yarn spilling out all at once.
Esther ordered a yarn winder. It clamped onto the edge of a table with a starter spindle and a hand crank. Once the spindle was started, one hand worked the crank and the other hand continued to feed the yarn out of the belly of the skein. With deft speed each skein would become this beautiful honeycomb looking creation of a flat bottomed cylindrical 4 oz. ball of yarn. How could I not think of Esther as I peered into my stash. Priceless.
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Noreen
I Don’t Have a Label for It
Yesterday, I admittedly said I was independent. I think there is more to that. I am a person that can be alone and not be lonely. Does it come about from being a farmer’s daughter in a family of six? The world reached as far as the participation in church, Sunday school and rural country school through eighth grade. Being bored has never been in my vocabulary.
From my earliest memories there was never a lack of activity within our home. I am sure the saying “Idle hands are the the work of the devil” may have been the root of Raymond and Lena keeping their kids busy and putting out what I call, a lot of local effort. After the work was done there was plenty of time for creative play: tree forts, play houses in the depths of the grove, our own little plot of dirt to see what seeds would produce, and us girls got an early education of embroidering dish towels. Mom’s box of fabric scraps contained the better part of scrapped out clothing, bits and pieces of fabric left from sewing with printed feed sacks – and even the treasured pieces of boughten yardage that were too small for Mom to use. With those, I could scrounge through to make my doll some new clothes. Life was too busy to feel as if we were lacking anything.
Fast forward to wherever Orlin and I made a home with Carrie and Kevin. There always seemed to be plenty to tackle to make the real estate feel like a home filled with love, contentment and self-satisfaction of jobs well done without the long receipts of purchased items. Within each home: Carrie found a spot for her dolls and books, Kevin would find some square footage for a desk within a closet or a workshop in one of the outbuildings. It never took much of an area for me to set up my Sears sewing machine to express myself whether it was sewing for the family, mending clothes or sewing carpet rags. As the kids grew and expressed curiosities, dampening their spirits was not thought of. Orlin included Kevin in any and every type of repair and building project that he was involved in. Different baking ingredients were purchased as Carrie’s interest grew in the kitchen and patterns were tried for her clothes. I believe the key to both children was leaving them alone at times for imagination and skills to shine. We enjoyed the home life.
Fast forward to the year of 2016 and I can tell you, Carrie and Kevin’s life skills are working great for them. Kersten often comments on Kevin’s ability to fix vehicles as well as building a secure and sound homestead for them. Carrie mans a huge home with her kids at her elbow, learning what their mom has brought for life skills then and now.
I know that perhaps I do spend a bit too much time alone. Not much a joiner of clubs, home is where I am the happiest. Dennis reminds me: I am retired and I am always just a phone call away if anyone needs me, and I know where and when I am needed, and I show up. “Do what makes you happy Grammie,” and I do. It is a close call between hermit and introvert. Whatever! I am happy.
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Noreen
Fresh Air Can’t Hurt
Dennis has gone to see his friend recovering from a bad fall on the ice. I have taken the opportunity to open up both ends of the house for some fresh air. Fresh air can’t hurt after a spell of cold temps, and it sure can’t hurt keeping me on the straight and narrow with my scrappy projects in my sewing studio.
I have been in the habit of making gifts for people for decades. I find it relaxing and allowing myself to think about each person who will be on the receiving end of the gift. That is how I had so many scraps that ended up being finished one inch squares to put together in various patterns.
Having a sewing studio is not foreign to me. When Carrie was just a year old, my Dad and my Mom staked Orlin and me to a 160 acre farm not far from where my parents lived. I was very familiar with the farm and the home, as I had spent many hours in that home and on the dooryard playing with my District 34 classmate, Marith Kurth, whose parents owned the farm. It was a lovely story and a quarter, three bedroom home with a dry, usable basement.
We did enjoy and make use of every square inch of that home. It is the first home that Kevin ever knew. It didn’t take much prodding from Carrie to teach Kevin how to navigate the steps either going up or down or out. Without the basement, that we did finish out for a playroom and a television room, some would have said it was a small home. Marith and her brother’s family found it suitable long past the time that grandchildren visited.
One of the basement storage areas, Orlin converted into a sewing room. There was a handy closet on the west end that was partitioned off for a canning cellar on the south end and a sewing storage area on north end. It was handy as all get-out. The kids were close by, the laundry was close by and the half bathroom didn’t hurt either. In time, the sewing room had enough room in it for a 4-harness rug loom to be added. Sewing studios have been a part of me for over fifty years.
Back to the one inch squares. In today’s world, I would not have made anything from which these scraps evolved. I am
onto larger pieces of fabric. Fifteen or sixteen years ago, I did make gifts for the gals who worked for me in the courthouse. Once I got into the swing of all things being an inch, my sister-in-laws each received one, as well as my mom, my daughter, and a niece, Erin. Wouldn’t you know it? I had scraps left.
Today, with the fresh air wafting through the home, it was time to get serious and put scraps to use once and for all. I never throw very much away if I can envision something coming out of the depths of a storage box. Several years ago, when granddaughter Megan was going to receive her first American Girl Doll, daddy Jeremy emailed me. He was handcrafting a doll bed and wanted to know if I could make the bedding, complete with a quilt for it. No problem. At that time, out came the one inch square happy scraps. Now today, the batting and backing has been determined as well as the bindings being cut. Dennis already had marveled over the potholders that were whipped out earlier from quilt squares that had not made the cut. He knew I would not back down until this group of projects would be finished. It is fun to have an item here or there for an unsuspecting visitor to our home. Happy scrapper quilter sucking in fresh air: happy home. -
Noreen
It Is a Birthday Kind of Day
Oh for the wisdom that sparkles
in Lena’s blue eyes.Today my Mom would have been 99 years old. I hear many people make note of their heroes in life, from sports individuals to philanthropists. My heroes in life were, and still are, my parents. Today would have been Lena’s day. No doubt she would have made plans for the entire family to come to the farm in Boon Lake Township located in Renville County either the Sunday before or the Sunday after the December 2nd date.
When I think things get tough in my life, I only have to stop and reflect on Lena’s life. My Mom grew up in a large family with a father who was a party man. Emil would not think twice about staying at a local pub while his family hustles to take care of livestock on the farm. Emil would buy drinks for others and come home with not a coin left in his pocket. Emil also spent some time in prison as he had taken a pitchfork to my uncle Bill.
I only bring up the information about Mom’s childhood, and it never, ever left a negative mark on her beautiful soul and heart. Mom and my Dad met when they were both hired hands on a farm. My parents went on to have a family of four who they raised and took care of with every fiber in their beings. My Mom often would share with me that she never wanted for anything after marrying Raymond as he was a good provider. When times were tough, we may not have had a lot of materialistic things, but we never knew the difference as we were happy and content within the home that was provided for us. Dad taught his boys to work wonders in the tool shop and my Mom taught us girls the fine arts of baking, cooking and sewing.
I know she made a huge impact on the grandchildren, playing cards with them or letting them follow her around when they would spend time in grandma and grandpa’s home. Even for my granddaughter, Megan, who wants to be a writer, there would not be enough words to sufficiently describe Lena and her legacy.On another note, when daughter Carrie found out she would be having a baby in the late November or early December time via a c-section, Carrie reserved December 2nd for Megan’s birth. Today Megan is 12 and Mom would have been 99; my breath is taken away for oh so many reasons and I have memories sliding down my cheeks.
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Noreen
Warm Weather Prompts Elbow Grease
What can I say? When the sun pumps the temperatures into the low 60s, this Stauffer Avenue gal finds things to do. The clothes lines got a swipe to take off the fall harvest dust and out went the quilts to get freshened. I can tell you that right now, as I am typing, the entire home smells . . . wonderful.
Both the front door and the back door are Larson doors that have the multi glass panes, plus screens that sorely needed to be taken apart. The secret of that job was to hustle as there were a few late season flies that were seeking shelter. Wonder of wonder, we have had very few Asian Beetles and Box Elder bugs compared to previous years. That right there was the biggest reason I had no fear of putting quilts out to air out. Those two species of bugs have either or both nasty pee and poop that leave stains.
It is always best to wait until there is no chance of further house washing from Dennis before I begin washing the house windows. Our city water is hard and it leaves the most stubborn of hard water spots. My sister was puzzled in a conversation we had had in a fall season long gone by. They had never considered washing off the house siding of their home. When Dennis gets the Dawn dish washing liquid out, and he affixes his container to the garden hose, the muddy water from the siding never ceases to amaze. The heavy rinse process makes for the suds to glorify the driveway. His hope is to ward off the discoloration of the white house siding from dirt and dust that is most likely mixed with exhaust fumes from heavy truck traffic. We have noticed some homes that are showing signs of the white siding becoming very yellowed.
Tomorrow is to be another great day and I have saved the eight west porch windows for the last. Tipping in the house windows makes the process so much more desirable than in days of old when the screens needed to be taken off of the homes for storage and then getting the heavy storm windows out of storage to be cleaned and lifted into place. Modern conveniences, I love them.
I do recall that process when we lived on the farm and Carrie had just turned one. I was up on the ladder taking screens off of the second floor of the house while Carrie watched from the lawn below on a blanket surrounded by fall leaves. I was about to come down with a screen when I notice a mink on the lawn not very very far from where Carrie was and he was on the move. I launched the screen like a wild Frisbee and was lucky enough that it landed on the mink. I moved a lot faster 49 years ago than now. When getting off of the ladder I took the closest thing handy, which was a garden rake, and clobbered the varmint. Carrie was safe, the mink was dead, and the window screen was no more. Did I mention how much I love these tip in windows?
I admit, today I was weary by the time supper needed to be fixed. What a blessing to have a stash of baked out bacon in the refrigerator to be paired with eggs and toast. Time to put the feet up and take in Wheel of Fortune. By tomorrow, I will have forgotten how weary I am and the elbow grease will be in full swing.
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Noreen
Due Diligence
Seeing projects through to their ends is, indeed, due diligence. Off and on during the heat of the summer, I have been working on my scrappy quilt project. Quilt projects are always a challenge when working with fabric and threads. Having the vision of the final hurdle needs patience until the due diligence has been done.
I did not need to use the little silver tool to thread the finer sewing needles until I reached my 70th birthday. I never fully appreciated how much easier life could be with these little freebies.
This week, the hemming of the scrappy quilt is that last hurdle. Hand hemming is still the most desirable option. High loft batting, fluffy flannel, scrappy quilt top and the binding makes too many layers under the Model 1802 Sears sewing machine for a quality looking hurdle. My Mom preferred the blind stitch for hemming. Double quilt thread in a very sharp needle fills the bill. Think about it: you are in the bed and tug the quilt up tight to your chin, the hem edge often times feels that tight tug. The double threaded needle of tough quilt thread sure can’t hurt to keep the binding in place. As it is the blind stitch, I am able to use the white quilt thread I had on hand as it wouldn’t be visible.
I don’t mind the time it takes for hand hemming. A project such a this deserves that quality of time. One of my Dad’s favorite sayings: “You don’t have time to do it right, but you always have time to do it over.” Wow, what pops into my mind immediately after typing that line is the amount of farrowing crates the kids’ dad built, each time thinking the latest was the greatest. Both Kevin and I do not mind taking the time in doing projects right the first time. I can’t speak for Carrie, as her hubby Jeremy drives that engine. I like due diligence.
Regardless of how warm and humid it is outside, driving me into the sewing room to begin with, I don’t like sitting at the sewing table for long periods of time. A tender back makes for moving often. There is junk mail to check out, putting a new blurb onto my blog, or checking the refrigerator for what is available for suppertime fixings. Time frames are workable when those of Stauffer Avenue are retired. Checking the weather forecast, I think Wednesday will be a day for outside work: a lower dew point and temps in the low eighties.
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Noreen
I Had Not Realized What Was Going On
Our day started at six this morning as the new coffee pot was going off. Dennis had agreed to keep his nephew Brett company on a trip into Wisconsin to pick up a new trailer for Brett’s concrete company. I did get up long enough to put the morning news on the TV. and lay back down to take in the whatever news I could focus on.
By eight the boys were on the road and I had had several cups of coffee. I didn’t really have anything planned for the day and a bit of laziness had set in. Butter Ball and Snuggles stayed around the porch as we enjoyed the sound of the Morning Doves in the background. Neighbor Jan was out and about early and we exchanged a few gardening tidbits. Coffee cup was empty and I headed back into the house. The cats followed me to the door as if they knew all too well that Dennis was not going to be hanging out with them for the day. Sorry guys, no cats in the house.
Fast forward and here it is 1:30 in the afternoon. The refrigerator is stocked from the grocery store with choices of ingredients to fix meals. The dollar store’s bag of jelly beans at $1.00 each . . . Dennis now has several of those bags next to his computer. There is two lbs of bacon that has been baked out for use in days to come. Dennis had expressed that a bowl of potato salad would be good this weekend and that has been prepared and chilling in the refrig, complete with chives from our garden for garnish added to it. Chocolate Chip cookies are on cooling rakes on the dining room table. A wonderful looking seedless watermelon has been cubed and is chilling to be enjoyed at will. All of the garbage from the prep is out in the Waste Management garbage container. The buzzer has gone off on the clothes dryer several minutes ago and I have folding to do.
What has gone on with the day that found me welcoming a lazy daisy type of day? It is the day before the 4th of July. This day for many years had been THE prep day for the family picnic Orlin and I would host on the 4th of July for many, many years. My family and Orlin’s all gathered for a day of family fun. It also happened to be Kevin’s birthday on the 4th and so why the heck not have a blowout like neither family had ever seen. Orlin’s nephew, Frank, would give rides in a trailer behind the riding lawn mower for the little ones. Lawn games were everywhere on our sprawling lawn. Balloons seemed to float in the air at will. Several of the empty huge wooden electrical spools were used as severing tables, and let me tell you, they overflowed with all the potluck items that had been brought. The huge shade trees made a canopy of ongoing shade to sit under. When eyelids of the adults became heavy due to good and rich food, there was an outbreak of music. Orlin’s mother on her harmonica and my uncle Norman on his concertina had everyone thumping their feet before long. Both needed no music, they played by ear. Most of the people attending were dairy farmers. Morning chores had gotten done and the welcome mat was out with no time table. Noon was a great time to start the picnic singing the song everyone was familiar with . . . “Be present at our table Lord – – – .” By four in the afternoon the crown would thin out, as again, there were chores to tackle. Needless to say, there was one very weary birthday boy that we could count on to be easily contained as Orlin and I did the diary and livestock chores. Big sister Carrie had it easy to keep a check on him. Priceless.
Sometimes when I get lost in memories that are oh so sweet, I kick into automatic overdrive, and today was such a day. It’s not as if any of the aforementioned items completed in my kitchen will not be enjoyed and appreciated by Dennis and me, as we spend the weekend at home. What went on here today is a portion of my life, that has been made oh so sweet by times past. I am here to tell you, I am up for a lot more sweetness to carry me on.
