Ready for Thanksgiving?

When one works at a school, the question among the staff and the faculty is inevitable: "Are you ready for Thanksgiving?"

It's never clear whether the question means, "Isn't it great to be having 4.5 days off!" or "Are you cooking on Thursday and if so, have you hit the grocery store yet?"

The "are you ready" question returns in another month, but I'm not ready to go there yet.

My standard answer to the "are you ready" question is -- God willing -- "I'm where I should be." As in, right now, for instance, I've not bought my turkey or made any pies, but I've tidied the guest room, planned my menu, made my shopping list, and designated the time to go shopping before Wednesday when the parking lot at the store is a life-threatening adventure.

We do things differently at our place. Years ago, it became obvious that the best holiday of the year shouldn't be compromised with stress about whose turn it is to go where. Two of my children have in-laws within an hour of our home. And those in-laws do Thanksgiving dinner on Thanksgiving Day. And we do it on Friday. It's such a simple solution! Two turkey dinners for some people. No hurt feelings. No juggling of calendars. An extra day for preparation. Stores open that morning just in case.

Am I ready to stuff a turkey? To admire but not eat someone's punkin pie? To have our entire family together under one roof? To take the annual group photo for the Christmas card? Am I ready? Oh, yes! And as for everything else: I'm where I should be.

Dressmaking Interlude Concluded

Well, you know, I really enjoyed making this dress, but that doesn't mean I'm going to get back into the clothing sewing mode any time soon! I enjoyed it because I was making it for someone I love -- one of my [two] mommy-to-be daughters-in-law. This lady is a professional musician (yes, and every once in a while, we have her harp actually living in our home and can hear her practicing!) and people in orchestras have to wear long black dresses for performances.

I had this lovely black fabric that a friend had given me (not suitable for quilting) and a pattern left over from my daughter's pregnancy. I even had some lining fabric. So I had to buy a zipper and a package of lace seam tape. Took about a week to get it together, because it was a busy week on other fronts.

I like how it turned out. The fabric is soft. The style is simple. The zipper is pretty straight and so is the hem.

She'll be home on Thursday and we'll see how it fits.

The photographs are terrible. They remind me of something you wouldn't buy on Ebay. In actuality, the sleeves are the same length.

Now, back to quilting!

We the Purple?

Oh, I've had another lovely weekend so far. Last night we went down to the local pub for dinner with our dear next-door neighbors, whom we've seen powerfully little of in recent weeks. I said to Maggie, "Maybe if we didn't live so far apart . . . we'd get together more often." Anyway, when we came home, we watched a Netflix and I did all of the fingerwork on the performance dress except the hem. This morning I got the seam tape on and tonight I'm going to handstitch that hem in. A good pressing, and it will be done.

Today I did mountains of laundry and started sewing the blocks into rows for the batik four-patch quilt. I wanted a name for it and began thinking "Power to the Purple" might be the name. Then later tonight I though perhaps "We the Purple." Am sort of up in the air on this at present. Could be that the real name hasn't come to me yet. I'm liking this quilt a lot.

You can see the start of some cabins. After I made that cabin for Marsha a week or two ago, I got to wanting some of my own. I have a great big Rubbermaid tub of batiks and plenty of black, so I cut a bunch of centers this morning and have been using this as a leader-ender project as I assemble Purple.

If you've been following this blog for a while, you already know the trouble I have with leader-enders. They tend to develop strong personalities and get kind of pushy, demanding to be made into real projects, not just insignificant leader-enders. Usually they prevail. Not this time, I hope. I gave those centers a good strong talking-to today and I think they are going to behave.

If not, I imagine you'll be among the first to know.

COW Here

Somebody at work pointed out that there's a support group for everyone but us. There are the people of color, the Jewish families affinity group, the group for gay, lesbian and transgender issues, among others. "What we need," she said, "is a group for Cranky Old Women." "COWs," I responded. "COWs."

So I got to thinking that perhaps when I feel a rant coming on, I could put a picture of a cow in my post, and then people would know that it doesn't contain any quilty, family, or theological content, but rather is just a Cranky Old Woman holding forth.

Got it?

Good. So here's the cow again. And here's the diatribe:

I'm thinking that the blog world I frequent is changing a bit. And here are some the things that are peeving me right about now.

Blogs that are are done by people who work for fabric manufacturing companies. They're nothing short of free advertising for Moda, etc. It took me a little while to figure this out, and then I took the links out of my Quilters list because I'm not on the payroll.

Blogs that have giveaways with all manner of traffic-generating conditions (you know, earn one entry for leaving a comment, earn another for posting, earn yet another for making a link, yadda yadda). Why would anyone want to sift through a couple of hundred comments from people who are only interested in the giveaway? Isn't blogging about developing cyber-relationships with other bloggers?

Blogs that, again, involve generating revenue for a company or designer. Right now a lot of quilters are participating in a project that involves purchasing one pattern per month from a certain designer. Lots more free advertising for the designer as the participants post their finished projects on their blogs. Because lots of us see what others are doing and imitation, you know, is the sincerest form of flattery.

And then there's the endurance test. Some group of designers somehow banded together and set up some kind of a triathlon where for twelve consecutive days one has to visit a whole slew of blogs on a daily basis and leave a comment on each one, each day, in the hopes of winning some prize or another. Makes me tired just reading about it!

Okay. 'Nuff said. End of rant.

Cranky Old Woman, Near Philadelphia, Signing Off (for now)

Odds and Ends

. . . Whew! They're all assembled, wrapped, and ready to go in the mail (ITM, as Honna would say). Back in the middle of the summer, when Advent seemed light years away, Fiona and Jo came up with the idea of an international swap where we'd gather 24 small gifties, one for each day of Advent, plus one larger hand-made giftie for Christmas and send these to our partner. They should have gone ITM a week and a day ago. Mine are going today. To someone who lives about as far away from Philadelphia as possible. I hope you are pleased, partner!

. . . The other evening I went to a meeting of a newly formed group not far from my home. I'd heard it was a new quilt guild. By gosh, the women were nice! Earnest, generous, and eager to help newbies learn to sew and quilt. It wasn't a guild, but rather a sewing group. A great idea. Just not what I'm looking for at the moment. Last night Judy and I went to the guild we've been attending for several months now. It's friendly, welcoming, full of interesting and diverse programs, and 45-minutes-drive each way. I don't believe I'd do it without Judy's wonderful company on the road. Membership in the guild is limited. We're on the waiting list. And hopeful.

. . . Our granddog leaves today. Perhaps then Bo, who's hidden himself in the lower level for ten days, will venture back upstairs and start speaking to us again.

. . . Oh, and please go here. Kim's a blessing to my life. Perhaps she will be to yours, too.

Guest Blogger

I don't know if I mentioned to y'all that while A&A are trying to sell their condo, the grandparents-to-be are earning points by keeping their dog. Zoe's been with us for a week and a half; tomorrow night we hand her over to the other "grandparents." To keep A&A from missing her too much, each morning I send a brief email report of how she's doing(just fine), what excitement she's found on her evening walks with Joe (deer, skunk, cat), and how her appetite is (superb).

This morning there was an experience to top them all. And I can't improve on the reporting. So here's my husband, in his own words:

This can't wait for Nancy's Joe & Zoie Adventures.

This morning we were out looking to see what we could find. You know we have seen deer frequently; the other evening 5 and last night a single deer was silhouetted on the crest of the hill. So this morning we went to see if the deer were bedded down near a spot we found them on Saturday.

We when down the trail, through the edge of the park, over the small bridge, into the woods and turned left. We both stopped periodically and look while we listened. At this point in the walk Zoie stopped smelling other dogs and she knew what we were about. We moved forward to the spot but found nothing.

Well, it was a morning walk and I had to get to work. So we went back out of the woods, across the bridge and through the edge of the park. Shortly after we were back on the trail to [our street], a fox came down the hill and stopped on the trail about 75 yards in front of us. We both saw it and we just stood still. The fox sat scratched itself, looked around and walked the path toward us. It stopped again, scratched again and then came closer. Zoie and I were standing in a shadow of a tree, I had on a bright yellow jacket that blended into the tree, the wind was blowing across the trail so the fox didn't smell us, and the sun was bright into the fox's eyes so we were hard to see. The fox came closer; we were both frozen, I tightened the leash very slowly, and we waited. The fox trotted along checking out one side of the path then the other (the path is from six to eight feet wide in that section).

The fox was redder than others I have seen in the area Its tail was flattened and thin, not bushy, and darker red, with a white end of about five inches long. The still came toward us, we were frozen there for at least five minutes. At a distance of about 60 feet, half the width of our yard, the fox stopped. He just looked at us, he appeared to squint at us in the bright sun. He blinked his eyes and he looked, we didn't move.... Around his eyes there was darker hair and he watched us. After a while he moved back several steps and stopped to look at us again. Still Zoie didn't move. He walked back to the other side of the trail and looked back again. Then the fox hopped into the woods, Zoie jumped and pulled the choker collar was tight and she could hardly breathe but still she pulled! We moved up to the spot where the fox had gone and smelled and looked and, of course, pulled some more, but he was gone and we couldn't believe what had just happened.

I wonder where Zoie will want to walk tonight.

Joe, Near Philadelphia