Monday, February 28, 2011

Mooo Again

You may have thought she'd gone out to pasture.  The COW*, that is. Well, she's alive and well and her usual cranky self.

The DVD player has died. It is perhaps eight or ten years old and surely doesn't owe us anything. We use it to watch our Netflix. Which is pretty much all we watch since the rest of television is so abominable.

Polly had reported that Netflix was going to change to a new format, where the disks no longer go back and forth in the mail, but the movies are "streamed" directly from their site into our television. There is some new device needed for this, she said.

So the other night, after looking around for a 13-year-old boy who might give me the full scoop on this, I settled for a guy about ten years younger than I am, who said he'd been in electronics and sound systems for ever. He did some clicking and pondering on a miniature device with a screen that he just happened to have in his pocket and within a minute or two had the brand name and model number of what we need.

Off we went to Best Buy where we found something remarkably similar and decided to grab it. Wisely, I asked the 16-year-old behind the counter if this was all I needed.  It wasn't. There is a "LAN adapter" required to do the "streaming." And, no, they didn't have any.  "Actually," he saidt  "They are kind of hard to get right now." He checked his computer and reported, "They won't even let me order one for you." So we left the device at the store and snarled our way home.

Why -- in the name of everything bovine -- would a company manufacture a device that requires an additional part to be useful and then not include said additional part in the package with the device?  Holy Cow!

Trolling the internet showed me that Target has the device in their stores and on-line, and at least on-line has the "LAN adapter."  So I suppose that is the way to go.  Meanwhile, the two disks from Netflix sit tantalizing us from the mail table.

Mooooo!



*Cranky Old Woman

Sunday, February 27, 2011

A Quilt With No Name

It seems as though the quarrel over which is the real project and which is the leader-ender has been resolved.  I'd initially tried a different layout for these blocks and then decided I liked the original design a little better.

I won't get back to this project until near the end of the coming week.  Today is full of the baby shower and Masterpiece Theatre this evening, and Monday and Tuesday nights are booked.  Just eight blocks to go . . . .

In the previous layout, I'd called this "Spare The Pyramids," in light of all of the unrest in Egypt.  But that seems to be over now, and the name no longer fits. What shall it be named?  There will be a little prize if someone comes up with just the right thing . . . .


Saturday, February 26, 2011

Ecclesiastes

Is anyone else old enough to remember this series of symbols?  They were hand-written on a chalkboard while a voice intoned their meaning (man, woman, birth, death, infinity) at the beginning of every episode of the television series "Ben Casey."


This morning I awoke to the happy news that Evelyn Suzanne had been born to friends of our kids.  I'd made her a quilt a couple of months ago.  It was a joyful start to what would be a hard morning.


Out I went, then, to attend the funeral of my Circle sister's husband.  He'd been one of the first people we'd met when we joined our church so many years ago, a guy who always had a twinkle in his eye.  I sat with Circle sisters and reflected that Marlise is the third of us to have been widowed, and how important the support of long-time friends is at these times.


Ran a couple of errands afterward and then came home to learn that a friend's much-anticipated grandbaby had been born this morning; welcome to the world, Alma Eleanora!


Man, woman.  Birth, death.  Joy, sorrow.   Ecclesiastes.





Thursday, February 24, 2011

I Love This Quilt


I went out this evening to pay a condolence call.  One of my Circle sisters lost her husband day before yesterday.  When I arrived, she was sitting in the chair feeding her tiny, infant grandson.  He is a gorgeous baby with bright, inquisitive eyes and an amazing mop of hair.  I wish I had a picture to share with you.  But I guess you'll have to trust me.

When I came home I was reading email and had a comment from an unfamiliar reader, Kim.  I traveled over to her blog and gasped aloud.  The quilt she has in her header is just amazing.  I covet it.  I'm not going to grab her picture and post it here.  But I'll send you over for a look.  But don't say I didn't warn you:  It is fantastic.


UPDATE:  Seems this quilt came from Fassett and Lucy's Passionate Patchwork.


And to think I once (or many times) said I would not be bothered to cut up men's shirts . . . . 


Quilts for Friends We Haven't Met Yet

Recently some Facebook "friends" (who actually are real friends) became upset over something that had to do with the perceived belittling of Quilts of Valor.  Let the record show that I have nothing but admiration, respect and awe for this organization, its mission, and its actual accomplishments.  Another quilter I have known for many years has supported QOV longer than anyone else I know, and from time to time I send her "stuff" to use in her work for these soldiers. 

The turmoil came from a post about a television show where apparently a quilter/hoarder was publicly humiliated into pruning her considerable stash.  I did not see the show (I was busy sewing at the time, I suppose), nor did I see the initial post that caused the flap (and I do not use the term "flap" with any disrespect).  So I'm coming into this as a real outsider.

The problem, as I understand it, is that quilts made for Quilts of Valor were referred to as "charity quilts" and, as such, carried an inference -- for some people -- of shoddy workmanship and/or inferior quality fabric.  I didn't quite get it.    

I make quilts to give to people I know and quilts to keep.  I also sometimes make quilts to give away to people that I do not know, people who have had some sort of life-altering event and could use a little extra comfort.  I think of those quilts as charity quilts, to differentiate from those I give to people I know. I use the same quality of fabric and degree of care in my work for all of my quilts.  I wrote to a friend who was among the incensed and asked for clarification.  I asked her, "What language would you suggest for quilts that are given away to needy individuals, to people we don't know, or to special causes?  Charity means kindness, love, that kind of thing, doesn't it?  When I hear "charity quilt" I don't assume inferior workmanship and cheap fabric.  I think it is a quilt made for an unknown recipient out of love."

She wasn't offended, took my question seriously, and wrote back, 

     I think your understanding of the word is what I wish it was in the world, but I am afraid is not.
     "Taking charity" is, I think, seen as something to be avoided -- especially by those trying to maintain their personal pride and dignity.  IMO, "charity" is often seen as the transfer of unwanted/inferior/used goods from the "haves" to the "havenots", rather than as the synonym for "love" that Corinthians (?) would have us understand it.
     By extension, though I do not know this personally, I suspect that "charity quilts" have been characterized in the quilting world as somehow inferior in quality of fabric or workmanship, therefore creating the desire to distinguish QOV from those run-of-the-mill quilts.
      Perhaps, like "Quilts of Valor", other such quilts could be called "Quilts of Caring" or "Quilts of Love"?  

She's right, of course.  But isn't it a shame that such a fine word has morphed into something so shabby?



Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Moving Right Along

The Good Guys went out to dinner the other night.  I hadn't been with them for six months; I was sick when they gathered at Christmas time.  So I was really looking forward to the evening.  Peggy, who had moved to another state a little more than ten years ago, has returned to Philadelphia, where she is living in Center City, and has been welcomed back into our little group.  It was as if she'd never been away.  We caught up, drank some wine, and tried to plan to get together again.  A good evening.

On the quilting front, I picked up Neapolitan from the machine quilter and am on the second side of the binding.  This is my February project for Nancy's UFO challenge, and I am confident it will be done before February is.  I also left Sister's Choice to be quilted.  The UFO for March is Cinnamon Latte; I'm hoping to leave it with the quilter when I pick up Sister's Choice.

In a little more than two weeks, we have a White Oak Getaway.  I'm so eager!  I believe my project is going to be Justin's wedding quilt and have pretty much decided that it is going to be Emily Cier's Irish Chain; I just can't get that quilt out of my head.  I'll stop and pick up background fabric on the way.  Oh, I can't wait!

Monday, February 21, 2011

On Turning 108

I may have mentioned that sometime this spring I'm going to become a great-GREAT aunt.  Which makes me think I must be about 108.  There's going to be a shower this coming Sunday and Sherry and I are going to go.  I'd made this baby quilt, shown earlier on this blog before it was quilted and bound, to take as my gift.

The invitation to the shower came in last week's mail. It was very cute.  And it said to bring a gift from the category indicated on the enclosed slip.  Which said something about "Bathe the baby -- bring shampoo, body wash, towel."  People who are 108 don't need to be told what to give as a gift.  I'm giving the quilt.  Maybe he can lie on it after his bath.

Monday was Presidents' Day which meant a day off from school.  I was sipping my tea and thinking about going off to look for a pair of shoes when the phone rang.  It was one of my favorite nieces, calling to see if I was up for meeting her at Sauder's and then going out to lunch.  I certainly was.  It's been years, literally, since I've had time alone with Susan.  Besides, I had another agenda item, more about which in a minute.

Met at Sauder's and picked up some more pink for Dying Of Cute and a bolt of 108" unbleached muslin and then wandered into the bulk foods section where I bought some trail mix for Joe and some caraway and dill seeds for the bread he has taken to making.  I also bought a couple of bags of Good 'N' Plenty type candy to take to the Upper School Director.  She's been provoking me and my will power by offering M&Ms in her candy jar and I need to put a stop to that.  I loathe licorice.

Anyway, Susan and I are on an internet quilting list together, and when I learned that her son and his wife were expecting, I wrote a secret message to the group and before long people had sent pinwheel blocks to Kathy who put them together and sent them off to Bonnie who quilted it and sent it back to me to bind.  I had planned to give it to Susan at the shower, but with an anticipated attendance of over 50, I thought much better of that plan and presented it to her in the parking lot at Sauder's (previous picture).  Too bad there aren't a couple of buggies to add to the ambiance.  This picture was taken right after it was finished and I think it shows it off a little more.

The intention is for this quilt to reside at Grandma Susan's house for when he comes to visit.


Give 'Til It Hurts?

I have a cousin who lives on the other side of the continent, and her visits "home" are infrequent.  Her father -- my mother's twin brother -- is buried in the same cemetery as my parents.  Each December when Bonnie and I go to put a wreath on their grave, we put one on my uncle's as well.  It is a small thing.  For us.  For my cousin, it is a very big thing.  A visit that she is unable to personally make is made by cousins who loved her dad quite a bit.

This week I received an email from said cousin.  She knew I'd had a birthday and wanted to know my favorite charity so that she could give a donation to it.  As a way to thank me for placing a wreath.  I was blown away.

Such a contrast to the other emails, letters, phone calls, Facebook postings and even people at the door with clipboards asking me to give money to support their favorite charities.  Which is hard for me.  Because I really can't.  I have causes that are personally important to me, and I give to them.  I know that my friends' charities are personally important to them, but my philanthropic budget line isn't large enough for me to take them on.  If someone mentions a cause that she is supporting and I feel moved to help with that support, I do.  But beyond that, all I can do is just say, "It sounds very worthwhile and important to you."

So my "distant" cousin has given me something to think about.  A philanthropic approach I can possibly implement in some way.  Thanks, cuz!

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Quilt Day at Church

The Umpteenth Semi-Annual Quilt Day at our church was held today and, IMNSHO, was a huge success!  There were 28 in attendance.  Breakfast and lunch (both abundant and delicious) were served (and one of the desserts was a pineapple upside down cake!) and door prizes were dispensed along with tiny hand-made favors.  All for a whopping $15!

Joe I went down to the church last night and laid out Second Hand Clothes on the floor in the nursery across the hall from where we were quilting.  It's a queen size, and I don't have a large enough place at home to lay it out.  I made great progress today, getting all of the blocks put together into their diagonal rows, and furthermore getting the middle five longest rows sewn together!  The remaining rows are organized and I believe I will be able to finish it from here.

At home, you can see I'm working on two projects.  One is the main project and one is the leader-ender and they squabble incessantly about which is which.  I'm trying to give them equal time.  The pink and gray one that I think of as Dying Of Cute takes a while.  It is all HSTs and I use Piecemeal's method of cutting the squares at 3-1/4 and then after stitching and pressing, trimming them down to 2-1/2.  I used it as a leader-ender today while working on Second Hand Clothes, so I've got a lot of pressing and trimming ahead of me some boring night.  The other project, well, somebody (I can't remember who) wrote that Argyle, Anyone? would make up right nice in CWs and that was all it took for me to open that Rubbermaid Tub of CWs and get started.  I'm trying out a different layout, and with the recent goings-on in Egypt, have been thinking of this quilt as Spare The Pyramids!  May or may not stay with this layout, but that's what I've got now.  It is going to be a gift for -- oh, wait, I think it should be a surprise.


Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Quilting in Botswana?

Judy and I attended our first guild meeting as full-fledged members and had such a lovely evening.  We proudly wore our nametags and had such a warm reception!  We sat with a member who knew a good bit about applique and told us "The secret is in having a very small needle."  Who knew?  I was surprised when the past president (who, quite frankly, is one of the reasons we decided to join) came over to ask me about something she'd read on this blog (Hi, Jane!  I believe this is the link you mentioned) and another member also mentioned the blog.  I'd no idea I had readers among the guild.

The program for the evening was presented by one Cindy Friedman, as lovely an individual as you'd ever want to meet.  She's a fiber artist who does things like the piece to the left.  There were two parts to her talk:  The latter part was about her silk organza work and the process she uses to obtain these gorgeous results.  It was fascinating.  Equally interesting, however, was the first part of her presentation, which had to do with her efforts to introduce quilting to the people of Botswana.  She taught us quite a bit about the health issues in that country: Her husband is an infectious disease physician who makes frequent trips to help reduce the rate of HIV and AIDS and other communicable diseases among the poor people who live there.  Cindy has accompanied him on some of these trips and because she is the sort of person who would not want grass growing under her feet, she spends her time there working with local artists, helping them by bringing their art back to the United States to sell and teaching them how to paper-piece fabric scraps to make AIDS remembrance pins to sell.

I seldom use the work "inspiring" to describe a person, but that is exactly what this gentle woman is.  In her own unique way she is making a difference.  Bravo!



Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Swing for the Fences

Nope.  It's not my quilt.  But I wish it were.  Isn't it great?

My coworker, Gabrielle, bought herself a sewing machine and she and her adorable daughter have become self-taught quilters and bag makers.  Golly, they'll be tailoring suits if I look away!

Swing for the Fences might be Gabrielle's first "real" quilt.  Or perhaps her second.  It's made out of flannel, and she made it for her son.  Who doesn't sew.  Yet.  I'm darned impressed.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Aspirin for Valentine's Day

Long-time readers of this blog may remember that two-and-three-quarters years ago, Joe and I came to understand in a very personal way that hearts are not just pink and red paper, tiny pastel candies with imprinted wishes, gold or silver lockets, but also the difference between life and death.

When he woke me to speak of chest pain that wouldn't go away, I gave him an aspirin and took him to the ER.  There, after the catheterization and insertion of the first stent, the doctor told me that the aspirin and speed of getting to the ER had helped to make the difference.

Now I carry in my wallet a little plastic pill envelope containing a couple of aspirin (and three or four of his nitroglycerin tablets).  Someday, someone may need them.

Sometime, somewhere, I read about the importance of aspirin as a first response to chest pain.  Perhaps this post will be that sometime, somewhere for you.


Sunday, February 13, 2011

Another Year

On a whim, we went to the 4:00 movie this afternoon to see "Another Year."  I guess I'd give it a B- or a C+.  It was okay, but the popcorn was better.

Starring Jim Broadbent and Ruth Sheen as a happily married couple about our own age, the film just didn't seem to go anywhere.  Broadbent and Sheen were terrific, as was Lesley Manville who played a coworker of the wife's.  The story was a year in the lives of Gerri and Tom, and the issues-laden family, colleagues, and friends they know.

It's easy to see why these maladjusted folks want to hang out at Gerri's and Tom's place; they must hope that some of the blissful normalcy will rub off on them.

I'm not saying I didn't like it.  Rather:  See it when it comes to Netflix.  Movies are too expensive to spend the money on this one.


Friday, February 11, 2011

Birds Singing in the Sycamore Tree . . . Dream a Little Dream of Me

Remember the dream about Justin's quilt-to-be?  The quilt for his wedding gift was so clear in that dream!

And the very next day, I was trawling around one of my favorite fabric sites and saw exactly the right combination for the quilt.  So I bought it.  I ordered it late on Monday and it was at my house on Thursday.  From California, no less.

Now all I have to do is decide on a background.  Am thinking white.  Or pale, pale gray.

I want to say a couple of words about Fabricworm, if you'll hang in there with me.  I don't remember how or when I discovered this site.  For ages and ages, I just went there and looked around.  Then a couple of weeks ago they had a bundle of gray fabrics and I caved on the spot and ordered them.  And, they came so quickly!  After they arrived and I'd started playing with them, I realized I was going to need some more of one or two of the fabrics for border and binding.  I emailed the proprietor and received a quick, friendly reply.  Helpful.  Nice.

What I really like, apart from the helpful, the nice, the gorgeous fabrics, and the speedy delivery is that in the bundles, the fabrics are not all from the same line!  Did you read that correctly?  Yes, she combines lines of fabric for a stunning, not-too-matchy-matchy look.  Wasn't I just ranting about the need for this?

I have no affiliation with this shop other than as satisfied, delighted customer.  I'm not getting any kind of a kickback; in fact, the proprietor doesn't know I'm writing about her.  I just thought since I've been so very, very pleased, you might, too.



Wednesday, February 09, 2011

Mooooo

Well, you know, we haven't heard from the COW* lately.  Guess you thought everything was just hunky-dory.  Or that she's snowed in.  Close, but . . .

I've ranted previously about bloggers who seem to need to have paid advertising on their blogs.  Said rant hasn't had any impact that I've been able to measure.

Today's grouse has to do with something kind of related.  There's a relatively new phenomenon I've noticed (and how could I help but notice? [rhetorical question]).  It involves people who write quilting books and then have blog tours to promote their book.  They line up a bunch of popular bloggists and apparently give them a copy of the book and perhaps even another copy to give away, all of this in return for a mention on the blog.  And they line up a bazillion or two of these blogs so that for the next godonlyknowshowlong every single day on some blog or another there will be a pitch for said book.  Just about wears me out.

Okay.  Rant over.



*Cranky Old Woman

The Hopes of Spring

This morning I looked at the thermometer outside the kitchen window and couldn't quite decide whether it was 13 or 14 degrees.  It didn't really matter, though.  They were equally unwelcome.

And then, adding insult to injury, the radio began playing Lara's Theme from Dr. Zhivago, and I felt transported into that sleigh, into that icy cottage.  Brrrrr . . . .

Somewhere, my love, there will be songs to sing
Although the snow covers the hopes of Spring


I turned from the window and my eyes fell upon a vase of gorgeous pink tulips, a birthday gift nearly a week ago from a dear friend.

Thank you, Dottie, for uncovering the hopes of spring . . . .




Monday, February 07, 2011

I Dream a Dream (apologies to Susan Boyle)

God came to Laban in a dream.  God came to Abimelech in a dream.  God came to Jacob . . .  well, you get my drift.  I've often thought how easy it was in Old Testament times for people in a puzzlement to know what to do.  Go to sleep!  God will come or send the answer in a dream!  Wouldn't it be convenient if that still happened?

My friend Kathy's older son is engaged and a September wedding is planned.  That means I need to start working on a gift!  I haven't spent time with Justin in ages, and have never met his fiancee; hence I've no idea what their taste is.  I talked with Kathy who said they were back-to-nature/save the environment types and weren't planning to register for gifts.  I'd been wanting to make a SITP quilt for ages and even had gathered the brown and cream fabrics I intended for it.  I wondered if SITP might be the right quilt for Justin and Tal.  Kathy looked at a picture and thought they would like it.

Then Justin posted something on Facebook that sent me scurrying over to his home page and there I saw pictures of his sweetheart and I wandered over to her page.  I don't know what it was that caused me to doubt.  But I really began having second thoughts about Shakespeare in the Park.

This morning before the alarm went off, I dreamed Joe and I were visiting Kathy and talking in her living room.  There came a bit of a scuffle in the hallway, and I looked over to see Justin and his beloved, creeping out of a room and down some stairs and out the door.  Without even saying hello to us!  As I said, I've never met Tal, but Justin would never be so rude.  The reason for their avoidance became clear:  They hadn't liked the quilt!  They'd been hoping I would make them a different quilt!  And, the way peculiar things happen in dreams, I could clearly see the quilt they wanted!  I know there's a picture of it somewhere on the internet, but a bit of searching this morning came up dry.  Doesn't matter.  I know what it looks like and I know how to make it. Which I certainly will do.

Besides, posting the picture would spoil the surprise.


Sunday, February 06, 2011

Cheesehead for a Day

Yeah, I've got a favorite for today's Super Bowl game.  Not that I intend to watch it though (think of the hours of uninterrupted Bernina time!).  But rather because it brings back a real good memory.

It was nearly the end of the second week in January, 1967.  I was in love and thinking about a wedding and a wonderful future.  I was living with my mother, who had been widowed several years earlier.  Despite an oil-and-water chemistry, she and I got along as best we could.  We both knew it was time-limited.

Within months after my father's sudden passing, my mother -- a life-long homemaker -- had landed herself a job as the secretary in the maintenance office of the local hospital.  Despite being the only woman in the department, she was a valued member of the team; it was she who provided the interface, the explanations, the pacification, between the guys and the people making requests or complaints.  The fellows would do anything for her, and were often a godsend to us when something went wrong at home.  Sometimes I envisioned her as a kind of Snow White, with Tommy the Carpenter and Mike the Plumber, and Steve who did almost anything and drank quite a bit.  She was good to the guys and learned some things from them, too.  She began to understand and to follow baseball, for example.

There must have been endless chatter in the maintenance department that week.  And she apparently had missed the very beginning of the ongoing conversation.  Or perhaps, given the setting, it was the kind of situation where no introduction or explanation was involved.  I can picture her there listening, grasping for clues, trying to figure it all out, under no circumstances wanting to reveal her ignorance.

And then one evening, she apparently couldn't continue the pretend understanding any longer.  With a serious, earnest, and puzzled demeanor she came to me and said, ever so slowly and carefully,

"Nancy, can you tell me who -- or what -- are the Green Bay Packers?"



Saturday, February 05, 2011

One God

Go here, please.

I wish I would have written this.

At the same time, I am so glad that Anne did.


Friday, February 04, 2011

A Productive Evening

With Joe out at a client meeting tonight, Blackberry, Bodacious and I had the house to ourselves.  Bo took the opportunity to catch up on some much-needed sleep, or so he implied.  Blackberry shredded two plastic bags and raided a couple of trashcans, pulling out fabric scraps and gnawing on them.

I got some stuff done, myself.  Finished the last three blocks for Argyle, Anyone? and moved the blocks around and around until I had a pattern that suited me.  I've not sewn them together yet, and now that I'm looking at the photo, I might have to move that one aqua one.  These blocks have been fun and easy to piece and I'm liking the result.  Someone suggested that I might need to do another one in CWs, and, to tell the truth, the idea holds some appeal.

But, wait!  That's not all!  I machined the binding on the Jungle Songs baby quilt and will likely start the hand-stitching of same tomorrow evening.  Then I pieced a back for Neapolitan, who is going out to the machine quilter in a few days.  I started to piece a back for the Sister's Choice quilt, and got so far, and then was tired.

And when I came upstairs, Bodacious was still asleep.


Wednesday, February 02, 2011

Wordless Wednesday #1





Argyle, Anyone?

You know, before my relatively recent infatuation with Civil War fabrics, I was a batik gal through and through.  Couldn't get enough of 'em.  I've got a big, deep Rubbermaid tub of batiks, some FQs but mostly odd pieces left over from ten or twelve years of projects.

I had a 30s kind of a gig awhile back and it ran its course to the point where I just don't want a lot to do with 30s, with the exception of Itsy Bitsy who is on my UFO challenge list.  And something tells me that the CW craze will run out in good time.

And the batiks will go on.

Someone sent me an unfamiliar magazine as a hostess gift for a swap, and perusing it last week presented me with a stunning batik quilt that I couldn't resist.  So the Civil War is on hiatus (I know it isn't going anywhere fast) and General Sherman can just sit there and wait until I get back.  Because I'm just loving and reveling in these batiks.  The quilt in the magazine had a name, but this baby has got to be something like Argyle Adventure.  Oh, I'm lovin' it!

Tuesday, February 01, 2011

Scintillating Scotoma

The first one happened twelve years ago, just a couple of weeks after we'd moved into our present home.  I was sitting at the computer, transcribing a medical report, when I became aware of a shimmering circle with jagged edges in my visual field.  Closing one eye or the other did not make it go away.  The area that shimmered was a blind spot, about a letter or two wide.  I waited for it to go away, but instead it got bigger over a twenty-minute period, and then vanished.  I didn't mention it to anyone, but when it happened again a few weeks later while we were visiting relatives, I became concerned.  Fortunately I had an ophthalmologic appointment scheduled.

My doctor asked some questions, didn't seem concerned, and told me I had a condition called acephalgic (painless) migraine, ocular or optical migraine, or scintillating scotoma.  I like the last name best but tend to use the second.  "Not to worry," she told me.  "Just enjoy the light show."  I don't worry, but I can't say I enjoy the light show because they generally come when I'm reading or at the computer.

They are more common in the spring and in the autumn.  They tend to come in clusters, sometimes three in two weeks and then none for several months.  They last for about twenty minutes and when they go away, sometimes I feel tired or "funny" -- I can't be more specific about "funny."  Just "strange."

Scintillating scotoma is a bit of an annoyance, and that's all.  I'm thankful I don't have full-fledged migraine headaches -- my mother had them and one of my children has suffered from them since the age of six.

I had one last week.  Yesterday I had one in the morning while at work and another when driving home.  A third one struck about an hour after dinner.  I was sewing and I imagine my concentration was impaired because I made the same mistake on three blocks (yes, I know, I'm a big fan of consistency!).  So I gave up and did something else.  And went to bed earlier than usual.