I can't remember if I ever posted a picture of the finished sheep quilt that I made some months back. I hand quilted it using floss in all of the colors of the blocks. I'm donating it to the silent auction at our church's upcoming Oktoberfest.
Cranky Old Woman here, with a rant about what's well on its way to becoming a former friend.
Remember when we all first got on Pinterest and followed each other's pins? And occasionally there would be an ad pop up? It was kind of fun.
And then, insidiously, the "Picked For You" crap started. And the redundancy. To the point that now, it seems, about 10% of the pins are from folk I follow and the rest are sponsored or "picked for me."
Y'know, I looked at a friend's recipe for a tomato pie. And saved it. Now my feed is saturated with tomato pie recipes. Prolly nine today of the original tomato pie and about twelve more different ones. Picked for me. Like I really want to look at all these variations of a dish I might someday make?
And if Pinterest knows me so well that they believe they can pick pins that are applicable to me, why the heck are they giving me shrimp linguini? And crab casseroles? Do they think I no longer have the shellfish allergy? Or are they wishing me dead?
I get it that there have to be ads on Pinterest. I totally get that. I'm not mooing about the ads. I just wish I could turn off "Picked for You" because I'm about fed up.
And if I ever do try that tomato pie and it is any good, I'll publish the recipe right here so that you'll be spared the barrage.
I spent much of this morning making these two blocks. I'd acquired the pattern last week and had some scraps that were just the right size, and so I dug in.
The two blocks took three washer-and-dryer loads to finish. I didn't measure them, but I believe they finish at six inches. And the top one really is straight and not on an angle for the left side. I think.
When I was nearly done, it occurred to me that a color scheme of red-orange-gold-yellow on black would have been more appropriate for today.
The eclipse was mostly clouded over here in my part of Near Philadelphia. I liked looking at NASA's footage from South Carolina, and thought fondly of my friend Lori in Madras whose town is suddenly the place to be!
The guild is making a charity quilt (I don't know what charity exactly but what does that matter?) and this past week fabric packets were distributed with the instructions to make 3", 6", 9", or 12" stars using the purple that barely shows up in the photo as a background.
I decided to go with 6" and spent much of yesterday making this group.
There is one other design that I want to do but I've run out of background, so the Powers That Be are sending me some more.
Yesterday I read this article and posted a link to it on my Facebook page. I posted it because the words virtue signaling were new to me and I was thinking that the concept explained a lot of what I've seen recently. Virtue signaling, according to an on-line dictionary is "the action or practice of publicly expressing opinions or sentiments intended to demonstrate one's good character or the moral correctness of one's position on a particular issue." It seems it is a way to get credit for being a good person without having to actually do anything good. Earlier today I posted a link to this blog post on my Facebook page. I posted it because the writer had articulated so well the jumble of thoughts that have swirled around in my head for so many weeks. At least that is the reason I believe I had for the posting. Who knows what my subconscious is up to? Now I'm thinking about having posted the link to the piece about Mr. Trump's character was virtue sharing on my part. Facebook is a place to share abridged or redacted versions of ourselves; that is, we tend to share pieces of ourselves that we want people to know about, pieces that show us in a good light. There's another piece to it, though. I think that I -- and many of my Facebook friends -- post things that might be interpreted as virtue sharing for a different reason. For me, it's because I often feel helpless, powerless in the face of this President; I get to a point where I think, "I have to do something!" and so I rail a bit on Facebook because I think that is all I can do. But the Facebook mini-rant doesn't accomplish anything, really. It's a conundrum.
Like so many people I know, I am angry, sad, frustrated, and a good many other things by what is going on in our country and by the words and actions of its leadership. But it isn't enough to just talk about it. I need to find other ways to express my convictions. Ways of actions rather than words.
A couple of weeks ago, we celebrated our 50th wedding anniversary. Our party was on the actual day of our anniversary and we limited the attendees to family. Joe's brother, wife, and daughter came from afar to join all of our kids, grandchildren, my sister and her family, and a couple of special cousins. The evening was all about being a family and is something we will look back on with such love. Our great-niece, a photographer, provided us with 304 photos of the event, one of which is pictured here.
The next day, Joe and I and our children and grandchildren all went away for a week. I had rented a big old house in -- where else? -- Cape May, of course. We were just a couple of blocks from the beach, there was plenty of room for everyone, the weather held up surprisingly well, and, as they say, a good time was had by all. It was especially nice for the little ones; the six cousins get together infrequently, and always for a much shorter period of time. This was totally different. Here they are:
I'm really not much of a blogger any more. One would think that a half-retired person working part-time and having only one other person and one dog at home would have plenty of time to post. I suppose I do have plenty of time, but it seems I choose to spend it in other ways. Today I had fun fooling around with some new F8s and FQs that came in the mail recently. I'd pre-ordered them and completely forgotten, so it was a wonderful surprise when they appeared in the mailbox. The photo does not do justice to the richness of the colors.