EMZ-Piney Post

February ~~ Little Quilt

2012-02-13T20:08:00.001-08:00

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY !!

February's little quilt is the Drunkard's Path, a favorite old patchwork pattern. The block is made from two units - a small square with a fourth circle set in the corner - usually made of two colors, a red or blue circle on a white block. I chose to applique the fourth circles rather than try to sew the curved seams. This little quilt is made from sixty four, one and one-half inch blocks.

Charlotte

Farm Wife ~~ Monday

2012-02-13T08:40:00.000-08:00

These are the little twins; I've named them Pete and Repeat since they look so much alike. They've been turned out into the pasture with their mother and try to eat from the big troughs with the other heifers.

It's snowing here this morning; the cows have gathered over close to the fence row that is lined with cedars, waiting for their hay. I think snow is pretty, and I like to see it falling, but I do always feel sorry for the livestock. I just had to get out in it for a while to feed the cats at the barn and look things over. So far it hasn't been cold enough for the ponds to freeze over.

Now I'm going to quilt; maybe in a few days I'll have something to show for my time. Hope you're having a good winter day.

Charlotte

Communicating By Postcard

2012-02-09T11:43:00.000-08:00

Other than a postcard reminding you of a dental or doctor's appointment, when was the last time you received one of these little notes of communication in the mail? With the growing popularity of cell phones and email messages, I doubt there are many postcards bought today. A photo can be sent immediately from a vacation spot or a family gathering without going through the delay of the postal service.

Old postcards are interesting to me, especially when there's a message on the back like this one has, sent to a little girl from her grandma, dated 5/10/09:

"Dear, I am coming to see you before long, when Homer comes...We are all well.

This card is very special since it was sent by my mother to her niece:

"Dear Little Robbie Marie, How are you? Did you get a lot of valentines? I haven't got any yet... Did you eat lots of snow? I took one bite from some Junior had..."

These postcards are examples of greeting cards.

This is an example of a photo card. These became available whenever Kodak developed cards that allowed pictures to be made directly from negatives onto a pre-printed back. This card was sent to Mama by her daddy; can you imagine how thrilled she was to get a card of her very own from her daddy?

Even though the message was brief, it was so special to her that it's still with us today. Notice the one cent stamp and the 1928 postmark.

The photo cards also made it possible to send family pictures to folks living far away, who might not have seen the new baby.

And of course there were the scenic cards, probably the ones we're most familiar with, sent from vacation spots or bought as a souvenir, and carrying messages like,

"Well, we made it okay. Everyone is fine and wish you were here with us. Will see you soon." or "We are still driving on our way...It has been a lovely day." And, "Dear Mother and Father,

We've been running around over the park all day.

Tomorrow we're just going to sit and read."

Cards sent from places none of the home folks could ever see any other way, were always welcomed.

Do you have a postcard collection, or do you send postcards? If you're interested in the history of postcards, this is an interesting website to visit:

www.emotionscards.com/museum/historyofpostcards.htm

Farm Wife ~~ Monday

2012-02-06T16:23:00.001-08:00

This little piece of sculpture, dated 1985, was made by our middle daughter in a college art class. I guess it's a pretty good depiction of Popa and me, although we're not quite that old looking yet ~~ I don't think ~~ and the hat would more likely be on me. I think it's a splendid work of art! She is very talented, and as a child, when playing with her sisters, she would be making something for the dolls to wear instead of just carrying the dolls around. Her talent must come from her daddy, for they both can do just about anything they set their mind to do.

To see more of her work, go to the second half of the post for Nov. 18, 2010, We need a House.

Wild Farm Birds and Animals

2012-02-03T09:07:00.001-08:00

We don't have many birds around the yard during the winter unless there's snow on the ground; then the little juncos just appear out of nowhere. But we do have large birds during the winter, such as Canadian geese, (this picture was taken last summer but they're here all winter

and then there's Edgar Allen Crow, (first picture) at the chicken house most mornings.

Recently, this hawk has been coming to the fence in back of the house almost every morning. On this morning, it was raining, and the hawk looked all puffed out and very wet.

Now and then it flies down and catches something (?)

Just this past week we've had bald eagles in the trees around the pasture.

Of course we've seen crows and hawks all of our lives; any farm wife knew hawks were a threat to her baby chickens or her laying hens. Crows were a nuisance in farmers' corn and
watermelon fields. But until a few years ago, the only time we would see geese was in the fall or spring as they flew overhead in their migration paths; bald eagles were only birds we had heard about or seen pictures of, so it's quite a thrill to be close to them.

There are other animals on the farm too that we didn't see when we were children: armadillos, deer, coyotes, and very rarely, a raccoon. Now these have become pests, making holes in the fields, eating flowers and garden plants, and, in the case of the raccoon, climbing the ladders of the feed bins at the chicken houses and going inside the bins with no way out. Sometimes we see as many as thirty deer grazing in the fields; Popa says when he was younger they had to go to the mountains to hunt deer. Pests or not, it's still somewhat thrilling to see them up close; that is all but armadillos and I'd be happy to never see another one.

The Borrowed Toothbrush

2012-02-01T11:32:00.000-08:00

For some reason, a visit to the dentist is usually not an experience a person enjoys. I was told once, by my dentist, if my husband had looked in my mouth before we were married, he wouldn't have married me. I didn't take it too personal and continued going to him for treatment until, at the age of 46, I took the big plunge and got braces. Now when I go to the dentist, I only see him once a year; the cleaning, x-rays, etc. are done by a dental hygienist. We talk and have even become friends in some cases.
There is no reason now to have dirty teeth. After each visit, the hygienist gives me a "goody" bag containing a new brush, toothpaste, and dental floss. Over time I've accumulated quite a collection of brushes.
Brushes have not always been available, or maybe affordable, for all children. As a child, I knew how to break off a little stem from a sassafras bush, chew one end until it was frayed, and then use it as a toothbrush. Of course it was pretty stiff and rough on my gums. I had a store-bought toothbrush; the sassafras brush was just something to try and I liked its taste.
I'd think all children have access to a toothbrush now and most probably complain about the chore of cleaning their teeth. This brings to mind a little story about my mother when she was a child:
Mama wanted a toothbrush; a real one with soft bristles and a celluloid handle.
She was tired of the rough, sassafras brushes she made and used on her walk to school each day. Two girls in the school had store-bought brushes and she was sure her teeth never looked as bright and shiny as their teeth. She looked with envy at the real brush someone had given to her baby brother. He didn't use it much; why couldn't she borrow it? So without anyone knowing it, she slipped the brush out of the house and brushed her teeth. How clean they felt! She ran her tongue over and around every tooth, savoring their sleekness. She went inside and looked into the mirror; how pretty and white her teeth were! But now she must put the brush back before someone missed it. First she would wash it good. There was a pan of hot water on the heater; she could use it to scald the brush. So she took the pan to the porch and poured the water over the brush. To her surprise, the bristles began falling out of the celluloid handle and in a jiffy they were all out. The brush was ruined.
Now I don't know what kind of trouble she was in, she didn't tell me that. However, it made such an impression on her that she remembered it for the rest of her life.
How spoiled we are!

Farm Wife ~~ Hand Signals

2012-01-30T10:51:00.000-08:00

Image taken from the Sept/Oct, 1995 issue of Country Woman magazine

Hand signals can be confusing for a farm wife; sometimes I feel like I'm supposed to read Popa's mind. It's the worst whenever I'm the one in the tractor; what do all the circling motions mean? Turn the steering wheel right or left? Move forward or stop? The wave, back and forth, are we finished? The one signal I do know is the disgruntled frown; I just don't know, but I can't read minds.

January ~~ Little Quilt

2012-01-27T11:31:00.000-08:00

Pattern: Road to California

Size: 20" x 24"

Fabrics: Cotton/cotton, polyester; many are reproduction fabrics designed by Judi Rothermel for Marcus Brothers. Muslin lining.

Block sizes: four-patch blocks, one inch squares; half square triangle blocks, two inches

Do You Remember These?

2012-01-24T14:42:00.000-08:00

A repost:

Now I'm sure most of you have never used a rub board or flat irons, but you may remember your grandmother having them. Washday was a time of hard labor for women in days gone by, and it had to be done whether the weather was hot or cold. This is how washday was for my mother in the 40's:

First of all, water had to be carried up the hill from the well, and the big black iron wash pot was filled. Daddy built a fire under the pot to heat the water and then went back down the hill to carry more water to fill the galvanized wash tub; it took several trips to fill the tub. Sometimes, while he was at the well, the horses came and drank part of the water; that's when his temper might flare. With his part of the washday work finished, he went off to the field to plow. Mama brought out the white clothes first and put them into the hot water with some slivers of lye soap. She let the clothes stay in the hot water and simmer for a while before she began taking things out, one piece at a time, and rubbing them on the rub board. When the piece looked clean enough to suit her, she dropped it into the tub of clean water and rinsed it. With all the pieces washed, and the water rung out of them, she made up a batch of Faultless starch; dresses and the Sunday shirt were dipped into the starch and then squeezed out. No matter if the wind was blowing cold, or the sun was blazing, she hung each piece of clothing on the clothesline to dry.

The clothing, sheets, towels, etc. were brought inside after they had dried. Mama took the dresses and Sunday shirt and sprinkled water from her fingers over them, rolled them up into a ball, and let them sit a while before she ironed them the next day. The heavy irons were heated on the stove; to test them, to see when they were hot enough, she dampened her finger and quickly tapped the bottom of the iron. A sizzle from the moisture meant the iron was ready to use. She had learned through the years not to use an iron that was too hot; a scorched iron print on a Sunday shirt was not a good thing!

As the years passed, laundromats came into town, and occasionally Daddy would take us there to do the laundry. It was much easier on Mama. All the machines with their rollers for pressing the water out of the clothes were a wonder to me. But I was afraid to put an article through the rollers; maybe my fingers would get caught and pull me through! We always took the clothes home to dry them on the line.

We should never complain about doing the laundry; the water is as close as a faucet on the wall, it's already hot or cold, detergents are in a box and we don't have to touch them to chafe our hands. The dryer is sitting right next to the washing machine; if there's rain we can still wash things, and most fabrics come out of the dryer not needing to be ironed much at all, and if they do, the iron reaches a perfect temperature and shuts down. But, it would be nice if the clothes went to the closet and drawers by themselves.

Farm Wife ~~ Chore Coat

2012-01-23T15:02:00.000-08:00

My precious chore coat is a burgundy, plaid flannel with a quilted lining. It's served me well for about three years now; the cuffs are frayed and the buttonholes have become too large for the buttons, so most of them won't stay fastened. But, I think I can make it last the rest of this winter. Let's see ~~ what's in my pockets today:

from left to right ~~

Two pairs of gloves ~ one pair for dirty work and a pair of brown jersey gloves for warmth

An Old Timer pocket knife for cutting hay twine

A yellow tag button for fastening an ear tag in a calf's ear

A little blue light to guide me past cow patties in the barn on the way to the overhead light switch, when chores come late

Nylon cord ~ one never knows when a gate might need to be tied

Tissues in a sandwich bag ~ cold air can give a gal the sniffles

A Sonic peppermint candy to fend off the weak trembles

My chore coat serves me well.

Charlotte

Beyond Saving

2012-01-20T13:19:00.000-08:00

A blogging friend from http://patchofzinnias.blogspot.com/2012/01 , has started the new year with a 366 Challenge (leap year gives us 366 days you know). She intends to donate, gift, or toss out one item from her home for each day of the year. Doesn't that sound like a good idea?

I really try to keep the clutter cleared out; actually the most cluttered room in this house is Popa's office, and I don't dare clear anything out of there. lol

The challenge encouraged me to look through some closets where things had been shoved back. I found two old feather pillows with quills sticking out here and there and the ticking seams coming open, a little pink baby blanket with frayed binding, and two old pillow shams. On the bottom of the shelf was an old quilt stored inside a plastic bag. I remember putting it in the bag because it smelled like old crayons and I didn't want it touching anything else. When I got it out and smelled it, the odor was gone! Maybe a good wash and it could be used again, so into the machine it went. Now my washing machine doesn't know the difference between the delicate cycle and the regular cycle; it swishes just as fast no matter the setting. Imagine my surprise when I opened the washer and attempted to lift it out, and balls of cotton went everywhere! Parts of the quilt had simply disintegrated and its innards had spilled out!

Now this made me sad, because many of the little 1 1/2 inch squares were made of scraps from clothing I had worn as a child, and I even recognized some from Mama's dresses.

I cut off a section that was still intact; perhaps a little stuffed bear could be made out of it. But that would just be another clutter in the closet! I'll think about it ~~~

Can you believe this post? I must be desperate to write about a tattered quilt!

Smiles, Charlotte

Bringing Out Memories of My First Dishes

2012-01-18T09:34:00.000-08:00

These were the first dishes I had as a new bride in 1960; Fire King Jadite restaurant ware. They were a shower gift from my Aunt Hazel, and I'm pretty sure she took these from her own kitchen.

This line of dinnerware was produced by the Anchor Hocking Company and was used sometimes as a promotional item at gas stations, grocery stores, and small pieces were included in boxes of oatmeal, etc. They carry the mark of Oven Ware on the back.

The pieces were also used in schools and restaurants because of their durability. My plates are called grill plates because of the division in them. They measure 9 1/2 inches across, small in comparison to most plates today (used back in the day before food had to be served in super-sized portions). The mugs are short and heavy; I have all six of them, in perfect condition. The plates have some crazing in the large area. Three were broken, since these were used every day for some years, but I found two in a flea market and paid $2.00 for each since they weren't in perfect condition either.

So, I'll leave out a couple of place settings just for their beauty to be enjoyed, and to remember that they held the first ever-so-humble meals I prepared as a new bride.

Do you have pieces of Fire King dinnerware? Or maybe you might have other dinnerware you had as a new bride? Please share it with us.

I wanted to provide more information on this line of glassware, but Wikipedia is blacked out today. If you're interested perhaps you can find something else on Google.
Charlotte

Farm Wife ~~ Twins

2012-01-16T18:00:00.001-08:00

We had another set of twin calves last week; Angus heifers. This time the cow took both, but we brought them home to the barn to make sure they kept up with her the first days of their lives and she can be fed grain to help her give more milk. The picture makes one look larger than the other, but actually they are about the same.

A few days from now I plan to start making grain available to them. It's sweet how close they stay together.

An Attention-Grabbing Expression

2012-01-12T11:56:00.000-08:00

We had a good Christmas dinner and everyone sat back, full and content, visiting with one another. Then, one by one, the cell phones came out for everyone except Lily and me; I don't have one and the one she has is old and used. She calls it a dinosaur. I have a cordless phone. The grandchildren text one another, even though they're sitting right next to each other, and maybe send a message to someone having dinner with their own family. One son-in-law brags, "My phone has over 600 songs in itunes!" Another holds his phone in the air and says, "My phone has these pictures we took!" Even Popa has his cell phone out, and looking through his bifocals he looks intense as he scrolls and drags his finger across the screen. Not wanting to be left out completely I try to join the conversation, and amid all the discussion I interrupt with, "My phone has a new battery; now I can take it to the bathroom with me!"

All this took me back to a story I have heard since I was a child. I suppose it is true and it went something like this:

A group of women were sitting around a quilt, and as they stitched, their conversation turned to a discussion of their geese. "My goose got really big this year and..." Another chimed in with her boasting, "My goose got in the garden and..." A shy young woman sitting at the end of the quilt thought she would tell about her goose, "My goose..." She was interrupted as another woman said, "My goose raised four goslings this summer..." Each time the young woman tried to tell about her goose, someone else would tell about hers. Finally, in desperation the young woman said loudly, "MY GOOSE!" All the ladies stopped talking and stared at her as she meekly said, "My goose has soft feathers."

People I grew up with used the expression, "My goose". Usually it would be used between friends, privately, who found themselves among several people in a room, who were talking loudly or all at the same time. So, whenever I tried to tell about my cordless phone, I looked over at my daughter and said, "My goose!..." She knew what I meant!

You're probably thinking, "How stupid!" But we were a close-knit community and had ways of bringing a little humor into a life filled with hard work; laughter brought us together.

Farm Wife ---

2012-01-09T05:58:00.000-08:00

"A farmer needs two wives, in my opinion. One to keep house and one to work on the farm. I'd have to take the latter. You're not going to get paid for either job anyway.
I have only two requests when I die. Number one is when my obituary is written, I want to be known as a farm wife instead of a frowzy old housewife. Number two is that I be buried with my jeans, t-shirt and boots on. I might have to do a few chores when I get to that big farm in the sky!"

_Judy Horton, Arkansas farm wife

FARM JOURNAL/ February1985

Puzzled !!!

2012-01-06T08:14:00.000-08:00

Two new puzzles were given to me at Christmas. Putting puzzles together is one of my favorite things to do; howbeit, they do make me feel guilty for wasting time. For instance, I've more or less neglected my quilting this week, the clothes that need to be ironed are still waiting in the basket, but I have keep up with the housework and cooking, and my farm chores.
This puzzle has 1000 pieces, many which look exactly the same in shape and color, and there have been times I've thought about dumping it all back into the box; however, when I look at it I realize quite a bit has been done in five days (and nights). Is it true keeping the mind busy is a good thing? Maybe so, if I don't go insane first!

Do you like to work puzzles?

A New Year's Surprise Gift

2012-01-03T11:02:00.001-08:00

There is an eighty five year old man who attends church with us. When we first started going to church there, his wife was with him. She was a little woman and wore red lipstick, her cheeks were colored brightly, and her hair was always hidden beneath a turban-type cover; traits which gave her character without words. Mr. T always opened the truck door for her and people often saw them in Wendy's, where he would seat her and then go order their meal. They had no children.

The last time I saw her was in the hospital; I didn't know she was there until I heard him talking to her, so I peeked in to see if it was a good time to visit with her. He asked me to come in and told her I was there. She gave no response and had he not been in the room, I wouldn't have known her; the turban wasn't covering her thinning white hair and her face was pale. She passed away a few days later.

Time seems to have helped heal his loneliness; he still comes to church and every Sunday he says the prayer before the sermon, always, always, praying for our country, our leaders, our military men and women, and that we will all grow to be "more like the gentle Jesus."

There were times when I saw him give a piece of jewelry to some of the women, and a week ago he told me, "I don't mean to leave you out; I just didn't know if you wear rings." So I was totally honest and told him since arthritis has made my knuckles large I don't wear rings; even my wedding ring has been put away. Last Sunday, he was waiting for me at the door with this:

Now when you get as old as I am, any little gesture of kindness means so much. I told him, "This is one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me," to which he replied, "I bet your husband gets you things nicer than this." I laughed and said, "He buys me farm things, like tractors, not jewels."

Somehow, his kindness comes straight from the Bible: "Be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." Ephesians 4:32

A New Year's Surprise Visit

2012-01-02T17:48:00.000-08:00

So, here we are, into the new year. I've been reading your blog posts and it seems everyone had a good Christmas. Ours was fairly quiet with all the family for the noon meal except two grandchildren and a daughter and son-in-law. One of the grandsons called from CO so we had a "visit" of sorts with him.

Popa gifted me with two new jigsaw puzzles and I waited until yesterday to work on one. Last night, after supper, I was working on it, and the phone rang. I heard Popa say, "Yes, we'll be here, come on over." And then he gave the person directions to our house. I asked who had called and he said, "The Mennonite group wants to come to our house and sing for us." I scurried around, making the room ready for visitors, but he said they'd probably stay outside; then, car after car came up to the house, and when we opened the door, a large group, mostly teenagers came inside out of the cold. There were two adult couples with them. And then they sang; oh my, what beautiful music! The voices of those girls were like voices of angels, and behind them the boys filled in with bass notes and one man sang tenor. They allowed me to sing with them and I was so happy to blend my voice with theirs.

After the young people left, the adults stayed and talked for a while. When the women found out that I have a quilt in the frames, one woman asked, "Can we see it?" And then, in spite of the fact that I was wearing jeans and they were wearing little bonnets, we just became three women, loving music and quilting.

This new year's visit was one of the most wonderful things anyone could have ever done for us and I'm thankful they came, bearing gifts of praise to God.

Charlotte

Aww---

2011-12-25T05:59:00.000-08:00

Christmas Past -- Christmas Morning

2011-12-23T09:25:00.000-08:00

Charlotte awoke when she heard Daddy building the fire in the heater. She shook Wanda and crawled out of the warm bed into the cold air of the north room. She saw the new doll sticking out of her stocking before she got to the door.

"Oh, how pretty she is! Look Wanda, isn't she pretty?"

The doll didn't have glass eyes and shiny hair, and it didn't drink a bottle or wet its pants. It was just an ordinary doll with a pressed sawdust head and a stuffed cloth body. But it was new and clean and needed a little girl to love it. She hugged the doll close and took her stocking to the warmth of the heater to see what else was inside. There were some new barrettes for her hair, and rolled up inside was a book of the beautiful paper dolls. In the very bottom were dresses for her new doll.

Later in the morning Charlotte said to Mama, "I love my new doll! She's just right!"

"Someday, Santa will bring you a doll with glossy hair. I just know he will," said Mama.

There may not be time for me to post anything else until after Christmas, so I want to wish all who read my feeble attempts at writing, a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS with your families; may you be blessed with good health and happiness.

Blessings in Christ,

Charlotte

Do Opposites Attract?

2011-12-21T10:52:00.000-08:00

We're all familiar with the statement that opposites attract; but do they really? I guess when you look at these pictures you can see that yes, sometimes they do, for this smiling little girl and this serious little boy have been attracted to one another for a long time now. Today is their fifty-first wedding anniversary. In case you haven't already guessed, this is Mama Charlotte and Popa; I still smile and he's still serious.

Blessings

...The Christmas Program

2011-12-20T10:27:00.000-08:00

...The program began, and for a while Charlotte forgot that she would be singing by herself. One by one the other little boys and girls went to the front of the room and recited the poems they had learned. Dane walked to the edge of the stage; he put his hands behind his back and began:

"Christmas is bright, Christmas is gay; all of us..." He looked at his mother. "All of us love..." she said quietly. "Oh yeah! All of us love Christmas Day!" Everyone clapped and he ran back to the bench and sat down.

"And now, Charlotte is going to sing 'Up on the Housetop' for us," said Mr. Sears.
Charlotte swallowed hard and walked to the stage. She clasped her hands together tightly behind her back and opened her mouth. Only a faint "Up on the housetop, reindeer pause" came out. She cleared her throat and started again:

"Up on the housetop reindeer pause,
Out jumps good old Santa Claus;
Down thro' the chimney with lots of toys,
All for the little ones' Christmas joys.
Ho, ho, ho! Who wouldn't go!
Ho, ho, ho! Who wouldn't go!
Up on the housetop, click, click, click,
Down thro' the chimney with good Saint Nick."

She paused and swallowed. She looked at Mama, who gave her a smile and a nod to sing more, so she continued with the second verse. Again she paused; no one was laughing at her, but rather the people seemed to be enjoying her song, so she started the last verse with her clear little voice more confident now:

"Next comes the stocking of little Will;
Oh, just see what a glorious fill;
Here is a hammer and lots of tacks,
Also a ball and a whip that cracks!"

She brought her hands around in front and slapped them together to make a sound for the "whip that cracks!" The audience clapped loudly! She had done it! Now she could sit back and enjoy the rest of the program.

After the older children presented their play, some of them passed out the gifts. Charlotte got a present wrapped in red tissue paper and tied with a white ribbon. She opened it carefully so Mama could save the paper. Inside was a box of eight crayons and a coloring book. "Look, Mama," she said. "Real colors that aren't broken!"

Next, bags of candy and fruit were passed out to the children. There was a big red apple, an orange, English walnuts and hard candy with designs swirling through the middle, inside each bag. Humidity had made the candy sticky and smudges of sweet color were on the peelings of the apple and the orange.

Charlotte was tired when she got home. Wanda reminded her to hang her stocking, so she put it on the doorknob near the Christmas tree. After they snuggled down into the feather bed, she listened for reindeer paws on the housetop. And then she thought about the switches the boy had told Santa to bring to her.

"Wanda," she whispered, "does Santa really bring switches to little girls?"
"I don't think so; I never got any," she said.....

More on Christmas Past

2011-12-15T10:13:00.000-08:00

Now the night for the program at church was only one day away. Mama was baking in the kitchen. Christmas music came from the radio; little boys and girls were singing Joy to the World. Charlotte pulled a chair up to the radio table, climbed up and turned the radio around to one side so she could look into the back.
"Mama! Charlotte's playing with the radio!" called Wanda. "She's about to pull it off the table!"
Mama hurried from the kitchen, wiping flour on her apron. "What are you doing?" she asked Charlotte.
"I'm trying to see the boys and girls in the radio. Do you hear them?" She leaned close to the radio and tried to look inside. Mama laughed and said they would have to be very tiny to fit in there.
The next day passed slowly for Charlotte. She snooped around under the Christmas tree that she and Wanda had decorated. It was an ordinary cedar tree, taken from a fence row, a little flat on one side, but when scooted up against the wall, it looked fine. They didn't have much to put on the tree: a few old colored glass balls, a wrinkled tinsel garland, and icicles saved from years gone by. Mama had put a piece of cotton quilt batting around the base of the tree to look like it was standing in snow. Several times during the day Wanda threatened Charlotte by reminding her of the switches the boy had told Santa to bring.
Mama fixed an early supper and they all dressed warmly before walking to the church for the program. Charlotte wore her best pair of corduroy pants to keep her warm.
She had never seen such a tall Christmas tree! It actually touched the ceiling and was covered from top to bottom with beautiful glass balls, popcorn garland, and paper chains. Every branch had new, glistening icicles, and underneath the tree were packages wrapped in pretty tissue papers and tied with crinkled ribbons....

Do you remember the anticipation you felt as a child while waiting for Christmas? Did you snoop and peek?

Just a Little Touch of Christmas Memories

2011-12-12T12:51:00.000-08:00

Another re post:

The following is an excerpt from my book, In the Shade of the White Oak ...

"Up on the house top, reindeers' paws,Out jumps good ol' Santy Claus!"Charlotte was learning the words of a song to sing at the church Christmas program.

"It's not 'reindeers' paws'!" said Wanda. "It's reindeer pause! That means the reindeer are stopping on the housetop. Now try again."
There was excitement everywhere! Today Mama and the girls were going to town with Daddy as he went to work at the cream station. Wanda said Santa Claus would be at the courthouse. Charlotte had never seen Santa Claus in person, just in pictures.

The streets of Clarksville were bustling with shoppers. There were many little children, clutching their mothers' hands, waiting for a chance to tell Santa what they wanted for Christmas. Charlotte wasn't sure she wanted to talk to him. "I don't think he knows me," she said. Mama took Wanda and Charlotte inside the Ben Franklin store to wait until time for Santa to come. Charlotte was speechless when she saw so many shelves covered with dolls of all sizes. She had looked at the dolls in the Sears catalog until the pages were frayed, but somehow it was different seeing them here on the shelves. She reached out to touch the soft, silky hair on one of the dolls. "Don't touch the dolls, little girl!" She quickly pulled her hand back and looked up. A salesclerk was standing over her, looking sternly. Mama took Charlotte's hand and led her around the end of the shelves to look at something else.
At ten o'clock people started gathering in front of the courthouse. Mama took Wanda and Charlotte across the street. "Wanda, you take Charlotte by the hand and go with her."
The line moved slowly; a few children were stopping to sit in Santa's lap. Charlotte decided she wouldn't do that! Some boys and girls looked too old to sit on his lap, and some were crying babies, too young to know why they were there.
Now Charlotte was standing in front of Santa. "Well, hello there, little girl," he said. "Ho! Ho! Ho! What would you like for Christmas? Maybe a baby doll or a tricycle?"
She turned from him and put her hand across her face.
"Maybe she wants a bundle of switches!" laughed a big boy.
Wanda frowned at him and said to Santa, "She wants a doll and some paper dolls, please." She tugged at Charlotte's sleeve and started to leave.
"Wait a minute," said Santa, "here is a bag of candy for you."
They walked quickly on through the courthouse and met Mama outside. "Well, what did you think of Santa Claus?" she asked.
"She wouldn't talk to him," said Wanda. "I guess that means she won't get anything in her stocking.".......

Do you remember having a visit with Santa?

A Winter Day -- 1942

2011-12-09T17:15:00.000-08:00

A re post:

It would have been a day like today, raw and cold, and the wind driving the cold straight to the bones. All but the necessary outside work, milking the cow, feeding and watering the chickens, was laid aside and we gathered close to the heating stove. The closed door shut out the unheated air from the north room and soon the little front room began to warm despite the wind squeezing in around the window, giving movement to the curtain.

Uncle Dewey, Aunt Leola, and Baby Dane came for dinner and then stayed to visit in the afternoon. Mama sent Daddy to the smoke house for a chunk of meat, cut off of the sugar cured ham hanging from the rafters, and then he went down into the cellar for potatoes. She also cooked dried peas, buttermilk biscuits and red eye gravy, and finished off the meal with more biscuits spread with sweet butter and blackberry jelly. While the women cleaned the kitchen, Daddy put more coal into the heating stove, and then he and Uncle Dewey took out their tobacco pouches and cigarette papers, rolled cigarettes and sat around the radio, listening for any news about the war that was raging across the ocean, a world away from this rural home.

Baby Dane, two months old, and Charlotte, twenty months old, were asleep now, so the adults pulled up their chairs around the little table and poured out pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. They could have played dominoes, checkers, or Chinese checkers. They talked and laughed with one another as they put the pieces into place; the picture grew, and the warmth of their friendship pushed the cold away, and before long the sun slid lower in the west, the shadows grew long and Wanda came home from school.

Now Daddy went to the barn to do the evening chores and carried a fresh bucket of water up from the well. Wanda gathered the eggs, Mama put Charlotte in the swing hanging from the door frame while she warmed up the leftovers, and then the family settled in for another cold night.

Simple

2011-12-08T11:20:00.000-08:00

Last week I found this simple apron pattern; how perfect, one for mom and one for daughter.

Each calls for very little fabric; in fact, less than a yard.

I made this one in a child's size from a fat quarter, and used the solid blue for waistband, ties and bias trim. I really like it; makes me think of Alice in Wonderland.

Most apron patterns call for 1/4" double fold bias tape and sometimes it's hard to find the right color. Recently I got a new 1/2" bias tape maker; now I can make my own 1/4" double fold tape to match colors.

Connecting Threads, an online fabric site, has a terrific sale right now; maybe it's a good time to gift myself with supplies for making aprons since I plan to use this pattern a lot.

Bright Colors for a Drab Day

2011-12-05T13:08:00.001-08:00

This is another doll quilt; bright colors to brighten this drab day.

We've had lots and lots and lots of rain since Sat. afternoon. Now I don't mean to sound like some folks in days of old, but do you ever wonder why it is things can't be evened out? It hasn't been long ago that I was posting about the drought -- well, it's broken!! Poor cattle!

Charming

2011-12-03T08:51:00.000-08:00

This is a good thing to remember today:
Don't worry, don't hurry, do your best; leave the rest!
I'll let this picture speak for itself:

Charlotte

Getting Things Ready for Another Flock

2011-12-02T12:20:00.000-08:00

We have about two more weeks before we get a new flock of baby chickens. We're going to be out almost a month so that has given Popa a chance to make things ready for the cold weather ahead. Of course that makes a long time between pay days. Today we have a crew on the farm putting a foam material in the ridge and along the foundation of the two older houses, hoping to block cold air from coming in. Not only will that make the chickens more comfortable, but it will help to keep from using so much fuel for the heaters.

Two days ago this semi-load of propane was delivered; do the math for that, and you can see why we're trying to save fuel!

While I'm on "vacation", the spider web quilt gets a little more done on it each day. I may just forget how to raise chickens ;).

Charlotte

Quilt Beginnings, part 2

2011-11-30T14:34:00.000-08:00

Another repost:

When Mama retired from the job in town, I got to spend more time with her. My husband and girls were back in school so I would go over, spend a few hours quilting with her, and eat the wonderful meal she always prepared; delicious, baked sweet potatoes were always waiting for me. I knew my stitches were not as neat and tidy as hers, even though her fingers were knotted from arthritis. She never complained about my stitches, but rather encouraged me to continue.

By this time she was entering quilts in the county fair and most always won blue ribbons. One of the most tedious tops she pieced was called Joseph’s Coat of Many Colors. It was made from melon shaped pieces, each one from a different fabric. Can’t you just imagine what a chore it must have been to get perfect points where those melons joined? She had developed her own technique of using a little gathering thread to draw them together. This is a picture of one of her Joseph’s Coats.

Now I had pieced a few tops myself and did machine quilting but was never really pleased with the stitching on them. I believe the first top I pieced was a Drunkard’s Path; I was a teenager at the time. Each block was made from a different print and the solid parts were made from feed sacks that had been dyed a light blue. That quilt, all faded and tattered, is now in my husband’s tool shed, used to cover things in cold weather. I went on to more difficult patterns such as the Double Wedding Ring, made from scraps given to me by my husband’s grandmother. It became one of the first quilts I quilted by hand.

Daddy made some quilting frames for me and soon I was laying out lining, batting and top on the carpet, pinning and rolling it all up. That was such a chore for me and became even worse as I aged. So, sometime back, my husband made some new frames for me; they have three rollers and now I can put up a quilt in a jiffy, by myself, standing up, and the whole thing is neater and smoother.

These are my frames: no fancy additions, just very workable; also a nice cabinet for storing completed quilts and tops. (The quilt is called String Bars, from the book, Liberated String Quilts by Gwen Marston.) I'll have to learn how to put the pictures in the right place. For some reason they want to load in front of the script.

This is my sewing area, with cabinets also made by my husband, from oak harvested from our own land. It was supposed to have doors on the upper shelves, but I’ve come to like the open look. My machine is a simple Singer; I like the control I have over the speed but it drives me nuts when it comes to unthreading the needle unless I have the needle positioned to come down before cutting the thread.

Next post I will continue the quilting saga. Have a good day!!
Charlotte

Quilt Beginnings

2011-11-28T07:33:00.000-08:00

We are in the process of setting up a new computer; I don't have access to my pictures yet, so this is a repost

It seems, had I been born in the winter, I would have been born under a quilt in frames hanging from the ceiling. That's how quilting memories began for me. Mama's frames were four simple wooden strips, held together at the corners with nails and hung from the ceiling with cords. As she progressed with the stitching, the nails were taken out of the holes in the corners, the strips rolled, and the nails replaced. At night, when we were all inside the small room, the cords were wrapped around the ends of the strips and the quilt was raised high enough for us to walk under. If time permitted, the quilt was let down the next day and stitching started again. My aunt came on some days, and her little boy and I played under the quilt while they stitched; the room was so small there wasn't anywhere else to play. I'm sure we caused many a finger to be stuck with the needle when we stood up and shook the quilt.

Mama started quilting at an early age. I have a postcard on which she wrote, when she was a teen, "I have quilted three quilts this winter." Off and on, as I grew up, she pieced tops, but it wasn't until she retired from her "town" job that quilting really became a passion of hers. She made one quilt after another, and soon began selling them. Some went to states far away. When her heart began giving her trouble, and the doctor told her not to do anything, she gave up quilting the tops; however, the morning after she passed away, we found a little basket of blocks she had been working on, at the end of the couch.

So, it's no wonder that I took up quilting. I don't claim to be a wonderful quilter; I see all my mistakes. I especially enjoy making scrap and string quilts because of the great color variations. I make all sizes: bed quilts, baby quilts, and doll quilts.

The picture is my second attempt at making a doll quilt which I gave to my granddaughter, Lily. I will post about others in coming days.

Have a good day! Charlotte

Thanksgiving Prayer

2011-11-22T19:36:00.000-08:00

Oh, God, when I have food, help me to remember the hungry;
When I have work, help me to remember the jobless;
When I have a warm home, help me to remember the homeless;
When I am without pain, help me to remember those who suffer;
And remembering, help me to destroy my complacency and bestir my compassion.
Make me concerned enough to help, by word and deed, those who cry out
for what we take for granted.

Thanksgivings Past

2011-11-22T18:35:00.000-08:00

As Thanksgiving approaches, I always remember the way my family spent the day. I don't remember eating turkey, probably until I was in junior high school, and that would have been at school. And I don't remember ever having beef of any kind except an occasional hamburger at town, until Mama took a job in town in the early 50s, but we did have pork. The day of butchering was usually on Thanksgiving. This is a story of the day the hog was butchered; if you're squeamish, don't read.

...As Thanksgiving Day approached, Wanda was glad to have a few days off from school. One night at supper she said, "We had turkey and dressing for dinner today. Boy it was good!"

"What's a turkey taste like?" asked Charlotte. "A turkey tastes sorta like a big 'ol baked hen. You probably wouldn't eat it though; you won't eat anything," said Wanda. Charlotte was tired of the plain meals they had to have now. All the fryers had been used; there had been very little fresh meat to eat with the vegetables since then. Now and then Daddy brought home a squirrel for Mama to fry, but there wasn't much of it and sometimes it was tough to chew. "If the weather stays this cold, we'll kill hogs on Thanksgiving Day," said Daddy.

On Thanksgiving morning everything was white with frost, the skies were clear, so Daddy got ready to butcher the hog. He built a fire under the big iron wash pots and the water in them soon began to boil. Uncle Dewey came to help kill the hog and hang it; they filled buckets with the boiling water and poured it over the hog, then took their sharp butcher knives and scrapped the hair off the hog, and dressed the meat into various cuts: shoulders, bacon slabs, tenderloin, backbone, and hams.

Mama and Aunt Leola rubbed the hams, one shoulder, and the bacon slabs with a mixture of salt and sugar. It would preserve the meat and help keep flies off if the weather turned warmer. Daddy took the pieces to the smokehouse and hung them from the rafters with strings of wire. The next day Mama would put the meat from the other shoulder through the meat grinder, add salt, pepper, and sage and shape it into sausage patties. Then she would fry them and can them in her pressure cooker. Now there would be meat to last until spring. The little scraps of fat would be cooked until they were crisp and the liquid (lard) was poured off to be used in cooking.

Charlotte felt content tonight; the lamp flickered and cast familiar shadows on the walls. She and Wanda brought their flannel gowns to the heater to warm them, then dashed into the cold north room and snuggled down into the feather bed. Mama pulled the blanket and quilts up over them, kissed them both and said, "Sweet dreams, girls."

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving Day! Charlotte

As a child, I was very finicky about what I ate and I remain the type who eats to live rather than living to eat. The meat from the backbone, boiled, was always my favorite; better than any turkey!

Little Things Stuffed Away

2011-11-21T07:09:00.000-08:00

Sometimes it's nice to find a box or jar, filled with little things I've stuffed away, and spill them out for a look. For instance, this jar held marbles from my childhood, jacks, a rolling pin from my girls' play set, a little top from an unknown source, and a sweet, tiny doll in a little metal bed.

This old canning jar was filled with antique sewing supplies: wooden spools still holding thread, several packages of needles, old buttons and thimbles, wooden cases filled with machine needles, small balls of crochet thread, and two, slighted rusty crochet hooks. Don't you wonder what was made with these items?

Do you stuff things away?

From a Basket of Strings

2011-11-17T15:05:00.000-08:00

Another little doll quilt, made from strings thrown into a basket, set off by red strips and an antique button in the middle.

Tumbling Blocks

2011-11-15T18:29:00.000-08:00

Dixie, from MAIDA Today, invited us to enter a doll quilt we had made, to share with readers. This is my entry, Tumbling Blocks; hand pieced blocks, appliqued onto the background, and hand quilted. It measures 17" x 20", a good size to cover a doll.

I'm showing this one just for you: Scrappy Spools, hand pieced and hand quilted.

I like to make my doll quilts by traditional patterns if possible; patterns that one might find on a big bed.

Enjoy, Charlotte

Porch Prayer

2011-11-11T10:34:00.000-08:00

This was sent to me in an email and thought it worth sharing:

There was a little old lady, who every morning stepped onto her front
porch, raised her arms to the sky, and shouted: 'PRAISE THE LORD!'
One day an atheist moved into the house next door. He became irritated at the little
old lady. Every morning he'd step onto his front porch after her and yell: 'THERE IS NO LORD!'
Time passed with the two of them carrying on this way every day .
One morning, in the middle of winter, the little old lady stepped onto
her front porch and shouted: 'PRAISE THE LORD! Please Lord, I have no
food and I am starving, provide for me, oh Lord!
The next morning she stepped out onto her porch and there were
two huge bags of groceries sitting there.
'PRAISE THE LORD!' she cried out. 'HE HAS PROVIDED GROCERIES FOR ME!'
The atheist neighbor jumped out of the hedges and shouted:
'THERE IS NO LORD; I BOUGHT THOSE GROCERIES!!'
The little old lady threw her arms into the air and shouted:
'PRAISE THE LORD!
HE HAS PROVIDED ME WITH GROCERIES AND MADE THE DEVIL PAY FOR
THEM!'

Shall We Call It "Charlotte's Web"?

2011-11-10T15:44:00.000-08:00

This is my next quilting project, a string spider web, now known as Charlotte's web. The top has been pieced for a long time and since I'm trying to get caught up on works in progress I thought it would be a good thing to work on this winter. I'm in no hurry to get it done; will just take it as it comes. However, the chickens will go out next week, and most growers are being out longer now, so I may get a lot done (if my shoulders can hold out for the few days left working in the chickens; after all, the shoulders are on an old woman and the work is beginning to drag me down somewhat, as bad as I hate to admit it).

Getting a quilt top in the frames is no quick fix; I've worked on the lining all afternoon and hope tonight I can finish putting the batting and the top onto the frames. The batting is cotton; I'm sure I haven't used cotton batting in at least 49 years when I made quilts for my first little baby girl. It feels like a soft warm blanket, so with the top and lining it should be a nice quilt.

There is still a certain doll that needs to be finished and dressed too; she just keeps getting pushed aside. Remember the one with the black eyes?

Charlotte

What Is It?

2011-11-08T17:32:00.000-08:00

Do any of you blogging friends know what this little glass object is called? At first I thought it was made to hold a pincushion because I had seen something similar in a quilting magazine, and it was obviously made to hold something. Could it be a salt cellar? The salt cellars I viewed online were a lot larger than this. It looks like something that came in Quacker Oatmeal as a premium. Or, is it just an ordinary "what-not'?

This was the view from our back porch this morning. Around noon it started to rain; we got three inches by the time it was over. That's the most we had had since the end of May. Now the pond is finally full. The tree colors must be at their peak.

Sunday

2011-11-06T13:43:00.000-08:00

We attend church in a small assembly; twenty faithful people most Sundays. Sometimes it's a struggle for me to go, to be among people. We're always greeted at the door with multiple handshakes. The services are simple; no need for a Power Point screen to be lowered in front of us with the notes and words of hymns, really no need for hymnals, for in my case, the words of these songs have been written in my heart a long, long time.

Amazing grace - how sweet the sound - ...

Rock of ages, cleft for me. Let me hide myself in Thee ...

Wonderful story of love: tell it to me again ...

Sing the wondrous love of Jesus, sing His mercy and His grace ...

The words slip from my tongue in praise; they come natural and I feel the presence of God in them.

Blessings, Charlotte

What-Nots

2011-11-04T12:58:00.000-07:00

Are you old enough to know about what-nots? That's what we used to call little ceramic or glass figures (aka dust collectors). You may recall your grandmother having a collection of these little objects sitting on a table or shelf, or maybe on a corner rack such as this:

This one is filled with my collection of little what-not piggies.

I just happened to think of the word "what-nots" this morning and wondered if anyone uses it anymore. Do you have what-nots and if so, how do you display them?

Charlotte

To Market, To Market

2011-11-03T12:18:00.001-07:00

The truck rolled onto the farm this morning before daylight to pick up our calves to take to market.

We took out a few replacement heifers and left these to sell. Clouds began rolling in before we finished sorting and feeding them, and rain fell during the night. There's always a sense of pride in sending off good calves, but a little sadness too. Mead, my bottle calf, got to stay here this time; before he goes I'll have a talk with him about greener pastures, but leave out the part about the future. sniff, sniff, Charlotte

The Hunt

2011-11-01T16:15:00.000-07:00

It was beginning to seem more like winter every day. The white oak had lost most of its leaves and on some mornings the chickens' watering pans were covered with a thin layer of ice. Old Pudge, the hunting dog, lay curled up in a ball next to the back door, out of the wind. The air had the smell of wood smoke coming from the pot-bellied heating stove.

Daddy started hunting at night now. He took down the carbide lamp, cleaned it, and filled it halfway with small gray carbide pellets. When he added water, the pellets sizzled inside the lamp, forming a gas that ignited when he put a match to it. He clipped the lamp to his cap and it gave enough light for him to see how to get through the woods.

Pudge wagged his tail and barked, excited to be going on a chase. He was a fine dog; Daddy had been offered $100 for him, but good coon dogs were hard to find. A good dog meant there would be more hides to sell; 35 cents for opossum hides, and skunk hides brought $1.00 each. Raccoons were the animals Daddy liked best to hunt because their hides brought $2.00 to $3.00 each.

Uncle Dewey came after dark with his hounds and the two men left, the dogs straining at their leashes, eager to be freed. At the foot of Turkey Mountain, Pudge picked up a coon's trail. He let out a shrill bark and Daddy turned him loose. The men walked carefully through the thick undergrowth of briers and vines. They heard the dogs in the distance. Daddy recognized Pudge's bark; he was treed!

When Daddy and Uncle Dewey reached the dogs, they were barking with every breath, at the base of a big sweet gum tree, and clawing, trying to get to the animal overhead. Daddy aimed the light from the carbide lamp up into the branches of the tree; the animal turned one eye to the light. "It's a coon alright! A coon will always turn one eye to the light! Get him Pudge!"

He raised the gun to his shoulder, took aim, and fired. The coon ran to the other side of the tree and jumped. He ran; the dogs gave chase again, hot on his trail! The coon took refuge under a rock ledge along the creek. "I believe we've lost this one; we might as well head on back home."

The next morning, Daddy skinned the two opossums he had killed the night before. He stretched the hides over boards and hung them on the wall of the smokehouse to dry. Two hides meant only seventy-five cents, but the excitement of the hunt had been worth much more.

Daddy and the hunting dogs

Thank you for the comments you have made about my stories. Some have suggested that I put them in a book. Well, actually, they are from a book I wrote for my grandchildren, titled, "In the Shade of the White Oak". I wanted the kids to know what life was like for us in the 40s and early 50s, the first ten years of my life. Right now they aren't too interested in the stories; older people, who remember these things, have seemed to enjoy it though. Other parts from the book may be found under the label "family". Charlotte

Preparing for Winter -- 2

2011-10-28T11:34:00.000-07:00

There was frost the next morning and the acrid smell of frozen grass filled the air. Smoke from the stovepipe curled only a little before being carried away to the holler by the strong north wind. By mid-morning the sun began warming things and Mama said, "Let's stomp peas today, Charlotte!" She took her feed sack full of dry peas out into the yard. Charlotte jumped onto the burlap bag. "This is one thing you can jump on to your heart's content," said Mama. "Pretend you're jumping on the bed!" She jumped and jumped. Mama turned the sack and they both stomped, and the dry pods broke into pieces, releasing the peas. Charlotte giggled and fell off. Mama set the sack upright and untied the end.
She picked up the sack and held the opened end high above her empty dishpan. The dry peas fell into the pan and the wind blew the broken pieces of hulls away. Then she poured the peas from the dishpan into an empty bucket. Zing! Zing, zing! The peas sounded like hailstones on a tin roof as they hit the metal bucket. She poured them back and forth, and each time bits of hulls and trash blew out until the peas were clean.

Now Mama took the clean peas to the kitchen. She filled a jar with some of them and added a few moth balls. "These peas are to plant next year," she said, "and the mothballs will keep weevils out of them." She poured boiling water over the rest of the peas and let them sit for a few minutes. "I scalded these peas to kill any weevils that might be in them now; they' re the ones I'll cook this winter. The seed peas can't be scalded because the hot water would kill the little plant that is waiting inside the pea," explained Mama. She spread the scalded peas out on a clean cloth and let them dry in the sun and wind for a few days before storing them away for winter meals.

Charlotte

Preparing for Winter

2011-10-27T08:28:00.000-07:00

The fall weather was dry. Dust rose behind cars and hung in the stillness. In the evenings it settled in the valleys and looked like fog. The leaves were changing colors, but they had a burnt-like crispness to them; their edges curled. The flowering weeds wilted in the warmth of the afternoon sun, and grass seeds were maturing quickly. At night the temperatures dropped, so Daddy put up the wood heater.

"There'll be a killing frost soon," he said, so Mama set about to gather in what was left in the garden: a few peas, turnip greens, and green tomatoes.

Honk! Honk! Honk! The sounds came from overhead. "Look, Mama! A black flying line!" said Charlotte and Mama explained to her, "Those are geese, flying south. They know cold air is coming. They're going where the weather is warmer."

Charlotte shaded her eyes from the sun and watched the geese flying in a v-shape; now and then a few birds strayed from the others and flew alone, but they always returned. By noon the sun had warmed the air enough that Charlotte wondered if they might turn back...

Orange and Green

2011-10-26T11:10:00.000-07:00

Two lovely fall colors, orange and green; a little mixture of what's left of warm weather and the coming of cold weather. Today I'm freezing turnip greens for the winter meals; picking, washing, cutting them up and cooking,

what started out as a big bowl full, and hoping for at least two boxes to put into the freezer.

And the old maple tree throws in her version of green and orange once again. Pictures don't capture the true beauty.

In between other chores, I work on my own version of orange and green, finishing the edges of the "white ribbon quilt".

Charlotte

Monday Morning Walk

2011-10-24T14:47:00.000-07:00

Fog was so thick this morning I could barely see the neighbors dwelling place. When I took my morning walk I could almost feel the droplets on my face and all through the woods, these little tents were sparkling with the moisture. Tent spiders, I think they're called,

nestled among the twigs and dry leaves, or attached to grass. I tried to entice one to come out by tickling the tent with a blade of grass.

That was the pleasant thing I saw this morning; these things were not so pleasing:

the armadillo made its rounds again last night digging deeper and deeper and throwing more and more dirt out. I'm going to haul some dirt and fill up the holes, then put a layer of chicken wire over it, in hopes he won't dig there again. Now he'll probably start over under something else. We had one inch of rain Saturday night, making the ground nice and soft, so he took advantage of the situation.

Do you have this problem with animals? How do you deal with it? I'd like to know.
Charlotte

After posting this, I did some research on the spider. I think these are called grass spiders rather than tent spiders.

This One Surprised Me !!

2011-10-22T14:05:00.000-07:00

This little quilt surprised me; when it was just a top it didn't impress me much, but the more I quilted on it, the more I grew to like it. It seems to be just what a quilt represents to me: a pieced block, quilted by the piece, set together with strips, pretty enough for a bed, or sturdy enough to be played on. And I didn't feel pressured to make every stitch the same length or every seam a perfect quarter inch; I just enjoyed it.

The backing came from my stash; I've always liked the print but had never found a use for it until I saw how well it matched the red border. The binding, from the same print, and which always is just like "the frosting on the cake" hugs it all together.

So, that's another WIP out of the cupboard; on to another!

Enjoy, Charlotte

What I Learned From Watching

2011-10-20T15:06:00.000-07:00

Have you ever hit your thumb with a hammer, or stubbed your toe, and a few choice words slip unbridled from your tongue, in front of a child? Then, unexpectedly, the child uses those same words while playing. My mother-in-law used to say, "Little pitchers have big ears." It's so easy for us to pass on things to little ones because they are watching us and learning from us.

Daddy smoked most of the first ten years of my life, and although I didn't grow up to be a smoker, I probably could have, for I like the smell of tobacco. I don't ever remember Daddy smoking bought cigarettes; most men we knew "rolled" their own. And that is what I learned from watching; I think today, if I had the materials for a cigarette, I could roll one.

Men wore bib overalls, Big Smith being the favorite brand, and inside the bib pockets they carried either a little cloth sack of tobacco or a tin of tobacco, matches, and a packet of thin, tissue papers.

To roll the cigarette, he would take out one tissue and cradle it between his left thumb and the next two fingers. If the tobacco was in a little cloth bag, he would take it from the bib, catch a corner of the top of the bag in his teeth, open the bag and carefully pour out the right amount of tobacco into the tissue, catch the drawstring of the bag with his teeth, pull it shut, then put the bag back into the pocket. Then he carefully rolled the tissue around the tobacco, licked the tissue to seal it, put the cigarette into his mouth, and lit it with a match. (Of course, filling the tissue from a tin would have been much easier.) Now if he happened to be with a friend who had no tobacco, but wanted to smoke, the friend might say, "Can I bum a cigarette?"

Daddy has told us several times how he stopped smoking: "I had the flu; one morning I rolled my cigarette and sat down by the heater. When I put the cigarette in my mouth, it didn't taste good, so I threw it in the heater, and never smoked again!"

Hopefully we can be good examples to those little ones who learn from us.

Smiles, Charlotte

The New Coat

2011-10-18T09:30:00.001-07:00

Oh it's so cool this morning! A cold front went through last night, dropping four tenths of an inch of rain over us; we seem to be in a weather sandwich where not much meat was put inside, meaning the heaviest rain always borders us on the north and south and we get the sprinkling in between. But -- we'll take every drop that falls and be thankful for it.

The cooler air makes us need our jackets whenever we go out to do the chores and it also brings to my memory the new coat Mama made for me when I was six years old. It went something like this:

If you have read my posts for a while, you are familiar with our Aunt Rhody, and how she gave us many of the things we had as payment for work Daddy did for her. Now and then she would send a bag of dresses she no longer wanted and Mama would use them to make things for herself or us girls. One such bag contained a coat, and although it would have fit Mama, she knew I needed a coat so she decided to cut it up and make one for me. I'm not sure of its color, but that doesn't matter; what was important to the coat was the black fur collar.

Since the coat was wool, it couldn't be washed, so Mama carefully ripped out the seams and pressed the pieces flat. The backside of the fabric was clean and bright so she used it for the front sides when she cut out the parts for the coat. Each day, after school, the coat was a little closer to being finished and the winds were also a little colder; I needed the coat.

Finally, Mama had the new blue coat all sewed together; she held it up for me to see. It was pretty, except--there around the neck was that black fur collar! Well, I just wouldn't wear it! Why had Mama put that ugly thing on my new coat! And I told Mama I wouldn't wear it; she said, "That makes the coat pretty and it will be so warm up against your face and neck!" Wanda took advantage of the situation and suggested maybe the fur came from a skunk and then I threw the coat across the bed and onto the floor.

The next morning I needed more than just a sweater so Mama made me put on the coat before leaving to catch the bus. As soon as I got out the door I pulled it off and left it lying on the front porch. Mama had been watching from the window; I struggled as she put the coat back on me and jerked it off, dropping it on the ground. Patiently Mama picked up the coat again and put it on me. All the way to the bus stop we battered back and forth with the coat, and when Mama picked up a little switch, I kept the coat on; once inside the bus, I held my book satchel tightly against my chest, hoping it would hide the black fur, and when my chin touched it, I was sure I could smell skunk.

At school, I hurried to the cloak room and hung the coat up before anyone had a chance to see it, but at recess the teacher made me put it on, and so I was forced to wear it and now everyone could see the ugly black fur. My best friend liked the coat and when I told her I didn't like it, she asked if she could wear it. Then other girls wanted to touch the fur and wondered from what kind of animal it came; maybe a bear or a black panther, or a rabbit? I was surprised and slowly touched the fur; it was soft and warm and Mama had brushed it until it shined.

Mama was surprised to see me wearing the coat that afternoon; she didn't ask any questions or mention the trouble we had that morning. "Mama, the girls at school thought my coat was so pretty and they all wished their coats had fur collars too," I said, "and it sure is warm around my neck! I like the coat now!"

Stay warm, Charlotte

This One's Finished!

2011-10-13T19:00:00.000-07:00

Do you remember the quilt top with the embroidered primitive nursery rhymes? It's finished!! I quilted the patchwork blocks by the piece,

and quilted circles in the embroidered blocks. The backing fabric is the same design as the sashing strips, but in yellow. Even though it's set together with blue, the patchwork blocks make the quilt look soft and sweet enough for a baby girl. I like it!

Charlotte

It Doesn't Always Pay to Reach for Greener Grass

2011-10-12T10:22:00.000-07:00

We awoke this morning to lightning, thunder, and the wonderful sound of rain! So I wasn't in a hurry to go to the chicken houses and proceeded with the housework. I looked out the window, as is my custom, and saw this "fence", such as it is, lying on the ground. For months (more like years now) I've wanted this make-shift fence to be taken down and a permanent one put up. Anyway, all these panels were down, except the orange one. It was being held up at the far end by one of the heifers.

I hurried to the chicken houses to get Popa, (no time to take pictures of this part) and when we got closer we could see that her head was stuck inside the bottom "leg" of the panel. It's easier to get into trouble than out; she had been reaching for greener grass.

Popa chained the panel to the truck, and in the midst of close lightning and rain, he finally managed to cut the leg off with a reciprocating saw. Very dangerous work: a terrified heifer and standing on wet groud in a lightning storm! There's always something interesting to do on a farm! I wonder, do you think she learned it doesn't always pay to reach for greener grass?

Charlotte

Being a Little Too Neighborly

2011-10-10T09:13:00.000-07:00

We have seven deer who have taken our farm as their home. We see them in the late afternoon grazing in the pasture, and at night resting, not far from the house. There are three does and four little ones that come into the yard, scouring the ground for acorns or nibbling on my flowers. We like to watch them, and in turn, they watch us, with their heads held high and tail flags waving.

But last night they became a little too neighborly, eating off all the new growth my rose bush had put out after the hot, dry summer. You can see by looking at this picture, made in the spring, why it really didn't make me too happy; will the bush recover and have blooms next spring? I sure hope so!

I wonder if the deer will be able to find enough food this winter; the fruit on this persimmon tree might be an indication of what will be available to them. The persimmons are the smallest I ever remember seeing, just about the size of a big marble. I suppose the drought caused this.

So, if the rose bush puts out new leaves before frost, I must try to protect it somehow from our four-footed neighbors.

Charlotte

An Early Halloween Tale

2011-10-06T18:50:00.000-07:00

I know it is still several days until Halloween, but I'll get an early start with my own spooky tale:

When I take my walks I stay on the farm; our road is graveled, a little isolated in spots with thickets where one could be picked up by strangers, and so I play it safe. I walk over to the south forty, past three barns where Popa keeps his tractors and equipment since we don't put hay in them anymore.

On one particular day, as I approached the first barn, I heard what I thought was someone talking and wondered if someone had come to look over a piece of equipment Popa was going to trade off. But I hadn't seen anyone drive past the house. Then I heard music coming from inside the barn.

Oh, Popa must have forgotten to turn off the key and the radio is playing; I really should turn it off or the battery will run down. Instead of taking the time to unfasten the chain on the gate I will just climb over.

When I lifted my leg over the top of the gate, the music stopped at once! Fear swept over me, for you see, this was only a few days after Katrina had struck New Orleans and we had heard that perhaps prisoners had escaped. Besides the two tractors inside the barn, there was an old truck; maybe someone was using the barn to live in.

No, surely not and if it was just a key I needed to turn it off, so I went on into the barn. The new tractor didn't have a key in it and the older tractor had a key but it was turned off. Now I began to feel like someone was watching me, so I climbed back over the gate and quickly walked back to the house, turning now and then to see if anyone was following me. I locked the doors and waited for Popa to come home.

Of course he was afraid too, and when his brother came, they got the shot gun and drove over to the barn to investigate. They found nothing, not even so much as a footprint. The person must have left.

The mystery continued to puzzle us, until a few weeks later. One morning when I went outside, I heard music. This time the new tractor was parked in front of the shed behind the house and the music was coming from it. The key was off; why was the radio playing? And many other times afterwards, when I was feeding the cats in the shed, the radio would just start playing as if my movements triggered it. Popa finally decided the radio must have an alarm set to go off. But whatever, it gave me shivers just to think about the first time it happened.

Boo! ! ! Charlotte

Climbing the Hill

2011-10-04T16:43:00.001-07:00

Do you see the hill in the center of the picture? It is on the east side of our community and is called Tator Hill by people who have lived here all their lives. It can be a spectacular sight whenever the sun is in a position to rise directly over the top.

A few years ago Popa took our older grandson to climb Tator Hill. I packed a sandwich for them and off they went for a climb that must have been like climbing Mt. Everest for the boy. They chose the side that was less steep, but they still had to sit and rest now and then. I asked Popa what it was like on the very top; he told me there were some rocks but also some flat places.

Memories were made that day, climbing the hill.

Charlotte

Hay Season Is Finished -- Maybe?

2011-10-02T18:51:00.000-07:00

Shadows stretched long by the time I left the hay field Saturday afternoon. There weren't many bales this time, but many trips around and around the field anyway. This mountain rises on the far side of the creek that borders this field, and many pretty wildflowers grow along its edge.

I have no idea what this plant is; it has little hanging seeds (?) that make it look like a grass, but the leaves look like a weed. I think I'll pick some for a dried arrangement.

Butterflies really like this bright yellow-flowered weed. In a way it resembles a cone flower.

I think this is a tiny-flowering aster.

This delicate little purple flower is an ageratum.

Several deer were beginning to come out to graze when I left the field. It was the first day of bow hunting season; watch out little deer!

Now, if Popa doesn't find another little spot to cut, and when we get this hay hauled home, I'm ready to start quilting more.

Charlotte

I think many of you misunderstood about the comments made concerning pictures of cats. The comment wasn't made to me, but rather it was sent to the blog site that had the post about ways to improve a blog. The comment made me laugh because we do see a lot of cat pictures; however, I like seeing these pictures, especially since my cat was killed and I don't have one I can bring inside anymore. But, thanks anyway for all your kind thoughts for me.

A Blog No-No?

2011-09-28T10:16:00.000-07:00

A couple of days ago I was reading about ways to improve a blog, and the comments left for the post. One person suggested not posting anymore pictures of cats! Now can you imagine that? We love our cats! So, maybe I'm committing a blog no-no, but these are Callie and her adolescent children, otherwise known as my barn kitties. They take after their mother; no picking them up, but I can rub their backs while they are eating. The black and white is my favorite.

So, if you don't like cats, I'm sorry; I won't do it often.

Charlotte

Peace

2011-09-27T15:07:00.000-07:00

I've come to think of myself as "the woman in the window"; several times during the day I will go to the window and look outside. I love the rays of the early morning sun as they filter through the trees and glisten on the dewdrops. I watch the crows and the gray squirrel searching for fallen pecans. I look over the flower beds, reviving from the hot, dry summer, and think ahead to next spring and the possibilities.

I think my window watching started whenever my husband was in graduate school, and I was at home with no adult conversation during the daytime, just the sound of three little girls playing. A lot of afternoons I stood at the picture window waiting for factory workers to pass the house on their way home from work. I was lonely. I still spend a lot of time alone; that's what fear of leaving home does to one. There are some weeks when I don't hear another woman's voice from one Sunday to the next. So you, my blogging friends, are important to me.

I find peace here on the farm, and a closeness to God through his wonderful creations.

Farm Babies

2011-09-26T12:09:00.000-07:00

I've been out of touch for the last couple of days, helping get ready for another flock of chickens. We were out almost three weeks this time but Popa worked most of those days, putting in more fans, caulking and foaming cracks, and installing a new entry door. So today was the big day, getting up at 5:30 to do the finishing chore of draining water lines. Before the sun came up we were unloading the babies.

For the first day they stick close to the feed pans where the heat radiates down the most and by the second day they begin spreading out into the middle of the houses.

It's really amazing how quickly they find the water.

And this is another farm baby, the first of the fall calves.

I have other farm babies, kittens; however, Callie moved them again so no pictures of them.

Farm life has a lot of hard work, but it has its rewards too.

Charlotte

Fabric Stash

2011-09-23T10:24:00.000-07:00

Garden of Daisies has asked quilters to show their fabric stash; do we dare open our creating space for the world to view? Why not?

This is where I piece quilts and my quilting frame sits behind the chair. My husband built the cabinet for me from oak wood, harvested from our farm.

This side holds mostly older fabrics; notice the boxes covered with wallpaper? These were made by my mother-in-law, and very pretty to keep fabric in.

The right side of the cabinet with two boxes of plaid pieces, a box of neutrals, containers of thread, bias tape, and elastic, and a box of smaller pieces of various colors. The basket is holding a WIP, scrappy pineapple, and a few pieces for backings.

These containers, in the lower section of the cabinet, hold fat quarters and 1/2 yard pieces. The baskets catch scraps for string tops.

The papered boxes are filled with some new pieces, bought for aprons and backings for baby quilts, and older fabrics for doll clothes. The rolling container holds some new pieces, selvages, and more WIPs (???) and the basket is filled with solid pieces. It stays inside the closet (off limits to viewers ;).
One drawer with more things started (???) and a container filled with mostly green fabrics.

Wow!! do I have that much? Then why is it, when I start a new top, I need something?

Garden of Daisies is a lovely place to visit; she has a variety of interesting subjects. Why not give her a visit at www.patchofzinnias.blogspot.com .

Now, I need to get busy! Charlotte

Snatching Up an Easy Meal

2011-09-22T12:48:00.000-07:00

Do you see the white thing behind our bull? That is a bird called a cattle egret, an opportunistic feeder, who follows large animals or machines to catch insects they stir up. They feed on grasshoppers, crickets (way to go!) spiders, flies, frogs (oh no!) and moths. Usually they forage in flocks,
as you can see in this picture, taken early one morning after a good rain (yes, we got a good rain!). I watched as they followed the heifers, snatching up an easy meal every few steps.

I remember having a flock follow me on the tractor one year while I was raking hay; a splendid opportunity for a big meal! However, if I were a heifer, I think having a bird in my face would be annoying.

Do you have cattle egrets in your area?

Charlotte

I apologize for my pictures; hopefully you can see the egrets :)

Bibs for Baby

2011-09-20T12:43:00.000-07:00

If you enjoy doing cross stitch work, but don't want to commit to a big project, a bib for a baby might be just what you're looking for. My bibs are made from a washcloth with the cross stitched panel attached at the bottom, and backed with a soft, absorbent cotton. Then I encase the entire bib in bias binding. This bib is to be tied; however, I prefer to fasten bibs with Velcro for ease in fastening around a squirming baby. Most layette patterns will have one for bibs, or you could trace around a purchased one to make your own pattern. These are two booklets I have; as you can see, there are lots of designs, simple ones and some more difficult. I haven't tried cross stitching in several years, but if my eyes are still "bright" I may just make one this winter.

Happy stitching, Charlotte

Colorful Caterpillar

2011-09-19T16:14:00.001-07:00

Every now and then when I'm giving a gift at a baby shower, I like to throw in a little handmade gift; plus, it gives me an excuse to make something. This colorful caterpillar made a sweet, easy-to-make toy for a little one. I seem to remember the pattern came from a copy of the magazine, Country Woman, a few years ago. Since I don't know who submitted the pattern, I can't give credit where credit is due.

The sections are fastened together with Velcro and therefore allows the child to learn to take them apart and put them back together. Also, if you notice, one section's side matches another section's side; another game of learning to match colors.

Give him a sweet little face by embroider, applique, or paint,

and a cute print for his end, and you have a colorful caterpillar, all ready to crawl into fun.
Enjoy, Charlotte

AKA Spider Legs

2011-09-16T14:37:00.000-07:00

This flower is like the "lonely little petunia in an onion patch" since it's the only one of its kind to bloom in the flower bed this summer. It is a Cleome, aka spider legs around here. I've never had any luck with purchased seeds, but it self-seeds. I don't know how it got here; the others were grown in a different place last year. I'm hoping it self-pollinates because I'm going to save seeds; I don't want to lose this flower.

Thanks to everyone who grieved with me over my doll's black eyes. Mary, from over at Colony Mountain Stitcheries, who makes beautiful dolls, suggested that I put a few coats of Gesso over this face, sand it really good, and then repaint before throwing her out. So I've put two coats on and we'll see how it goes. Thanks, Mary.

Oh, by the way, it's trying to rain here today; now if it would only get serious about it! My little turnip green seeds are lying in the dust, just waiting.

Charlotte

OOPS!!!

2011-09-15T11:44:00.000-07:00

Oh my!! What's the story behind those black eyes? Did she run into a door facing, or were her tears so many that they made her eye makeup run? Ahhh- it was my fault! You see, it's this way: before I painted her face, I drew the features with a blue, washable pen, you know, something for me to go by since painting is not my best talent. Then this morning when I got ready to spray sealer over the painted areas, I didn't see any of the blue markings, so I assumed they were gone. WRONG! The sealer wet the blue, making it run, and in so doing it seeped into the filler and onto her face.

Now this doll was going to be a gift for my aunt who will be 88 years old next Wednesday; she had asked for one of my dolls. No way will I let this pitiful little thing go to the retirement center! So, since her arms haven't been attached yet, and her legs can be removed easily, and she hasn't been declared "alive" yet, I'll make a new body and head and see if I can do better. Boy I sure hope so; this is depressing!

Smiles, Charlotte

Keeping A Scrapbook

2011-09-13T20:10:00.001-07:00

Do you do scrap booking? I think Mama did scrap booking before scrap booking was cool. My life wasn't chronicled on pretty pages of nice books or CDs, but rather in a plain paper book which has become worn and tattered over the years. Neither were there photos of birthday parties or vacation trips, but rather

Mama kept things I had made in school, learning to write my long name and colors,

the perfect attendance and honor roll certificates I received the first four years,

and art work I had made.

By the time I graduated from elementary school, there were newspaper clippings I wanted to save and the program for our closing day ceremonies.

Of course high school graduation was something to be remembered.

I carried scrap booking on past high school and saved clippings of the marriages of friends.

Maybe not all mothers have time now to sort through their children's schoolwork to save parts of them, and maybe not all children want their things saved; however, I'm very glad to have my old scrapbook to look through now and then.

Smiles, Charlotte

It's Four O'Clock Somewhere ---

2011-09-12T16:09:00.000-07:00

Isn't it amazing that these flowers know how to tell time? Every day, when the sun begins getting lower in the west, they open up into their beauty and stay, hidden in the dark, until the sun hits them the next morning.

And they come in different colors, all blended into one mass of flower glory. These help hide us from the neighbors and also hide the compost container. Humming birds and humming bird moths love their sweet nectar. It's one flower I've been able to have during the drought.

Charlotte

Take Time to Be Holy

2011-09-09T12:26:00.000-07:00

In these times of fast-paced living, running here and there, pressured to live up to the expectations of those around us, I've always found comfort in the words of the song, "Take Time to Be Holy", and if I had only one chance left to advise my children and grandchildren, these would be my words:

Take time to be holy, speak oft with thy Lord. Abide in Him always, and feed on His word. Make friends of God's children, help those who are weak; forgetting in nothing, His blessing to seek.

Take time to be holy, the world rushes on; spend much time in secret, with Jesus alone. By looking to Jesus, like Him thou shalt be. Thy friends, in thy conduct, His likeness shall see.

Take time to be holy; let Him be your guide, and run not before Him, whatever betide. In joy or in sorrow, still follow thy Lord. And looking to Jesus, still trust in His word.

Take time to be holy; be calm in thy soul. Each thought and each motive, beneath His control; thus led by His Spirit, to fountains of love, thou soon shall be fitted for service above.

Blessings, Charlotte

To Clarify Some Things

2011-09-08T09:47:00.000-07:00

(This picture is not recent, but rather in the spring a couple of years ago)

I'm feeling a little like the first-grader, Charlotte; I need to clarify some things. In the post, Cherry Candy, the parts about the candy, money, and lie were all true; however, to be honest, I don't remember what Mama's reaction to it was. But I do feel she was understanding, for Mama was a very patient person and tried to be conflict-free. She was the only person I remember ever spanking me, and believe you me, I needed it; just ask Wanda. I was a timid child (Daddy told me a few years ago I was born timid) and all Daddy had to do was look at me sternly and I backed away like a frightened mouse. So, I'll feel better now, hoping you understand about writing; some things have to be embellished somewhat, without meaning for them to be a lie.

Now, on a more positive note, I wanted to direct you to http://www.wandastricklinrobertson.blogspot.com/ for her post for today; some very important things to think about here. Although I'm not obese, the prayer, asking God to melt pounds off a body, reminded me of myself. On days when Popa is not here to eat lunch with me, I scour the refrigerator for whatever I can find to keep from cooking for one. Then, after thanking God for my food and asking that it give me strength to do my work, etc., I chow down on whatever I've found, along with chips and Coca Cola, finished off with miniature Hersheys or ice cream. Where's my willpower??

Smiles, Charlotte

Cherry Candy

2011-09-06T15:58:00.001-07:00

This story is one of the saddest things I remember from my childhood and it's still difficult for me to think about. I don't remember ever going hungry, or being without clothing, and we had shelter from the elements; however, Daddy, somehow, had made us believe we had no money to spend on frivolous things. Keep this in mind as you read ...

Each Monday morning Mama tied 75 cents in the corner of a handkerchief for me to pay for my lunches. Today she had put in 80 cents because she didn't have the correct change, and Miss Ruth had given a nickel back to me and I tied it in the handkerchief. During the noon recess the sixth grade class sold candy; I never asked for money to buy candy, but on this day I remembered the nickel when it came time for my class to buy candy. Mama hadn't told me not to spend it; surely it would be all right if I bought some candy, so this time I went with the other children to buy something.

There were many kinds of candy and I wanted something that would last a long time, so I finally chose a roll of Lifesavers. I untied the handkerchief, took out the nickel, and paid for the candy, then went back to the classroom and unrolled the end of the wrapper. I took out the first of the drops and put it into my mouth. Oh, the wonderful, cherry-flavored goodness of that candy! I closed my eyes and let the sweetness float on my tongue as the candy dissolved.

But before I could finish eating the Lifesaver, I began to think about the money. Mama hadn't told me I could spend it; maybe I had stolen the money from Mama! I had to get the money back somehow!

Quickly I swallowed what was left of the Lifesaver, carefully folded the end of the wrapper over the remaining candy and took it to Miss Ruth. I told her I had forgotten that I couldn't spend the nickel; could I give the candy back and get the money for it? I fumbled with the roll of candy and didn't look up at the teacher. She took the candy and asked if I opened it. I told her "No" but she could tell that the candy had been opened and that some of it was missing. "I can't return your money; go back to you seat and if you ever do something like this again, I will have to paddle you," she had said. And, she kept the candy.

What had been so wonderful and pleasing only a few minutes before was now sickening. I wished I could wash the taste of that terrible Lifesaver out of my mouth! When I got on the bus I was afraid Wanda would see my tongue, for I was sure it was still red and my breath must smell like cherries. I kept my face turned toward the window and wondered how I would explain to Mama about the money.

I knew it would be best to just tell Mama, so I began. "This morning you put too much money..I bought candy..I ate a piece of it..told Miss Ruth I didn't open it..and I started crying. Mama put her arms around me and said, "I'm sorry you told a lie; we've pinched pennies for so long that you thought you had done something wrong by spending the nickel. But don't ever lie; no amount of money is worth telling a lie."

(Sorry this was so long...To this day I find it very hard to spend money on myself)

Smiles, Charlotte

Making Something Useful

2011-09-05T16:27:00.000-07:00

If you quilt, what do you do with all those little scraps of batting that are left? Of course if the pieces are large enough they can be whipped together and used for the purpose intended. But I'm talking about strips about six to seven inches wide, and maybe the full length of the quilt. Since I have wood floors, I've found a very good use for them: dust bunny catchers!! Dust bunnies underneath the bed just jump on these scraps of batting and then you can simply toss the whole fuzzy mess into the trash. Of course I don't recommend going out and buying a package of batting to cut up into dust catchers, but if you have scraps, try it. Oh, they are also good for taking down cobwebs from around the ceiling; just be sure to do that first.

The Bar Exam Results

2011-09-02T18:23:00.000-07:00

Chickadee called this afternoon to let us know she passed the bar exams!! She was so very excited and so were we! It's been a lot of hard work, and we're really proud of her for sticking with it.

Way to go, Chickadee!!!

If you don't know the rest of the story it can be found on this post: May 21, 2011, We're So Proud of Her

I Promise ...

2011-08-31T15:14:00.000-07:00

not to make you look at this quilt again ! I know you must be tired of it; however, some had asked to see it when finished. So----

here it is, all quilted and bound,

with two little bears on the back, covering up those bothersome holes. No one will ever know, because, you won't tell, will you?

Smiles, Charlotte

Work In Progress ...

2011-08-30T16:19:00.000-07:00

This is my work in progress, a doll quilt top, designed by Amy (www.duringquiettime.blogspot.com) . She has an excellent tutorial for making this Scattered Dots quilt in her May 30, 2010 post. Mine is a little smaller than hers, made to fit my doll beds. Amy's work is so precise and neat; all points match, etc. She machine appliqued the dots on her quilt; I used the blanket stitch for mine since I don't do machine applique that well.

I'll probably put this back and quilt it later. I had a woman tell me one time, "I don't know why you make these doll quilts, no one wants them." But it didn't stop me; little girls like quilts for their dolls, and they make nice table toppers or wall hangings for big girls.

Wouldn't you like to try this for some little girl?

Smiles, Charlotte

Good News ---

2011-08-29T14:23:00.000-07:00

I just got word from the dermatologist: the spot on my nose was a basil cell carcinoma, skin cancer, but the good news is, she got it all and it's been treated, so as the nurse told me, "You don't have to worry about it anymore." Granted, I had done enough of that, especially after looking at pictures online of what was involved in doing a graft. Now believe me, I offered up thanks to the good Lord!! Now I need to buy a big, old woman style hat!! I might not be as lucky next time.

Thanks to all you good blogging friends who were concerned about this.

I'll go now and do more on my "work in progress"; maybe tomorrow I can show it.

Smiles, Charlotte

This was the quilt

2011-08-25T15:55:00.000-07:00

I had planned to take to the fair. I didn't have a fair schedule to know when entries were to be made, so I'll just put it back and wait for next year. The center blocks are hand pieced, then hand appliqued onto the white, and the flowers are also hand appliqued.

Charlotte

County Fair

2011-08-24T10:24:00.001-07:00

It's time for the county fair! School has started, and even though it's still hot, fall just seems to be close. I didn't enter anything this year, although I had a quilt ready to be judged. We've never gone to the fair too many times over the years; more so when the girls were in 4-H and entered the things they had made.

The following is an account of how a trip to the county fair could have been for me when I was a little girl; the wolf, the ride on the Ferris wheel and merry-go-round are based on actual facts.

Daddy said he would borrow Uncle Dewey's car the next day, and asked if we'd like to go to the fair. Of course we would! and Mama said we would look at the exhibits first then we could go to the carnival.

Wanda and Charlotte patiently followed Mama as she went inside to look at the quilts and dresses, the canned green beans, peaches, tomatoes and jellies. Ribbons of blue, red, and white had been placed on the entries. Then Daddy told Mama to bring the girls outside to see something. Charlotte saw an animal which looked like a big gray dog. It was curled up inside a cage and had a terrified look in its eyes. A man hit the cage with a stick and the animal snarled and snapped. It was timid and frightened; Daddy said it was a wild wolf. Charlotte felt sorry for him; he'd been caught and now people came and stared at him and poked him with sticks just to hear him snarl.

Wanda was ready to ride the Ferris wheel; Mama and Charlotte would ride with her. The big wheel turned slowly, and their seat began to rise off the ground. Charlotte gripped the bar in front of her as people below them grew smaller and smaller. Then they went over the top and back down. She felt better; now they could get off, but before she could stand up, they were going up again! She clung to the bar with white knuckles and sweaty palms, and grabbed Mama's arm. She closed her eyes, then realized the wheel wasn't turning anymore. Good! Now she could get off and she wasn't going to ride again! But when she opened her eyes, the ground wasn't under her feet. The Ferris wheel had stopped and they were sitting at the top of the world! She was frightened, and trapped, just like the wolf!

Wanda thought it was fun. "See those mountains? We live on the other side of them!"

Charlotte was thinking, how were they going to get down? What if they fell out of the seat? Oh how she wished she was back over those mountains at home! Wanda told her the wheel had stopped so other people could get on to ride. Then the wheel began to turn and their ride ended.

When Mama took her to the merry-go-round, she was still afraid, but Mama promised to stand beside her, and as the music played and the ponies swayed up and down, round and round, the fear left, and when Mama asked if she liked the ride, Charlotte said, "Yes! Can I do it again?" So Charlotte rode again -- and again; Mama finally had to make her get down because it was time to go home.

Blessings, Charlotte

Let's Pray She Got It ----

2011-08-23T15:08:00.000-07:00

Today I had a visit with my dermatologist. In January, I was given an "all clear" to go for one whole year without another check up, a great relief for me. Soon afterwards I noticed a little place on the side of my nose, and then, every time it was bumped it would bleed a little; I knew it was time to have it checked. As expected, it was skin cancer, so it had to be removed. Now we'll wait for the lab work to see if she got all of it. Let's pray she did, otherwise she said I would have to have more removed and then a graft. I always thought my nose was too large but I don't want it made smaller one snip at a time. :)

I try to wear sun screen lotion and a cap or hat whenever I'll be in the sun for any length of time. I don't know if the damage to my skin happened recently or in all the years I've worked outside on the farm. (A doctor told me one time I should have married a prince rather than a farmer) As girls, my sister and I hoed in the cane fields with our parents and when I married and we bought our farm, I worked in the hay fields for a time on an open tractor. Trying to get a tan as a teenager never worked for me; I just got sunburned and stayed fair, so I gave that up. On the other hand, maybe the sun isn't to blame; both my parents had skin problems so perhaps it was passed on to me.

I worry about people who purposely get tans in a tanning bed, or cook themselves in the sun without protection. Is is really worth the risk? After all, beauty is only skin deep.

Charlotte

My Callie

2011-08-22T15:49:00.000-07:00

Let me introduce you to my calico cat, Princess Calico. aka, Callie; aren't all calico cats called Callie at one time or another? She's very affectionate, as long as it's on her terms; she likes to be petted, but "don't pick me up!" Last spring she had five kittens; one solid black, one calico, one black and white tuxedo, and two gray and white tabbies (one tabby disappeared). She kept them hidden for a long time, but finally brought them to the barn. They expect food from me, and used to scatter like crazy when I went in with them, but they are beginning to be less afraid. Maybe being afraid will help them live longer. The cat-killing dog in our neighborhood was at the barn a couple of days ago, so I stay in constant fear they'll get caught.

There is a solid black male cat who stays at the barn with them. He doesn't have a tail. I think Callie's looking plump around the middle; could it be? I wonder what her adolescent children will think of new siblings!

Charlotte

This and That

2011-08-21T16:12:00.000-07:00

I love surprises! Especially when they come in the form of flowers, whose blooms have been hiding in the ground all summer. This year I kept their place mowed and I wasn't completely surprised because I saw their points sticking up through the ground. This is a pink flower; I believe they are the first of the surprise lilies to bloom. These bulbs were on the farm when we moved here forty three years ago.

Now as if the hot temperatures and dry weather weren't hard enough on the garden, this is what has happened to the tomato plants: grasshoppers!! Just stems -- even after we've had rain, and it's cooler, there's no way these plants can produce anything.

This picture was taken not long before sundown. See the moon? I used to not really understand the phases of the moon, or maybe I should say, I didn't care. Now I watch for the tiny sliver of the new moon in the west around sundown, the full moon, and the tiny sliver of the fourth quarter in the east right before sunrise. I've often wondered, on a prairie, with no trees or hills to block the view, can one see the moon on its last rising in the east, and then see its first setting in the west the next day? Do you know the answer?

Just curious, Charlotte

Ninety Five Horses

2011-08-19T11:20:00.000-07:00

You've heard the quote; "Build a better mouse trap, and the world will beat a path to your door", a phrase attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson. On a farm, the same holds true whenever a new piece of machinery shows up. For instance, this morning Popa's new tractor was delivered, and immediately there were men waiting to look at it, walk around it, run their hands across the shiney New Holland blue paint, feel the deep unused tread of its tires. Two sat inside the cab on cushioned seats, covered with plastic, and started the engine, listening to its power and feeling the cold air swirling from air conditioning vents. "Does the radio work? Let's run it through its shifting cycles, and what about those sparkling, dust-free windows?"

And then it's back outside to raise the hood and look at the engine; there's a ninety five horse power engine in there you know, with no dust or oil drips. Now to wrap my mind around what that really means, I see this: ninety five sleek, muscled work horses, harnessed to the hay cutting machine, come charging out of that hood whenever the engine starts, and around and around the field they go.

This evening, about sundown, I'll take my turn looking and touching, for I want to know if anything is different in the way to start or stop those ninety five horses.

Charlotte

A Summer Memory

2011-08-18T15:26:00.000-07:00

This afternoon, I read about how desperate people are in parts of Texas for water, even to the point of having bottled water trucked into towns. I knew from reading your blogs it was bad; and to think, how I complained!

I can remember a summer, when Daddy and Mama became worried about our drinking water. I was probably nine years old. There had been a few weeks of really hot, dry weather; the branches had almost dried up and Daddy was sure the water level in the well had dropped. The well was a dug well, only eight feet deep anyway, and was in the pasture next to the branch, so it must have had a lot of run-off water in it. So when men at the store began talking about cases of typhoid fever around the communities, and that it could be caught from drinking unclean water, he said, "I guess we ought to take typhoid shots."

The shots weren't something we looked forward to, but we all went to the health office on the second floor of the county court house. I had been there before to get my smallpox vaccination before starting to school, and I remembered the building: the smell of cigars and old, musty papers, big, wide marble steps up to the office, and the tall, red-haired woman, with buckteeth and crossed eyes behind glasses, who sat at her desk, ready to speedily type information onto our cards. She explained the shots to us: "The first time a person is vaccinated, we give a series of three shots, one each week. Then he gets a booster shot each year. They may make you have fever and your arm will be sore for a couple of days." Then we went into another room where the county health nurse was waiting, amid the jars of cotton balls and tongue depressors and the smell of medicine and rubbing alcohol, to jab that sharp, stinging needle into my arm.

The sore arms and fever, combined with the hot, sticky days, made us cross, and each trip to the health office a dread. Wanda and I went to the library each time to check out books, and in the afternoons, when the house with no electricity got too hot, and we had no aspirin to calm the fever and soreness, I took a pallet quilt out to a shade tree, and read the stories to take me away into some adventure where there was no pain.

Daddy, Mama, Charlotte, and Wanda

The Camera

2011-08-17T13:31:00.000-07:00

I wanted to go to town. I had been saving my money, a nickel from Grandpa at Christmas, and another one from a Sunday afternoon visit, and a dime from an uncle. With the twenty five cents I already had, this made forty five cents and now I could buy something at the Ben Franklin store. New store-bought paper dolls would be nice, but I had lots of dolls cut from catalogs. Jigsaw puzzles were better put together in the wintertime. My jacks weren't bent and the ball stilled bounced straight, so I didn't need those either. Wanda suggested that I get new barrettes for my hair, but since Mama had cut my hair short, I didn't need them.

I went around the ends of the shelves at the store, and there it was: a camera! It was perfect! When I asked Mama how much it cost, she said the tag had forty nine cents written on it; four more cents than I had, so Mama said she would pay the extra pennies and the sales tax for me, but did I understand that the camera wasn't real? I didn't care; it looked real, and what fun I could have with it, because whenever the button was pressed, a silly little face popped out! I wouldn't tell anyone it wasn't real, and when I "took" pictures it would be a surprise.

I took pictures of everyone I saw, and each time the ugly little face popped out on its spring and wobbled around in people's faces. After a while, Wanda got tired of it and asked Mama to make me put it away, saying she couldn't believe I used my money to buy the thing! Maybe it was foolish, but it was my camera, and it always went to the play house along with the dolls and dishes, and when school started, Mama let me take it to school where I had a whole new bunch of people who didn't know about the silly face.

And then one day, the spring that popped the little face out of the camera broke. It couldn't surprise anyone anymore, but it still looked like a real camera. So I took the ugly little face and the camera and put them inside my trunk in the smokehouse with the rest of my special things.

Do you have a special toy you remember?

Charlotte

Haste Makes Waste ??

2011-08-11T09:32:00.000-07:00

Stitching is coming along pretty fast on the string quilt; I think there are two full rows and one wonky house left to do. In my haste to put it up, this is what I missed:

I had forgotten to take the paper off the backs of two houses!! No big deal however; they were on the last portion of the quilt to be stitched, so I just took the pins out, folded the top back, lifted the papers off, and pinned it again. Whew!! at least they weren't on the first row! If you paper piece, have you ever forgotten to take off the paper? We've always heard, "Haste makes waste"; in this case, only a waste of a little time.

We continue to get rain showers, so far around 1 3/4 inches, with bad lightning and window-rattling thunder; the grass seems to be holding up their little blade cups to catch it all. The air is much cooler too, so now I must start my walks again! There seems to be a change in the season, but we could be fooled.

Charlotte

Happy Anniversary

2011-08-10T12:28:00.000-07:00

On this day, in 1952, my sister and her husband were married. It was a simple wedding ceremony, held after morning worship services in our little country church. And it seems I can remember the congregation singing, "When They Ring Those Golden Bells for You and Me." Afterward, we went home with friends and family invited to eat the noon meal with us. She was a month short of being eighteen and he was five years older; I was eleven.

Their meeting was not really by chance, since he was a brother to our cousin's husband, and at the time was in the Marines. He had worked for Daddy in the hay when he was a young boy, and later said he remembered seeing two little girls playing, but of course never dreamed he'd be marrying one of them. Their courtship had to be mostly through letters, which came often; and I wanted to know what was in them! What a pest I was to her, always sneaking around trying to find the letters! Now I didn't realize she was worried that he wouldn't be discharged from service, since the Korean War was getting into full swing, so when he did get a chance to come to the house to see her, there I was, nudging my way into their together time! For instance, in this picture, see how I've managed to get myself included in the photo? No one knew I was in the picture until it was developed!

At the time I was glad she was getting married; the bed would be mine -- all to myself! Now Mama wouldn't have to roll up a quilt and put it between us; someone, I'm not sure which of us, didn't want the other touching with her feet and legs (it was probably me!). In spite of all this nonsense, she still loves me and I love her too. So, here's wishing you the happiest of all times, big sister!

Charlotte

A LITTLE RAIN !!!!!

2011-08-09T09:25:00.000-07:00

Last night I heard it!! Loud thunder, fierce lightning, and then, raindrops falling on the rooftop!! "Oh thank you, Lord!" I uttered. It was only 1/2 inch, but the grass seems to have responded and already looks greener. At least I'm somewhat revived! and thank each of you who have pitied me after my complaints. :)

Now I have a flower question: in this picture, a few of my irises are in view. They look really tired, and as in most summers, their fronds turned brown on the tips. If I cut them back will they still bloom next spring or do they need the fronds to make food for their corms in order to bloom? How do you manage your irises each year after they have bloomed?

Charlotte

Feeling Defeated

2011-08-08T19:07:00.000-07:00

I took off a few days, hoping to have a new topic to write about other than heat and drought. It didn't work; I feel so defeated, crushed by this summer's history making temperatures, the sun's burn, the crackling grass. We watch the radar each day, watching for possible relief, and as the clouds approach our map circle, they divide, one to the north, east, or south, and other than a slight drop in numbers on the thermometer, we're left high and dry. Trees are putting up their defenses against the drought by ridding themselves of their greatest source of water loss, their leaves, and we hope they can retain enough moisture to save their roots.

This is our dogwood tree,

and leaves fell this afternoon, making it look and feel like fall.

We're feeding hay now; the grass in the pastures is brown and too short to be eaten by the cattle. These pictures were taken after sunset, when the cattle came out from the shade of the trees to eat. The blurred effect is from dust kicked up by the cattle.

The water in the ponds is very low, green and turning red around the edges. They really should have well water available to them, but the chickens drink from the wells -- what would we do if the wells went dry? As long as we can keep electricity and water for the cool cells, the chickens should be alright for a couple more weeks; at six weeks it will be more difficult to keep them cool.

I put the string quilt in the frames; a little joyful work to help take my mind off this summer. I'll try to not post about this anymore -- :)) My faith is still strong -- God loves us.

Charlotte

Same Song -- Second Verse

2011-08-02T16:19:00.001-07:00

For those of you who have been reading about the hot temperatures we're having, these posts are probably becoming like the words to an old song: "Same song, second verse; could get better, but it's gonna get worse!" So I might as well say it and get it over with -- 114* today!! And that's on the front porch, in the shade! When I rode in the Kubota to check the chickens, the air blowing on my face felt like I was in front of the wood burning furnace: parching hot

Around 5:00 p.m. we were on the fringes of a shower while the sun was shining. There's an old saying, "Rain while the sun is shining, and it'll rain this time tomorrow." We'll see -- hope.

Charlotte

A Little Humor for Current Situations

2011-08-01T15:47:00.000-07:00

Smiles, from my Frank & Ernest cartoon collection

Charlotte

Another Finish

2011-07-31T15:38:00.001-07:00

This is the second of the two quilt tops I finished last week. This one is larger and, with its darker colors, would make a good companion quilt for a toddler or preschool child while watching TV or enjoying his favorite book. The star points (hst's) were made from pieces leftover from a larger top and when I found a picture of this quilt online, I sized the blocks, then added the strips as shown to make a pattern like the original. So, here's another top, stacked, waiting for cooler weather.

Today wouldn't have been the day; it was 107* shortly after noon, then rain circled us (actually we only got enough to show tracks in the dust) and cooled the air, for which we were grateful! It is just so sad to see the pastures brown and the grass gnawed to the ground. The heifers here at the barn have not had much grass to eat since May, only hay, and this morning Popa fed a bale to a larger herd. That makes every bale we put up valued.

"It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness." Lam. 3:22,23

Charlotte

Staying Out of the Heat & Catching Up

2011-07-30T19:16:00.001-07:00

In an attempt to stay out of the heat, I've spent time yesterday and today in the sewing room, after the morning chores. I had two baby quilt tops, partially finished and tucked back in the cabinet, so I decided now would be a good time to complete them.

A few years ago I bought this book, and made a twin sized quilt like this

I used a lot of homespun plaids and bright colors, and gave it to one of my granddaughters. The blocks are different sizes and filled out with strips of fabric to make them all the same.

This is the baby quilt top whose blocks were stuffed away in a box, needing to be sized all the same, and a border to put an ending to the strips. The cat's tail, the dog's ears and the cow's ears hang free.

The picture is a little blurred; poor Popa! I asked him to hold it up for me; he frowned and I told him, other men hold up quilts for their wives to take pictures. So, he agreed and was standing under the ceiling fan! so it was waving a little I guess. I'll post about the second quilt top tomorrow. See, it's this way: I'll get them ready, under the ceiling fan, while the temperature is 108*, and quilt them next winter, beside the space heater, when it's 28*.

Charlotte

Why Me, Lord?

2011-07-28T12:33:00.001-07:00

I picked blueberries again this morning, dark sweetness burdening the stems to the ground, and more in abundance than I need. As I popped a few into my mouth, the image of thin, starving babies being left alongside the road to die, in drought stricken areas of Africa, crept into my mind. And I remember these words, penned by Kris Kristofferson a few years ago:

"Why me Lord?

What have I ever done,

to deserve even one

of the pleasures I've known?

Tell me Lord,

what did I ever do,

that was worth loving you

for the kindness you've shown?"

America you've been so blessed!! Can't you see it?

Charlotte

Ready for the Frames

2011-07-26T17:30:00.000-07:00

The little string quilt top is ready for the frames; it measures 38" x 45".

This is the fabric I chose for the borders and the backing. The borders were added, not to make the quilt larger, but to make a stopping point for the string blocks. This piece of fabric was given to me by my oldest daughter a few years ago, and once, when I started to use it for a backing, much to my dismay, it had little holes every so often in the fold. They look like someone snipped the fold while on the bolt. I had wondered if I'd ever be able to use it; today I made the borders from it and have a solution for the holes.

I made five of these wonky house blocks and set them here and there in the top.

This is a picture of the string blocks, showing how I used selvages in them.

Now, this little bear is the solution for fixing the holes in the backing fabric. I'll take his pattern and applique bears over the holes. After all, most of the animals living in the wonky houses are bears. The paw prints on the backing fabric may be dog tracks, but we can pretend they're bear tracks, can't we?

Charlotte

Nature's Summer Singers

2011-07-25T11:44:00.000-07:00

With the hot, dry, summer days comes nature's singers, the cicada and the cricket. And, they have made their presence known in our area this week. One afternoon, as I passed a group of post oak trees, I could hear the song of the cicada above the noise of the Kubota engine, so when I read that these insects produce sounds among the loudest of all insects, I could believe it. Although it's unlikely, their sound can cause permanent hearing loss in humans, should the cicada sing just outside the listener's ears. They produce their loudest "music" during the hottest time of the day; perhaps our hot temperatures are ideal for their concerts!

Crickets -- ahh-- I hate crickets! There's just something about being awaken during the night by the song (chirping) of a cricket that annoys me to no end! And after doing a little research on crickets, I learned that the male does all the chirping, and he doesn't do it by rubbing his legs together. It seems there are "teeth" on the bottom of each wing and the noise is made by rubbing these teeth together, and he has four types of song: a calling song, a courting song, an aggressive song, and a copulatory song.

Last night, around 12:00 a.m., the devil entered a cricket, and soon I was wide awake. It almost made me wish I wore hearing aids that could be taken out and I'd never hear anything again until morning. I knew I couldn't go back to sleep with that shrill "music" streaming down the hallway and into my bedroom, so I got up and walked quietly toward the culprit. The closer I got to the laundry room, the more shrill the noise; then -- silence. I was close to him! I turned on the lights but didn't see anything along the walls, nothing around the washing machine or window, so I got the fly swat and waited for him to resume his concert. Then I saw a little black blob in the corner by the door, and when I tried to pull it out, the blob jumped! That swat was on him in a split second! That was the end of his music!

Thinking back on it, I realize he was singing his calling song, which is fairly loud, trying to attract females and telling other males, "This is my territory! Stay out!" Please, don't attract females to this house! And, I don't know about the folklore which says cricket chirpings are signs of rain; it hasn't had any effect so far. Also, in some countries, a loud chirp means money is coming in, and the cricket must not be killed. Oh dear! What have I done?

Be happy, Charlotte

Gleaning the Fields

2011-07-23T19:13:00.000-07:00

The past few days we've been gleaning the fields for a few more bales of hay, hoping for rain to make the grass grow for one last cutting before fall. It was good hay but very few bales as compared to what there should have been.

This is the view from the front of my tractor; I'm almost a full wind row ahead of the baler. That's the way I like it, so I don't have to feel pressured to hurry.

Today we hauled bales from the field to the house.

Now for some updates on previous posts: 1)The little calf died; she was just too weak to survive. 2)There were twelve comments left for the tomato question. Everyone agreed it was the top of the tomato. You see, I'm the only one in my family who thinks it is the bottom; however, one comment said I was technically correct. I always looked at it this way: that is the end where it is attached to the stem, and if it were not for the weight of the tomato, it would not hang on the vine the way it does, upside down. Also, the blossom would be at the top, I think. Of course, it isn't important; I just know that no one ever wants to eat that slice, whether it's top or bottom; the center slices are always picked first. And since I can't stand to see ONE slice of a good, ripe tomato go to waste, I just take that slice and leave the others for someone else. Another comment ask if a tomato is a fruit or a vegetable -- ?? 3)There is only one little string block left to piece to make enough for the top; needless to say, that one little block has been on my mind all day, but I'm too tired tonight to sew it.

Hope you have a happy Sunday with good friends and family,

Charlotte

A Question for You ---

2011-07-20T10:18:00.001-07:00

This question comes from a controversy in my family, so maybe you can help me.

Is this the TOP or the BOTTOM of a tomato? I'd like to know what you think --

Another Little Mouth to Feed

2011-07-19T12:25:00.000-07:00

Monday evening Popa found a little calf all alone. Then he found a cow with a little calf who was the spittin' image of the first one, so he knew what we had: a set of twins. And, as happens so many times with twins, one was taken and the other left behind. This morning he brought the cow and both calves to the barn here at home and now I guess I have another little mouth to feed; remember I've been feeding one since Mar.{see post for Mar. 3, 2011, Left Alone}

This little calf if not nearly as big as the March calf was, but she sucked the bottle as soon as I gave it to her, so maybe we're off to a good start. She tired quickly, so in order to make sure she got the milk, Popa put it down into her stomach with a tube feeder.

This is her twin sister; they're like "two peas in a pod". Now wouldn't it be nice, if this evening when I go to feed her, she would be sucking the cow? It's not a difficult job, just time consuming and more stuff to wash up.

I wonder what the bigger calf will think when he has to share me with the baby?

Wish me luck! Charlotte

By the way -- I'm not as big as I look in that picture!

My Thought for Today

2011-07-18T15:13:00.001-07:00

Mama must be quilting today, for there are little wads of cotton falling from heaven.

Blueberries

2011-07-17T17:42:00.000-07:00

Our blueberries are ripening and this side of the bush is so full of berries it hangs down into the grass. The bushes are old, and for the most part get little attention as far as cultivation and feeding go. I did just a little pruning last winter to take out old wood. Anyone could have a plant or two; they would be right at home in a yard with some mulching materials and an acidic soil.

Blueberries are hard for me to pick; just because they're blue doesn't mean they are fully ripe and they'll taste sour. I sorta pick them by feel and size; the bigger ones usually have the best flavor. So this year, because of the hot, dry weather some are not getting very large and not as sweet. When the chickens went out I began watering them to try and save more of their goodness. After picking them, which takes me at least an hour to pick a gallon, I can begin to understand why they are so pricey in the grocery stores. Or is it because of all the hype they've been given as to their health benefits?

These are waiting in the refrigerator for someone to come along and claim a box. I have several in the freezer already. Wish I could share with you.

And this is my favorite way to eat blueberries, fresh, with ice cream or cereal. Won't you join me?

Charlotte

My Hands

2011-07-16T10:51:00.000-07:00

I have ugly hands. I used to look at my classmates' hands, with their smooth skin, long slender fingers, and a watch sliding down from their wrists, and wish my hands looked that good. And when I got a watch, nothing changed with my hands.

My hands have thin skin with veins standing up, painful arthritis knots on my fingers, white scars from the removal of precancerous spots, red spots from sun exposure, and even the slightest bump makes a purple spot on them.

My hands are working hands. They can do the simplest of things, from brushing my teeth to combing my hair and pulling on my socks. They can wash dishes, clean toilets, change bedsheets, hold a broom handle and a dust cloth, hold a bottle for the calf, pick up chickens, catch a cow in the head gate, and steer a tractor. They can shell peas and peel potatoes, and although there's a little tremble in them at times, they can still thread a needle and guide it through the layers of a quilt and turn the thin pages of my Bible.

I have good hands and have no need to hide them; for who is going to remember me with, "Do you remember what ugly hands Charlotte had?" I hope the day never comes when my hands lie idle in my lap.

God is good!! Charlotte