Wednesday, April 29, 2009

If You Want to Dance

You have to pay the fiddler. Well Saturday I'm minding my own business, run into the store to purchase a small bottle of tequila to make a Margarita-it had been a tough week. I go in the store, can't find small bottles of tequila, go up to the cash register and proceed to purchase two of those airplane sized bottles then I see the $6 bottle of Cuervo waving at me from the shelf so I say, "oh I'd like to get that instead." We're talking, no problem-I have consumed nothing stronger than coffee at this point. I turn to walk out of the store and am getting my keys out of my purse and since I'm walking right straight to the door I don't look down. All of a sudden I start falling. While falling I'm thinking to myself did I fall into that display of Jagger? WTF did I fall on? KERTHUNK. I'm laying out in the front of the store, I seriously can't move and I know that about 20 people are standing in line at the registers and I'm processing what just happened, very slowly, but I finally sit up and see one of those handheld carry baskets right there at my feet. The GOOBER DOOFUS behind me in line put his basket right at my feet, I mean I seriously didn't take two steps on my way to the door when I wiped out. I was thinking to myself how did that get there, why was it on my left side in the of the path to the door instead of on the right, how did I miss it? Then I slowly look around and I'm sitting right in the path to the door, a crowd there, we're talking stadium numbers, and I try to get up. Uh at this point I realize my right leg is not going to go anywhere. So I scootch on my butt out of the main flow of traffic and everyone is trying to look like they aren't looking at me and also some are offering help and the store manager is trying to collect that money and help her customers and make sure I'm not dead all at the same time. They do offer to call an ambulance and always the optimist I think if I can just get to my truck I'll be fine. The solitude and safety of my truck and all will be well. Well there was no getting there. That pesky kink in my leg and foot was just getting worse. I finally brokedown, called my friend Pam to come and get me and she took me to the ER where I turned down the lortabs, they make me psychotic-the last time I was on them for a broken wrist the boys refer to as the time I was on drugs. Anyway, they took a gazillion xrays and sent me on my way with a knee stabilizer(something out of SAW I tell you) and a big very attractive boot that you can see in the picture below: Apologies for the picture, took it with my Blackberry while waiting on my perscription to be filled. I got a call on Monday that my foot is indeed fractured.

A few things I've learned. I'm not the hermit I like to think I am, I do way more around the house than my family ever dreamed I did, and I'm having anxiety attacks because my friend Pam is doing my carpool duty and I feel awful because it's such a stupid thing and all for a Margarita which I haven't even had yet.

In more pleasant news below you can see my new gardening style:

I bought two of these a couple of weeks ago when my friend told me she saw them at Walgreens, once again a picture from the Blackberry. I have a Roma tomato on the left and a Pink Brandywine tomato on the right. At the moment they are hanging from a double shepherd's hook but the spousal unit is going to hang them from one end of our swing out back, the swing is broken so this would be a perfect spot to hang them in. I think they'll get enough sun. I want to get another one for cucumbers and maybe one for zucchini. I do have a pot of cilantro and one of basil started. I want to plant some jalapenos and bell peppers too. Looks like I won't be doing that any time soon though.

I have done absolutely no stitching at all. Sunday and Monday I was under the influence of painkillers and yesterday I decided it was time to wash my hair and maybe change my shirt that took a couple of hours. Oh yes, I've been real pleasant to be around. Biggest discovery, one cannot carry a glass of water while using crutches. DUH. Oh yeah, I just knew there was a way.

So that's the excitement around here at the moment. To quote Roseann Roseanna Danna, "It's always something."

Would anyone else like to share their most embarassing moment?

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Ye've Plundered My Heart(with apologies to Sue Hillis)

On Sunday I started cutting out all the different red fabrics I've been gathering up for the past year or so, one fat 1/4 here, one fat 1/4 there and I ended up with a pile of 4 inch squares and some 4 1/2 or 5 inch strips. Not sure exactly what I'm going to do with the strips. I'm thinking maybe a pillow or two. Or if I don't have enough squares I can cut them up for more. Yes I'm aware that some of the reds clash, I was just buying the odd red fat 1/4 not really paying attention to the reds actually matching, if they don't work in this quilt I'll find another use for them, really. The fabric will not go to waste! Once my wrist feels a little better after the hours of rotary cutting I'll tackle my white fabrics. I have some skull and cross bone fabrics in red, black and gray and the intention was to sneak the odd block in on the quilt, hence the quilt name, "Ye've Plundered My Heart" totally ripped off from the Sue Hillis cross stitch design of the same name. I may still add one sneaky skull block just to add some quirkiness to the top but I'm thinking that the skull and cross bone fabrics might be good for the back of the quilt. I can pick up more between now and when I get to that point so I might just have a patchwork work back of assorted skulls. Yeah, I'm 12, OK.

In the cross stitch department I started The Primitive Needle's Salem Remembered:

And from the Island of UFOs I picked up Sonne Spotte. Sorry the picture isn't any better. Next time I'll just focus on the area of stitching I'm focused on.

That's it from here. Next time maybe a quilt top, or not!

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

All Powerful and Knowing Ouija

Primitive Needle
The Talking Board
1x2 36ct Relic PTP linen
WDW Charcoal
WDW Bark
DMC 535

Oh wise Ouija--will a publishing company sign me to a three book deal?

Will Hollywood buy the movie rights to my series?

Will I be able to finally buy that dream house in Topanga Canyon?

Will I ever get all the cat and dog hair out of the house? Will I ever get the pile of laundry off the kitchen table? Will anyone in my family pick up after themselves?

I guess I can live with that! I love Ouija boards, always have. My friend Linette and I would spend hours asking it questions. This was a fun stitch and quick for me. I think I started it on Sunday and finished it this morning. It was designed by The Primitive Needle' Check out more of her designs. Salem Remembered is up next in my to stitch pile. I should mention that there are two mistakes in this piece, all my fault, not the chart's. I ripped back three times and could find my mistake or I more than likely kept making the same mistake over and over. I decided late last night I could live with that. I seriously doubt anyone but me knows they are there. I also made one other change because I ran out of WDW's Charcoal and used DMC 535 for the stars at the bottom. I'm debating whether to coffee stain those stars to make them match better. I wish I had thought to just toss the whole skein of DMC in the coffee pot but when I originally compared the colors I thought they were a better match, but I'm happy with the results and I started out with a partial skein of the Charcoal so I'm pretty sure one full skein would be enough.

P.S. Thank you all for the sweet comments about my Papaw.

Wednesday, April 01, 2009

29 Years Ago Today

I attended my Papaw's funeral. This was the first time in my life that death really touched me. My Papaw passed away on March 31, 1980. I remember every moment of that day. He had been in the hospital, being a self absorbed 11th grader, I had no idea they had sent him home to die. That his heart, at the very young age of 60 just didn't have that many more beats left. I got up that Sunday morning, got dressed for church. I had on a blue shirt with trim that matched my red skirt. I walked across the road to my grandparents house to see if they were ready and my Mamaw told me that they weren't going to church Papaw didn't feel like it but she'd run me up there. Mamaw didn't want me to miss church but I said, "No that's ok, I have a term paper to work on. It was a paper on the treatment of the mentally ill in the 1800s. Yes, 11th grade, bizarre subject matter, that's just how I roll. I did write another paper that same year on Eliabeth Barret and Robert Browning and I used Virginia Woolf's book Flush as a source. Anyway, I walked back across the road, I went into my bedroom, turned up the stereo, Jackson Browne's The Pretender, and started sorting 3x5 index cards. The phone rang, I ignored it. The phone kept ringing, no one answered it. Then I get up answer the phone and it's my Mamaw yelling that Brooks is dying. I run for my dad. We both fly across the road, my dad does CPR until the ambulance arrives but it was too late. For 29 years I've wondered if I had answered the phone on the first ring as I normally would have, would anything had been different. I know it wouldn't have but what if....

By the time the ambulance arrived the whole neighborhood and most of the church was on my grandparents' carport. I remember sitting and sobbing, I remember someone(I think it was Donna Graves) telling me he was with God and I remember looking at her and telling her, "I can't listen to that right now, all I know is he's not here so I don't really care about God right now."

There are people that are such a powerful force in our lives that when they are no longer there it leaves a hole the size of the Grand Canyon. That was my papaw. He was bigger than life. You know how AIG is too big to fail, I always thought my Papaw was too big to die. How could the world keep turning if he wasn't here? How would the Bartlett Masonic Lodge continue on with him gone? How would my family hold it together with him no longer there to keep everyone together? He was the one person on the face of the earth my dad would listen to.

My Papaw would have been amused that his funeral was held on April Fool's Day. No one loved a prank better than him. He was wicked. I don't know anyone that ever had a bad word to say about Brooks Gibson. That Randy Travis song "He Walked on Water" that suits my papaw.

He was always there for me and my brother. When my parents bought the house across the road from my grandparents my mother told us we couldn't spend all our time over there and we had to be invited. My little brother would go out to edge of the driveway, wave at my Papaw sitting on the carport and yell over to Papaw, "Hey Papaw do this" and he'd wave his arms like Papaw would if he was motioning for him to come over. Papaw would wave, James would squeal and run in the house and say "Momma, Papaw did this" and he'd wave his arm, "can I go see him?" This happened every single day of my brother's life. We spent a lot of time sitting on that carport with Papaw and Mamaw. We ate popcorn and dranks cokes in the bottle. We sat on the picnic table covered in newspapers and ate watermelon with juice dripping down our arms. We sat and watched my papaw build bicycles for us and every other kid in Ellendale.

In the summer I would put on my bathing suit, slather on the Johnson's baby oil, take a stack of Harlequins, my radio and go "lay out" on my grandparents lounge chair. No sooner did I get all situated when Papaw would come out of the house and say, "Missy, get Buddy(my little brother who was also James, and oh yeah, Little James) and let's go to Baskin Robbins." Papaw always got French Vanilla.

March 31st is always a rough day for me, but April 1st. I remember the funeral like it was five minutes ago. I wore a blue skirt, a blue and white polkadot shirt, it was my favorite outfit. I remember just sitting and crying and my uncle hugging me close. I remember there were so many flowers. I mean wall to wall. I remember that Papaw was buried in his favorite blue leisure suit.

My papaw was a great story teller. He would sit for hours telling family stories, stories that would have us laughing so hard.

I wanted all my friends to meet my papaw. How many teenagers drag their friends to their grandparents house because they think their grandparents are the coolest people on the planet? Well this one did.

I wish my husband and kids could have known him. They would have thought he rocked. My oldest son has his eyes. My papaw had these blue eyes that just glowed and Ryne's eyes are the same.

Brooks Gibson was one of the most important people in my life, and even now 29 years later when I have a tough decision to make or I behave badly, I ask myself what would Papaw think of you?

You would think 29 years would soften the feeling of loss and emptiness but it doesn't. I'm not home to put flowers on his grave, so I'm writing my memories here.