The Farm Girl Sampler and the "The Hooty Bunch" (owl quilt) both came back from the the quilter this week. Another great job by Lena Colley and her quilters at New Traditions in Birmingham, Alabama. When I picked these quilts up, I dropped off two more: "Dancing Leaves" and "Autumn Charms." I hope to have at least two more ready for quilting by the time I pick those up.
The Hooty Bunch...
...and their predecessors, the Brady Bunch (who remembers?)
I haven't got much work done in the sewing room this week, except for completing a few red string blocks for the Talking Turkey quilt. I have been trying to push through a full-on fibro flare with accompanying back pain, and, as those of you with chronic pain/fatigue issues know, it's not easy. Every time I have a bad flare, I think, "This is it. This time it's going to take me down." But I just keep pushing and pushing and groaning and moaning--and eventually I'll be rewarded with a few days or weeks of feeling better. The last respite lasted quite a while. Long enough to get a lot of quiltmaking done. I'm hoping for another one of those soon.
The drought continues here. The last rain I can remember was in August (with the exception a about a dozen raindrops one Sunday about a month ago). This week, my town of Leeds experienced a very scary fire on the outskirts near the interstate. Homes and businesses were threatened, including the home of a good friend of mine. But the Leeds and Moody fire departments, as well as many volunteers, sprang into action and saved the day. No structures were lost and no one was injured.
But still we're on pins, needles, and tenterhooks, just waiting for the next one. Last night at a little after midnight, I let the dogs into the back yard for their last pee pee, and I could smell smoke. There are woods very near me, and half my back yard is a mini woods, so I had a hard time going to sleep wondering if there was fire nearby. Today it still smells smokey outside, but there doesn't seem to be any fire near me.
True Story: When my sister Ramey and I were little kids, we liked to pretend were Indians. One sunny summer day, while we were well into our Native American characters, we decided to do a rain dance, which we did with enthusiasm. About 30 minutes later, my dad pulled up in his pickup truck. It was midday, not near time for Daddy to be home from his job as a bricklayer.
"What are you doing home so early?" my mama asked him.
"Darnedest thing," he replied. "There was not a cloud in the sky one minute, and the next we got a downpour."
I think it's high time Ramey and I put on our rain-dancing shoes and started stepping.
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On 10/30/2016, Sue, a Florida Farm Girl said ...
Oh, yes, Please -- you and Ramey need to be stepping high for a long time, and please send some of the results eastward. Doesn't Lena do a great job? I met her once at a retreat in Odenville.
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