Sunday, July 11, 2010
I have another Boo-Boo. Are you all ready, lined up and ready to say"ooooooooh" and show lots of pity?
Here's the story. We have one of those wonderful Sun Downer awnings you see ads for on TV. They are really nice. They are really treacherous.
Every year DH and I get into this argument as to how the damned thing gets set up. He blasts outside, going to do it his way. I head for the instruction book, which he says is "STUPID and WRONG", which it is neither. But it isn't that clear, either, to give him some credit.
Anyway, along with bickering and a few shouting matches, we begin to set it up. I keep telling him how to do it, and he keeps yelling at me that he is AN ENGINEER AND DOESN'T NEED TO BE TOLD HOW TO SET UP A DAMNED AWNING. Back and forth it goes.
I am standing there on my end, holding up one of the bars, when he relaxes his end and down the upper bar comes, slamming my ring finger and thumb between the two bars that are made to fit together sans finger and thumbs.
I can't get it to let go, and I stand there screaming my head off, while DH is frozen in place, getting whiter by the second. Remember, he is the guy who FAINTS when he sees me hurt.
I yell at him that he " CANNOT FAINT, AND GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!!" He wobbles over and lifts the bar as I instruct him to. I get my hand out, he sees blood, and faints.
I go into the kitchen and run my injured hand under cold water, leaving him on the deck floor. Man o Man! Does that ever HURT!
He finally resusitates himself and comes wobbling in, white as a ghost. He says he feels sick. I have no time for this, and let him know that I need some medical attention before he feels sick, and since he is the only one outside of the dog and cats, he is nominated to be my nurse, with no fainting or puking allowed.
We get the merthiolate on the cuts and get my finger all bandaged up. Then we start to work on my thumb, and he announces he doesn't think he can do this any longer.
Again, I yell at him that " THIS IS NO TIME FOR YOUR DRAMATICS! GET WITH THE PROGRAM AND GET MY THUMB TAPED UP!!!"
The task is finally completed and I tell him we have to go out and put up the stupid awning. He looks at me like I am nuts..........which I no doubt am........but isn't that what shock is FOR??
You have to take advantage of shock in order to do the next thing, right?
Lo and behold, we do get the awning up, and I go inside to watch a ball game while he goes into the bathroom to throw up. I have no pity for him at this point.
When he comes staggering out, I tell him to sit on the sofa before he falls down, for which he humbly obeys.
The next day I go to the Dr. and get an x-ray. I haven't broken anything, but the Doc says I "really arranged the shape and size of my finger and thumb" whatever the hell THAT is supposed to mean.
I now have a finger splint on and my thumb and wrist are in a soft cast.
I hope you appreciate all my typing of this blog to you!
Ok. Now is the time to groan out "ooooooh" in pity for me again, just in case you forgot.
I am also going to tell you about Bossy Daughter's latest brain fart.
She decided that she wants chair pads, which is great.
She uses this book that I am sure she found either at either Goodwill or a garage sale, chooses a pattern, and orders her fabric. Okay. Nothing wrong so far, right?
She gets her fabric, and cuts out all the pieces to the pads. Then loses interest.
We all know what is next. I get a package of fabric, an old book with the pattern marked, batting, and small pieces of fabric already cut out.
Yes. I have been given instructions that I am to put the chair pads together. No measurements of her chairs come with my instructions. The measurements are a result of three phone calls to her, telling her I need to know the size. I finally get it..........15 inches, which is what I suspected.
I take her little pieces of carefully cut out fabric and beging to sew them together. Something is wrong. First, the pattern is not a good one for the selected fabrics, but that's okay..........it's her choice.
But something else is wrong. I can just feel it. I complete one of the tops, and it is really quite small. TOO small.
Check her templates. Aha! No SEAM allowance on the templates, and no seam allowances on the cut fabric.
OK. Make new templates, but only after I have checked the book. Sure enough, there is only one sentence in the FOREWORD of the book, mentioning no seam allowances have been added to the patterns.
So I begin cutting out the right sizes, put one of the blocks together, and it doesn't look good. It looks messy and jumbled due to the selected fabric choices. I need to find another pattern for her.
We talk a few times, and then I realize she was only going to have a pattern on one side, with the back just being plain. She says she wants to be able to reverse them, and doesnt' really like the idea of the back being plain, but doesn't know what she can do about that.
NEVER say something like that to a quilter!! When we hear something can't be done, we are all over it!
I get out my graph paper and design something that should work size wise, and will look great on both sides of the pads. Two different patterns.
I don't have enough of the rose fabric left, so have to find more of that fabric, which is a discontinued design. After an afternoon on the net, I finally find some. They have 3.5 yards left, and I order all of it.
The project SIDE ONE is at a standstill. So I begin working on SIDE TWO.
Oh oh. I won't have enough of the sand fabric. I am going to be short about 4 inches of fabric! It only takes me three hours on th net this time to find someplace with that. I get it ordered, and now have to await deliveries of two fabrics.
Okay. I will cut the batting pieces up. Since I am going to have two very different patterns, I choose to put one piece of batting to the top and one piece of batting to the second side, quilting each one separately so the stitching can complement each pattern.
I can't tell you the patterns now, because Bossy Daughter reads my blogs. After she receives them, I will post the photos for you.
So since I can't do dishes, I can lay my hand flat on the fabric while I sew, I can iron with one hand, and I already have the pieces all cut out. I can also watch ball games.
I am training DH nicely. He's coming right along.
Oh sheesh! He just informed me that we have no water pressure, which I immediately think of as a broken pipe. He looked at me like I am nuts.........he has that look down pat..........and stalks off to measure the water pressure.
My hand is suddenly too painful again, and I think I need to sit quietly and watch a ball game.
Saturday, July 03, 2010
We all stand on the shoulders of great men and women who laid down their very lives so we could live in this beautiful country. Thank you, all.
Friday, July 02, 2010
Dianne and Christopher became my friends via Spark.
Christopher had cancer, and he received an Ally Cat Quilt by Krackers from me. A very small token to what he gave back in return.
Christopher left this world at 6:45 on July 1, 2010.
Dianne, Christopher's valiant Mom, and I have become quite close, as I too, have buried my son, Christon.
My son died on July 7, 1971.
Both of our children had been seriously ill for years. Dianne and I both learned to question the existence of God, and each of us became constant compainions to Fear.
Fear that our children would never get well. Fear that each test was going to bring negative results. Fear that we were ignoring our other child because of the necessary long days and nights spent at hospital with our son. Fear of financial ruin due to the immensley high medical bills.
Fear of going into grocery stores because we might contact some germ that we would carry to our sick child and the other children on the floor. Fear of people coming up to us and asking how Chris was doing.
Fear of not being able to hold back when people said stupid things like "This will all be okay" and "Pray" and "God must have His reason for making your child sick". The urge to lay into these people, to yell and shout at them "You don't know what the HELL you are talking about!" and "Don't you KNOW that I am questioning the very EXISTENCE of God??"
The Fear of not being able to hold back from physically attacking them, the doctors, the lab people. Fear of not being able to not yell at our child and say "Stop this right NOW! Get out of that damned bed and get on with LIFE!"
Fear of our own impotency and inability to protect our child.
Fear that maybe, somehow, we made our child sick. Maybe it was a sin we had committed, or perhaps this is God's punishment to us for being bad.
Fear, Fears, Fears permeating our entire existence.
All the tears of a lifetime spent, with no more to ever come again.
Fear of the quiet. Fear of not knowing how to put a life back together after having basically no life at all other than illness and hospitals.
Fear of the empty arms. Arms that will always be empty.
Pain at watching other children being healthy, playing and laughing. Anger at parents who yell at their child, or grab them harshly and be mean to them instead of trying to understand what is wrong and taking the time to listen to their child.
Children are precious gifts, and laughter is so very necessary to them and to us.
All mothers who have lost their child know that this pain never leaves us. It lives with us, day in and day out. It becomes part of us.
The only solution is to learn to make peace with the pain. Allowing it to be there, but not giving it the power to take over our entire lives.
We learn to cry softly alone, not wanting to talk to anyone about it for fear they would make some stupid comment or try to cheer us up. Sometimes the best thing for us to do is give ourselves time for grieving, no matter how many years have passed.
Eventually, my Dear Dianne, this wisdom will come to you. Take time to grieve, and take time to heal. As much time as you need.
Do not go on other peopole's schedule, for by now you have learned to write all schedules in water. You have learned to live in the "right here, right now", and you know the true importance of life.
There are many of us "Empty Arms Mothers" who walk softly along side of you. We sadly allow our tears to join yours, and solemnly nod our heads in complete understanding.
We are so very sorry you have had to join our group, for we know the entry fee all too well. Our bond is ever strong, and is unbreakable. Our love comes from the deepest part of us, and our tenderness reaches out for you.
I know I can speak for all of us when I say that we are HERE for you, at any time, in any manner. No matter the cost, the distance or the time.
We know how very important your well being is, and we place that as first priority in our lives.
Some have been able to reconcile with God, others have not. But we have all been able to reconcile with Love..........that deep DEEP love that comes from the entire being.
We know the value of truly SEEING each other, and truly being able to nuture one another.
Yes, we do go through life more quietly, and only share the story of our child with those we know we can totally trust. We hold our pain deep inside, and hold our heads up high., and not allow any tarnishing of our experience with those who have only learned to care on a shallow basis.
Somewhere, somehow, we KNOW that we raised ourselves up to our highest being. We know that we were strong, faithful, dutiful, loyal and loving. We know we did our very best. We know that we gave our smiles and laughter to brighten our child's day, and hid our tears from them becaue we did not want to cause them any angst. We truly were Better than we ever thought we could have been.
We know we LOVED. COMPLETELY, FULLY, LOVED.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
I don't want to brag or make anyone jealous but..............
I can still fit into the earrings I wore in High School!!!
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