Rough Waters

It's been the better part of a year since I've been here to stay.

Much has changed, much never will.

I was apprehensive about what I would find as a tornado had touched down on the other side of the lake about a week and a half prior.

{Boat and lift flipped completely upside down.}

Thankfully, my little island was unscathed.

I have been here a week.

My days have been spent cleaning, making lists, searching for things that are no longer where they were...things that are, simply, no longer anywhere.

More pieces to pick up, more holes to fill.

Inevitably, and sadly, some pieces will never fit back together, some things will never be found, and some holes will never be filled.

The latest (3rd? 4th?) phase of remodeling is relatively complete.

{Yes, I know I promised someone before and after photos...I will do that at some point...}

The next phase(s) won't start until January or later.  I need to catch my breath and see if my heart is still here.

The first few days were difficult.  No television, no phone, no internet.  No overhead fans working, garbage disposal not working, leak in the laundry room, broken front porch light, broken back door, light switches not working, non-functioning clocks, no window screens... Too much activity on the lake, too many fireworks, too much filth, too much to do, too many memories, too many ghosts, too many haunts.

And something of which I cannot yet speak.

But the days were pleasantly warm, and the sun shone.

I caught the swans and their young swimming in the far bay.

That, too, changed, however.  The clouds moved in, the winds quickened and the lake darkened.

There's still rough waters ahead.

Rajah's Ride, Country Sampler and the Weather in Nod

...in no particular order....

But, let's start with Rajah's ride anyway.

In my last post I mentioned that there were a great many things going on in the background of my world that I doubted you would care to read about.

Your comments and responses were so very heart warming.

Many of the things are trivial...many are unpleasant...and most I feel would likely be "TMI."  But several of you asked specifically about Rajah's dryer ride.

Well, here goes.

Rajah has always had an affinity for hanging out in the dryer.

I have been warned (repeatedly) by well-meaning, animal-loving, friends how dangerous this can be.

I know.

After a life full of animals and pets, many years of schooling (including at the school of common sense), and too many years of experience, trust me, I KNOW.

But I NEVER leave clothes in the dryer once the cycle has ended. (On the rare occasion I have forgotten and have, I rewash the clothes and start over due to wrinkling, etc. so it's a torture I'd prefer to avoid.)

And, besides, I'd obviously notice a 20+# cat in there when I put the wet clothes in.

Except I didn't.

 

I had stripped the guest bed and dried things on the line, but one blanket I do in the dryer.

After several loads of washing sheets, pillowcases and protectors, mattress pads, etc., the final load was the blanket.

I tossed in the dryer, turned it on and walked away.

And heard, THUUMP......TTHHUMMP.....THHHHUUUMMP.

Thinking there was something wrong with the dryer, I walked back to the laundry room and shut down the dryer....

THUUUUMMMMPPPPPPP.

...opened the door...

thuuump...umpp....

And out from the wet folds of the blanket - a bit disoriented and even a more bit put out - crawled Rajah.

In my defense, he had not been caught napping in the dryer in a long, long, time but how I did not notice him in there I do not know.

In any event, he does not seem any worse for the wear...and he's forgiven me.

I think.

In other news, I made my (second) annual trip to Country Sampler in Spring Green. (For those unfamiliar with Country Sampler, it has no connection with the magazine publication.  It started as a quilt store and then morphed into a quilting/cross stitch store and has become a destination mecca for many stitchers worldwide.)

I wish I could say the trip was uneventful, but things in my life never quite seem to be "uneventful."  I drive an older vehicle (2016) and the gps in it has never been updated.  (It is a foreign model, and the nearest service dealer is 2-1/2 hrs away.)  What should have been a 3-hr trip ended up taking 4 hrs due to a bridge that was out.

The detour wound me through roads with hairpin turns, sharp drop-offs and absolutely no shoulders to pull over on nor any towns or civilization to speak of, with my gps constantly trying to redirect me back to the way I originally intended on taking because it wasn't picking up the detour.

Gah!

After about 40 minutes, I finally came to a widening in the road with a bar and 3 houses and pulled over hoping to get some reassurance I was heading the right way.

Upon closer inspection, however, the bar had both a "for sale" and a "closed" sign.

And let's just say the houses were a bit too sketchy for even the likes of me to approach even if any of them had looked inhabited...which they didn't.

Worst of all, my phone had absolutely no network down there, so no outgoing calls or internet (including gps via phone) other than 911.

I still had a little over a quarter of a tank of gas and kept going and finally did get there. But seriously???

The time there was thoroughly enjoyable.  We stitched, we shopped, we were serenaded by a very gifted musician playing in the little park area outside the open windows of our rooms above the shop, ate homemade ice cream, and shopped and stitched some more.

The shop, of course, was full to overflowing with temptations and deliciousness -all decked out with a patriotic, summer vibe.

{Yes, I have a twin to this sweet angel girl....}

I did not purchase much...just a few pieces of linen, and some fabric - and a pattern I've wanted for some time.

And a whale...yes, I purchased a whale.

His name is Humphrey, and he will go to live at the lake...eventually.

The trip home was (blessedly) less eventful having received help researching an alternative route.

It wasn't quite as scenic as my original route or the detour but beautiful, nonetheless.  At least there were shoulders to the roads in some places.

So I am home now, playing catch up with all the background noise.

The trip inspired me to drag a few (very few) pieces of my summer/patriotic decor up from the lower level on my bi-daily trips down there to empty the dehumidifier.

{Vintage cross stitch flag}

I have heard in the news and read in posts and comments the severe heat waves many of you are enduring and lack of rain.

I truly wish I could share some of Nod with you.

I am currently wearing two sweatshirts and waiting for the next wave of storms to roll through.

We are in a flood watch right now...some areas due to get up to 4" of rain in 24 hrs. I have had to hook the hose contraption up to my sump pump pipes again - something I typically never have to do once the spring thaw is done.

Plants are drenched and drowning, but I took this photo of my roses-and-wisteria-gone-rogue before the skies opened up.

Wishing relief to those whose who need it.

Early Birds, Red Birds, Strawberries and Peaches....

Although I feel as though I am living inside a whirlwind, there is not much blog-worthy going on here in Nod.  I'm certain no one cares to read about tedious (and endless) paperwork, gravestone selections, appraisals, remodel snafus and delays, legal dilemmas, Rajah's ride in the dryer, or the Great Rabbit Invasion of Nod.

However, on the happy side of the road, I am planning my second annual trip to Country Sampler in Spring Green for an unnecessary stash-enhancement spree a stitching retreat (of sorts) this weekend and wanted to post before leaving as who knows when I will be back to sorts enough to post when I return.

So...onto Early Birds:

After almost a year of having completed the hooking on "Early Bird" (a design by Lori Brechlin of Notforgotten Farm), I finally got it bound.

The photo above is a bit dark, the one below a bit light...so imagine the colors somewhere in between. (The upper and lower background wool is actually a rich dark, blackish, brown, not black as it is showing.) I could not get one that was "just right" as it seems we've entered into the rainy season here.

The photo below shows the colors probably most accurately, although it is lying kittywampus across a chair:

And, red birds:

These cardinals have a nest out front.  Something about their faces make me think they look cranky, but they really are such playful, happy, things.

I've been in a baking/cooking slump.  It seems so depressing cooking/baking the way I am used to and used to do, when there's just me.  (Yes, I know...freeze smaller portions, etc....I do, but it's not the same and just doesn't seem worth the effort.)

Adding to my quandary, like in other aspects of my life I tend to get into ruts.  Sometimes it's salads, other times pasta, etc.  The fad of the week for me is strawberries.

Today's strawberry de jour is strawberry soup:

Although I'm not a particularly huge strawberry fan generally, there are times I could eat this by the gallons. This is one of those times.

Lastly, since I haven't done a book report/review in a while, for those few who are interested, here you go:

Go as a River by Shelley Read...

This is Ms. Read's debut novel and I have no idea what drew me to it, but I am glad I chose it.  The book was inspired by the true events surrounding the destruction of the small town of Iola, Colorado, by the intentional flooding of the Gunnison River.  The protagonist is a resident who struggles to run the (dysfunctional) family household following her mother's untimely death in a tragic accident.

It is a tale of love, prejudice, isolation, and resilience...and learning to go as a river - flowing and moving forward even when dammed.

...and peaches.  Yes, it's about peaches too.  😉🍑

I'm hoping all is well with all of you.

To those of you who faithfully visit and comment - and those who even only stop by on occasion - thank you. 

You make my world so very much brighter.

Lest We Forget....

 

Memorial Day...f/k/a Decoration Day is a humbling and solemn day, recognizing and remembering those who died in service.  (Veteran's Day...in November...typically recognizes all those who have served or are now serving in the military, as well as their families.)

The "holiday" was originally initiated to honor the massive casualties of the Civil War.  After becoming embroiled in the conflict of WW1, however, Memorial Day, as it came to be known, the day evolved to honor those who died in all wars.

The above poem, "In Flanders Fields," was written by Lt. Col. John McCrae, a Canadian physician and poet after presiding over the funeral of his friend who died in battle during WWI.

My grandfather, John Peter Paul Clausen (yes, that's all one person), did not die in war, but he did serve in WWI.  I never met either of my paternal grandparents, my grandfather having died at 43 in a tragic accident and my grandmother, Emma, at age 44.

   He looks no more than a child as did/do so many.

I did not make it to the cemeteries today as the rain moved in quicker than anticipated (Camelot it's not), but I will go tomorrow.

I hope amid the "holiday" celebrations, there is time to remember and reflect.

Little Joys

It's Mother's Day.  

I know everyone's circumstances are different.

Some are celebrating with, or celebrated by, their families.

Others are alone or grieving.

Yet for others it is just another Sunday.

Whatever your inner world view is at this point in time, I'm sharing some little joys of mine on this day.

Look close...a baby robin peeks out of its nest outside my kitchen window:

Not exactly a "joy," but they are pretty cute...and put an end to my trying to live trap the critters:

Magic in the night sky:

A gray thatcher singing his heart out:

The thatcher's song:

I wish for you a day of little joys.

Lucy Nowlen and Robin's Rules of Wonky...

 After many years of agonizingly overthinking debating linen choices, I finally started - and finished - stitching "Lucy Nowlen."  It is an antique reproduction mourning sampler by Pineberry Lane.

{This is NOT where it will hang. It will be properly pressed and framed...eventually.  I simply tacked it here in order to be able to photograph it without attempting a ladder accident shoot.}

Most traditional mourning samplers have motifs typical of the era - tombstones, angels, willows, urns, etc.  Lucy's, however, is simply verses from an old hymn which was often sung at children's funerals.  The verses - or portions of them - also appeared on tombstones during the early to mid-19th century.

The hymn is attributed to Joel A. Knight and was published in a book of hymns in 1806.

My photos are looking very washed out...In person, the colors are somewhere in between the original and the model photo.  (I did use the called-for floss.)

Nothing is actually known about Lucy.  We can presume, however, that she was a child from the fact that the hymn was a children's song, and that she died prior to 1848 when the sampler was stitched (or finished).  It is also likely that the original sampler was stitched by a family member (I'm thinking a sister?) given the initials 'M.N." on the right side of the sampler.

I stitched mine on 36 count "Wren" by Picture this Plus.  It is worked in a variety of stitches: Algerian eyelet stitches, long-arm cross stitches, and regular cross stiches over 3, over 2, and over 1...a great MANY over 1 (all of the lower case letters from the second verse on are over 1...in addition to some in the first verse as well.

There's your history lesson....Now for Robin's Rules of Wonky....

(Not to be confused with Robert's Rules of Order....

Trust me...you don't want to confuse ANYTHING with that.  As a former elected parliamentarian, I can attest to the tediousness of Robert's Rules of Order.

For those of you lucky enough to never have had to endure membership in a society or organization requiring such antiquated rules of procedure and a parliamentarian to adjudicate the orderly conduct of meetings and business, here's a definition:

parliamentarian

ˌpär-lə-ˌmen-ˈter-ē-ən

NOUN

1. an adherent of the parliament in opposition to the king during the English Civil War
2. an expert in the rules and usages of a deliberative assembly (such as a parliament)
3. a member of a parliament

 

{Hint: I was NOT involved in the English Civil War, nor am I, nor ever was I, a member of a parliament.}

And, yes, yes I do still have my worn copy of Robert's Rules of Order....someplace.)

There's your arcane trivia - and completely uncalled-for digression - for the day.

Anyhow...back to my rules of wonky.

Some of you may remember the battle between my OCD and my fondness for wonkiness while stitching my last large piece ("Grace Bridges" by Stacy Nash).  I ended up spending a great deal of time and energy correcting alphabets, adjusting spaces to suit my sense of symmetry, etc.

So...you may wonder why I would not have done the same with this piece given the numerous instances of wonkiness. The same letters are stitched differently in different words and sometimes in the same word, words in the same line of verse are stitched higher or lower than other words in the line, missed stitches in certain letters, incongruent punctuation, etc.  Most obvious of all are the errors in numbering the verses:  "2rd" (vs. "2nd") and "3th" (vs. "3rd").

And absolutely no tug of war with my OCD...because this is a reproduction of an actual antique sampler versus a sampler that was simply designed to look old.

This is the way that the stitcher - whoever she/he was - stitched it originally 176 years ago, and Wendy (a/k/a Pineberry Lane) took great pains to dissect the original and chart it exactly as it had been stitched so long ago.

I felt obliged to honor both Lucy and the stitcher of her humble sampler by following her needle paths exactly - or at least to the best of my ability.

Not that you asked...but there you have it.  My rules of wonky.

The Keeper of the Tulips...and the Squatters

 

It's been a year and a half since I lost my best friend.

Time has only honed the wound, not softened it.

There are daily reminders of his absence.

Every day...and every night.

Spring is slowly waking here in Nod...but this year there will be no tulips blooming.

Snowdog was a great many things, not the least of which was the Keeper of the Tulips.

Even when age and illness limited his mobility, he would make his rounds making sure other critters in the kingdom of Nod knew he was still there.

And my tulips were safe.

But this year, is the second year spring he is not here, and the rabbits are running rampant.

Big ones:

Little ones:

Strangely patterned ones:

And in-between ones:

What is left of the tulips isn't pretty.

But even worse than the tulips are the "squatters."

As soon as the sun goes down and the dark settles properly in, the "noises" begin.

Loud, running, thumping sounds on top of my basement's tin ceiling that conjures movies like "Aftermath" or "Boy in the Walls," rousing the cats from their beds and bringing them sprinting down the stairs...only to retreat quickly looking thoroughly shaken.

I have had two contractors come over to "investigate" and both have told me that at the time of WWR ("When We Remodeled"), the foundations on the basement additions were not properly sealed - leaving open a literal thoroughfare to critter squatters from the outside.

However, neither contractor could actually fix the problem. 

Apparently it is a MAJOR problem and will involve a great deal of "moving" - of furniture, stuff, landscaping, etc.

I've put peppermint oil, Irish Spring soap, cayenne pepper, and chives around the foundation to no avail. (I had an owl decoy too...but it flew blew away in the last storm.)  Live traps you say? Yes, I tried that too...but for every one caught and released miles away, 2 more appear.

Initially I thought it was red squirrels who were "squatting" in my basement ceiling, but they've been relatively scarce of late, while the rabbits, well, the rabbits have been doing what rabbits do best - multiplying. (See comment above re live traps.)

This is one of the burrows under the porch that is I believe is a port of entry as every morning whatever dirt or stones I've placed there is worked around and the entry reopened and I've seen the adorable little fur things coming and going from it.

Rabbits to me are so stinking adorable....but they are really getting on my very crankiest side.

So there you have it: Another day in a (very) cranky crow's life in the merry ol' land of Nod.

Guess daffodils will have to do this year.