From a Distance
Death comes stalking on cancerous feet
taking down lives on the edge
of my awareness.
First in rumors;
the threat to a relative of a friend of a cousin
now eight days in the hospital, or
the newspaper article about someone once known.
It’s over there. I needn’t worry. No reason to be upset.
Closer, creeping along the ground like
toxic gas in a WWII movie,
Death moves in for another kill.
A stranger living three doors down
didn’t make it. Can you
spare some change for the funeral?
I check my loved ones. Do we have our masks in place?
The father of a friend is diagnosed.
But he is old. He is old. Does that really count?
When death comes stalking on cancerous feet,
aren’t the old already
on the battle lines?
As if that could keep the tears of those who love him at bay.
And closer it comes.
A sister in law! But I know her face! I know her voice! Did I not see her
only a few years ago?
Level Four Cancer.
She has no hope.
No one has told her yet.
Things have not been working right
for a while now. Nothing important,
just a blemish on the nose, a cough
that never goes, a strange shape
to the belly.
I’m being paranoid. Stop that!
Still,
I check myself. I wonder
will I be next?
She had no symptoms she cared to share,
but then, neither do I.
T13: Skirts I made
I got all of these out of my closet today. One of them is over 20 years old. One I made last fall.
1. This is the oldest. When I first made it I was proud because I was experimenting with making a skirt without using a pattern. Now it makes me feel like I’m in the circus. I use it as a slip.
2. My first experiment with combining pleats and gathers. One of my favorite, but it isn’t color fast, so I don’t use it all that much.
3. Another skirt turned slip. This one’s almost a gonner, it’s getting so thin.
4. Yeah, I know, it’s way too cutesy for someone my age. I love it anyway.
5. I would like this better if it were a little longer. It hits just below the knee.
6. This one too.
7. I wear this once, maybe twice a year, usually around New Years Eve.
8. Those are penguins doing sports things like ice skating on ice flows. I wear it around the house.
9. I slapped this puppy on my scanner and used it as the background on my web site. Didn’t work the way I had hoped, but I still like it.
10. You should see the looks I get when I wear this one to Wal Mart. You’d think they’d never seen a long, vellour skirt before.
11. I just about live in this one. No reason for it, I just like it.
12. I’ve never worn this one. Eventually I’ll finish the vest that goes with it and start to use it.
13. The youngest. I wear it all the time.
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Nicholas
Stephanie Adkins
Harriet
samulli
Auntie Q
PopArtDiva
Wife of a Sailor
{S.T.U.F.F.}
Mozi Esme
Small Reflections
By George! She Found Her Man.
Prince George IV and his daughter, Princess Charlotte, didn’t see eye to eye on whom she should marry. He thought she should marry a buddy of his; an alcoholic bounder. She thought not. It became a contest of wills.
If the Prince Regent thought he held all the high cards in his showdown with Charlotte, he overlooked something rather obvious. No amount of privation would change Charlotte’s mind. She was right, being kept in Cranbourne Lodge wasn’t pleasant, but it was a damned sight better than being married to an ugly, stupid drunk. Dad could not possibly keep her prisoner forever, but once she married the Prince of Orange…
She sent dad a letter laying out, again, her intention to never marry the Prince of Orange. Dad gave up. With a heavy heart, dad responded that she had won. He would never bring the subject up again. She was free to do as she pleased. Princess Charlotte began to improve immediately.
She stayed on at Cranbourne Lodge for several weeks, because she wanted to, not because she had to. She was sending and receiving mail freely. Lady Ilchester noted “an air of happiness about her which she had not seen before.”
This was partly attributable to the fact that Princess Charlotte had met a man she actually did want to marry. He filled the bill perfectly. At least, among the fellas she had seen to date. She wrote to Miss Elphinstone; “at all events, I know that worse off…I cannot be than I am now, and after all if I end by marrying Prince L, I marry the best of all those I have seen, and that is some satisfaction.”
Prince L was Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg- Saalfeld, a very minor German Principality. Dad was not thrilled with her choice. He could see no advantage in Charlotte marrying such a fellow. Why, not only was his family of no political importance, they were poor as church mice! Leopold may have been a prince, but he was renting an apartment above a grocer’s shop in Marylebone High Street. Imagine the scandal if a fellow like that were to be seen…looking for a job!
But there were things that dad could not see that Charlotte did that made all the difference. Trivial things, to be sure, but girls latch onto the silliest things. According to one historian, Prince Leopold “was good looking and charming in a rather solemn kind of way. Talented and respected, he was as smart as the Prince of Orange was slovenly.”
How Charlotte could prefer good looking, smart, respected, talented and charming, but poor, to ugly, stupid and drunk, but rich, baffled dad. If dad was baffled by Charlotte’s choice, he was enraged to learn that Charlotte was being encouraged in her choice by…the Duchess of Oldenburg! Was there no end to the evil that woman was willing to perpetrate? What had he EVER done to her?
The fact that the Prince Regent’s brother, the Duke of Kent, championed the match was not a plus in their favor. In fact, it was the Duke who served as courier for letters between the two. However, the Duke of York also favored the match, as did Lord Castlereagh, who had met Leopold at the Congress of Vienna and formed a very high opinion of him. Dad was out-maneuvered. William was out, Leopold was in. At least Charlotte was getting married. Now she would be her husbands cross to bear. Leopold didn’t see it that way at all. Self-aggrandizement was not among Leopold’s faults. The fact that Charlotte was heir to the Throne of England was not the reason he wanted to marry her. Indeed, Charlotte being who she was, or rather, who she would become, made things more difficult for the two of them as far as he was concerned.
Most people who were close to both agreed. Leopold’s attraction to Charlotte was genuine, as was hers to him. In January 1816, the engagement was announced. Bowing to the inevitable, dad decided if this thing were to be done, it had to be done right. The Prince Regent had a party to plan.
The party would be held at Brighton Pavilion. Unlike most of the Prince’s parties, this was kept small. Small by his standards anyway. Thirty to forty at dinner. Since this was her granddaughters party, the Queen couldn’t hope to keep the Princesses at Windsor. With the exception of meals and musical entertainments, nothing was planned. This gave the guests plenty of time to explore the Pavilion, which awed everyone.
“Guests strolled up and down between the cast iron and bamboo staircases at either end of the Chinese Gallery, their brilliant suits and dresses illuminated by the colored lanterns and reflected in the panels of looking glass on the doors.”
Wrote Lady Ilchester to a friend; “The Chinese scene is gay beyond description, and I am sure you would admire it, as well as the manner of living at the Pavilion.”
Charlotte was extremely happy that dad seemed to be taking it so well, the Prince was happy to see his daughter, and everyone else, so happy, although his gout was bothering him and he had to be wheeled about in a Merlin chair. The Princesses were beside themselves to out of the “Windsor Nunnery” and even the Queen was reported to be “much better tempered than usual.”
Not long after this, Charlotte visited The Queen so she could get a dose of queenly advice on how to be a good royal wife and mother. This was quickly dispensed and then the two got on with what grandma really wanted to talk about. Planning her wedding and reception! Woohoo! This was gonna be fun! And complicated, and expensive.
Plans had to be laid as to living arrangements after the wedding. Staff had to be appointed, budgets drawn up, the houses furnished and decorated, carriages ordered. And Prince Leopold, everyone just adored him to bits…but…it was too, too obvious that he had precious little to spend on a wardrobe. That had to be taken care of right away. Time for a Royal Makeover!
— Mr Al
More on Sewing Machines
I’m afraid I haven’t made it down to JoAnne’s for that photo of the bars. I’ll try again today. They literally have the machines behind bars. They are also set so high it isn’t possible to test run them. Seriously, you get as much help shopping for a sewing machine there as you would from Wal Mart.
Seems around here sewing machines just naturally get sold along with janitorial supplies. The place I got my Baby Lock (yes, I got it) is like that. So is another place I looked, and the last in town, which had apparently gone out of business.
When I went back to the place with the Baby Locks, I went prepared. I had fabric scraps from projects I remembered offered particular challenges. I asked if I could play, and they said yes. In the course of an hour or two I tried out three different machines. I poked at Audrey, but as much as I love the idea of a free spirit sewing machine, I decided I’d rather be one than own one. It traded off to many of the features I liked for durability.
I went back already knowing that Natalie wasn’t going to cut it. I’d have to move up to Marie at least. When I walked out, it was with Grace. Hey, they had a sale! What can I say?
The owner is the one who sold me on it. Frankly, the fantastic way he did it was very simple. He taught me to use the machines, one after the other. He showed me what each of the presser feet does, and how to get each of the stitches. With the help of Grace I got the all time best top stitch of my life! Seriously, this sucker made a perfect line less than an eighth of an inch from the edge. My stitch in the ditch wasn’t as good, but I was doing lace over velvet. You gotta expect the stiches to show when you pull on the lace.
They only had the demo model there, and most of the millage on it I put there myself, so I took it. Am I the only one who thinks it was funny that they had to work hard to find the box so I could go home with Grace in a box? Sounds like a band, doesn’t it? All I can say is the staff was great for putting up with me.
After the sale was made and I was ready to go, the owner lured me over to look at one last machine. It was no where near my price range, which is why he didn’t show me before. The brand name was some TV personality who does a quilting show on PBS. If you quilt you would probably recognize the name right off, but like I said, I’m not that kind of quilter.
This sucker was sweet!!! He had me stitching at 45 degree angles backward! Everything was right there at the touch of a button, even the lift on the presser foot. The only thing it didn’t do was embroidery. Yeah, I don’t really need all that anyway. I walked out with Grace in a box. Who could ask for more?
Oh, and if you end up at Bob’s Sew and Vac, tell him Alice sent you. They won’t know what you’re talking about but I’ll feel important. *grin*
Update: I finally got back to JoAnnes and got the pix. What do you think? Would you buy here?
Sewing Machines
I’ve been looking for a new sewing machine. My old one is about 20 years old, and frankly, I wore it out. It’s a Kenmore that has seen everything from chiffon to canvas, sometimes one on top of the other.
I need a machine that can do everything the old one did and hold up at least as well. You’d think this wouldn’t be hard to find because I pretty much live on straight stitch and zigzag with a little hem stitch or button hole thrown in now and then. All of this is stuff you’d expect of any machine. I mean, I’m not looking to embroider on my machine since I prefer to do that by hand and the kind of quilting I do doesn’t need anything fancy. So this should be easy, right?
Not.
The problem is the durability thing. Apparently the latest trend in sewing machines is disposability.
Jo Anne’s Fabric’s had a sale on of Singer machines. Apparently Singer is all they carried. I was all set to settle for one of these, but I was confronted by bars. I’ll explain that tomorrow with a photo. I’ll admit these machines are extremely cheap. I’ve been known to drop half the price of one on fabric in a single shopping trip.
Um… I did mention I have ABLE, right? Acquisition Beyond Life Expectancy. Yeah, I got it bad. Lately I haven’t been able to make many inroads into the piles of fabric I’ve acquired because my machine just isn’t cutting it.
Oh, right. The new sewing machine.
I went to catch the sale at Jo Anne’s twice. The first time was before the official sales date started, and the store was packed anyway, so I didn’t worry too much when I couldn’t get anyone to come over and help me look at machines. I knew I wasn’t going to get to try them out because of how they were displayed, but I thought I could at least discuss them. I went back a couple days later.
No go. In fact, when I finally chased a clerk down, she walked away while I was talking to her. For real. All she was willing to do was unlock the bars on the cage so I could get at them to take to the counter. Yeah, like I’m going to drop a couple hundred without thinking about it.
I went to a sewing and janitorial place where they had machines set up so you could actually try them. What a difference! The sales staff was wonderful. I’ll get back to that tomorrow too. The price, however… gulp. And the machines were a brand I’m not familiar with; Baby Lock.
So I left and checked out a couple other places and went online to look around. I discovered the Singer’s official web site had NOTHING in the way of warranty info. But Baby Lock does. Guess what else I discovered;
http://www.babylock.com/a-line/audrey/
That’s right, they have a sewing machine named Audrey. How cool is that?
Blond Brownies
This is from the Better Homes and Gardens “New” Cook Book from 1981.
2 c flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 c butter
2 c brown sugar
1 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 c chopped walnuts.
Grease a 13x9x2 baking pan. Combine flour, baking powder, and salt. Melt butter, remove from heat. Stir in sugar. Add eggs and vanilla; stir til combined. Stir dry ingredients and walnuts and sugar mixture. Spread in pan. Bake at 350 F for 20 to 25 minutes. Cut into bars while warm. Makes 48.
Click the picture to go to the hub
If you did a recipe or a food photo today, leave your link in the comments and I’ll link to you here in a week or so.
Tamy with Chocolate Pineapple Cheese Cake
Janet featured Norm’s pizza pictures
Angela with a recipe for taco casserol
Drowsy Monkey with pictures of one heck of a cake
Mimi, I can’t find your post and Chuchie, I can’t find your blog.
Return of the Prodigal Son
Veronica: I’m so sorry. I really did think your dog was for sale. As you see, I love dogs.
Jack: It’s fine. We’re just glad to have him back.
Veronica: Bye, bye. Take good care of him, now.
Jill: Hey, Dear, since when has Tonic had a purple collar?
Jack: Heck with that. Since when has he walked on his hind legs?
Today’s theme is Purple
Previously in Jack and Jill The Search
I also recommend you check out this episode, if you haven’t seen it before: Sold
Saturday photo scavenger hunt
The rules for Photohunt can be found here.
Be sure to visit the home page.
Suzie’s House 113: Leaving on a Jet Plane
Seven pairs of panties, Six bras, one pair if jeans, a denim jacket, two broomstick skirts; was that all the last month of her life amounted to? Christina placed each item in her suitcase with a growing sense of loss.
She hadn’t captured either of the O’Connors. If anything, she’d proven she really wasn’t cut out for field work. But she’d also discovered an innate morality she hadn’t realized was important until her job called it into question.
Lying, cheating, hurting people, who knew they’d be so necessary?
Well no more. She’d go back to monitoring broadcasts and the internet with a clear conscience and only one regret. She wished she hadn’t fallen for Sean O’Connor.
She could have gone ahead and gone after Joseph O’Connor, but when she hit the deadline and still didn’t have enough proof to convince her superiors of anything, she decided against it. Let the FBI handle it. If they were really interested. She left a message with SAC Andrew Banks. So far, he hadn’t returned her call, which only made her feel all the more useless.
With a decisive zip, she closed the suitcase. Time to go.
The knock came on the door while she was looking around her hotel room for anything forgotten. Speak of the devil, it was Andrew and his friend, the one who had been shot by Joseph.
“I was just leaving,” she said as she hefted her suitcase off the bed.
“Moving to another hotel?” Andrew looked around the room with the sharp eyes of a cop.
“No. Going home. I’m off the clock now.”
He quirked an eyebrow in response, but didn’t ask the obvious questions, the questions that could force her to face her failures.
“You’re here about Joseph, right?” She waited for his nod, though she didn’t need it. “I can’t tell you much. Walk with me.” She set the suitcase on it’s wheels, adjusted the strap of her purse, then headed out the door with the two men flanking her. “I could usually find him in James Madison Park, or at any of the bars in town that serve Guinness, preferably on tap. The only friends I know about are the guys with the farm house I sent you to last time, and Mike and Carl from Four Star Video. Outside of that,” She paused to punch the elevator button, “I don’t know anything.”
“You know Joseph better than we do. Tell us what he’s likely to do? Will he go back to any of his old haunts, or strike out new? I’m not even sure he’s still in the States. He came from Ireland, didn’t he?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.” Christina raked her fingers through her hair, pulling it back from her forehead.
“Yes. You do.” Andrew squeezed her shoulder in comradely support. “You worked this case for months. You got close to both Sean and Joseph. Did you know Sean never saw through your cover? I’ve questioned him extensively, got enough to lock him away for a long time. He still has no idea who you really are.”
“Hah.” The sound was harsh in her own ears, a spasm of pain more than a laugh. Christina covered her mouth and blinked hard, fighting off tears. “You don’t either. I’m not a real agent. I mean, I am, but not a field agent. This was never a serious assignment, and I did it so poorly.”
“No. No, that’s what Drew is trying to tell you. You did good.” The other guy, Vin, put his hand on her other shoulder. “You’re the one to tell us what we need to know.”
The elevator doors slid open. Christina shrugged off their support to board. They followed, so they formed a private circle in an otherwise empty elevator. Both men looked so earnest.
“Just give us what you really think. That’s all we’re asking,” Andrew said.
They meant it. They really did value her opinion. They trusted her. A part of Christina was pathetically grateful. And a part was proud.
“Go to Mike and Carl’s place.” She gave them the address, in case they forgot. “Joseph is running out of options. He likes to think he’s always running the show as Sean’s big brother, but Sean often came up with what they really needed and Mike and Carl are more his friend’s than Joseph. I know it probably doesn’t make sense, but that’s where I’d go if I were Joseph.”
The men nodded, soaking up every word as if she’d said something important.
“Right. Thanks. For everything.” Andrew reached out.
She held her hand out to be shaken. His manner made her fell like a professional. She felt like she should warn him about her, but what could she say?
“Good luck. By the way, my name isn’t really Christina.”
The men exchange questioning glances. She didn’t care.
“My real name is Renee.”
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T13: Thirteen Pieces of Fabric
I sew. What you see above is a crazy memory quilt I made from the scraps of different projects. I tried to have only one piece from each project, but there are a few duplicates. This is what I made with the rest of the material.
1. A nightgown and pajama bottoms for The Girl. She tends to wear them together and look like she’s from India.
2. A leotard for The Girl. She wore it once, said it was scratchy and hasn’t worn it since.
3. Two shirts, three skirts, and a jacket for me.
4. PJs for The Girl.
5. The skirt for a costume for The Girl. She looked like Holly Hobby.
6. A nightgown for The Girl. Hmmm… seems to be a pattern here.
7. A skirt for me, that I later pulled apart, having discovered why you shouldn’t make skirts out of upholstery fabric.
8. A swimming cape for my mother.
9. A skirt for me, one of my favorites.
10. A swimsuit for me.
11. A cape for The Boy. Used in five succeeding Halloweens by one kid or the other. Still one of their favorites.
12. A nightgown for The Girl. She outgrew it in two years, but kept wearing it for another year and a half.
13. A Chinese princess costume for The Girl.
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Chameleon@CoffeeBreak
Tamy~3 Sides of Crazy
Debbie@Like a Rose
PopArtDiva
Eaton Bennett
By George! She's Been Abandoned.
Just when Princess Charlotte needed her mother’s backing the most, Princess Caroline threw in the towel. She was more than willing to allow Charlotte and any heirs to Charlotte lose their place in the British monarchy just to get away from Prince George. What is a princess to do?
The first week of August 1814, Princess Caroline boarded the frigate H.M.S. Jason with as motley an assortment of flunkies, hangers-on and servants as had ever set foot on one of His Majesties ships. Among them was a twenty five year old doctor, Henry Holland, whose favorite prescription was “a frequent half-hour of good conversation.” One observer noted that the good doctor was “unfit to attend to a sick cat.”
The Prince Regent was delighted. The more friends of his wife that left the country with her, the better. They would help her burn through her money in record time. And when she came begging for more, and he didn’t doubt for a moment that she would, oh boy! The pleasure he would get in telling her to go to hell! But before we can follow Caroline into her self-imposed exile, a few words on Charlotte.
(more…)
Warm Snow
This is a picture I took out of my kitchen window. If you look closely enough near the top you will see a thermometer reading 60 deg F. If you look down, you’ll see snow on the grass. Welcome to Montana.
Random Pix
Pix are pictures. I once had a friend who liked to talk about all the pix she had, and I find the term has a toe-hold in my vocabulary now.
These are all pix from an email that was only about pix. In other words, whoever put this thing together originally just liked the way these looked. I selected just the animals. Maybe next week I’ll show you some of the other great pix that were in it.
Because a couple of these are large files, even after I tried to whittle them down, some are on the “more button” So click on “more” to see the rest.
Deviled Easter
Last week I showed you how to make tie-dye hard boiled eggs. Usually we put them through an egg slicer and serve as is, but last week I was in the mood for deviled eggs.
tie-dyed eggs
1 tsp mayonnaise per egg
1/2 tsp ranch dressing per egg
paprika to taste
Cut eggs length wise. Remove yolks. Combine yolks with mayonnaise and dressing. Return mixture to the hollows in the whites. Sprinkle with paprika. Serve. Makes however many you’re willing to make.
The Search
Jack: Bring out your dogs. *ding* Bring out your doooogs. *ding* Bring out your dogs. *ding*
Jill: Jack, what do you think you’re doing? This isn’t Monty Python and the Holey Grail, you know. It’s not like Tonic’s dead, either. He just (shrug) ran way.
Jack: Bring out your dooogs. *ding*
Jill: Would you quit that? Besides, you’re starting to get a different kind of following.
Jack: Oh, them? I asked them to come along.
Jill: What? You expect them to chip in?
Jack: You could say that.
Today’s theme is Triangle
Previously in Jack and Jill Lost and Found
Saturday photo scavenger hunt
The rules for Photohunt can be found here.
Be sure to visit the home page.
