from the mixed-up files of a middle-aged mind

At the request of Lianne --another one of my good friends I've never met--here are a few pics of some of my favorite quilts. People ask me when I find time to quilt. The answer is I don't. It's just that quilting is as good a diversion from my real responsibilities such as housework, dishes and the laundry as is blogging. The other question I get is "Why?" Aside from "Why not?," I would have to say that the reason I love to quilt is because it is the only thing I do in a day that does not get immediately undone. Such is the nature of motherhood. Seriously. If it weren't for this little hobby of mine I'd be certifiable by now. preservation: my friend and I designed this a few years ago when everyone else was still canning bugs choir of angels: this little Christmas quilt is still hanging up--even though it's the end of July underground railroad: a gift to my grandmother on her 88th birthday. she loved it, but she never used it--convinced the t...

Part I ...now let me tell you why you should be writing down yours . Several years ago Pioneer Day (Utah holiday) fell on Sunday. For Relief Society (women's auxiliary meeting) we gathered in a circle around a fake campfire and listened to various women tell stories of the pioneer ancestors. Quaint, I thought. But I like a good story as well as anyone, so I tried to listen attentively. Except it was so hot I started to have a difficult time staying awake. All of a sudden I was startled from my reverie when one of the stories started to sound very familiar. "What a minute," I thought, as one woman read about Henry Chariton Jacobs being born on the banks of the Chariton River. "That's my pioneer story." Suddenly I couldn't wait for the meeting to end. "How does she know this story I had heard so many times from my grandfather?" I wondered of Charlotte Loveless, whom I had met a few times but didn't know well at all. After the meeting was ove...

Because I've spent enought time recently dwelling on the dark side, I give you this: Things by which I am amused... 1). The End's "Brigham Blocks" weekend. 2). This 3). What? "People don't take this costume seriously." 4). A fitness magazine, paid for by my hard-earned insurance-premium-paying money, which concludes all the educational articles regarding HEALTH with a recipe for Raspberry Swirl Squares containing the following ingredients: 3 Tbsp. fat-free tub margarine and 2 cups frozen fat-free or light whipped topping, thawed. (Methinks they need a more enlightened editor. Perhaps Carina ?) 5). Little son at breakfast: "Mom, I want you to make this again sometime when no one else eats so I can eat it ALL!" Me: "You like the farm fresh eggs?" Little son: "Fresh off a chicken butt?" Don't laugh. It only encourages him.

Knock. Knock. Standing at the door is my neighbor, her 10-year-old daughter, and my other friend's 10-year-old daughter. Pregnant pause (of the early second trimester variety). My neighbor : "Um. We just thought you might want to know that L~ hurt herself shaving and she'd hiding from you. But she's hurt and we thought you should know." (Read: You must be a real Mommie Dearest that your daughter is hurt but she feels she must hide from you while she bleeds to death.) Me : "Uh. Thanks." Pregnant pause (this time of the 42-week variety). Me again as it starts to sink in : "Um. Shaving? Did you say L~ was shaving?" My neighbor : "Well, yes. Apparently she's been shaving for some time now." Me : "OK. Thanks. I'll go see if I can find her." (Read: Thanks for being the one to break it to me that my barely 11-year-old daughter has been shaving her legs behind my back. Are you also going to knock on my door someday and tel...

So my oldest son leaves in the morning for Havasupai . Already I have listened to him rattle off his itinerary and narrate his menu for the next three days at least ten times. It's not that I'm not interested. It's just that I got it all the first time. I can't really blame him. His need to play it--or anything else he's preparing for or worrying about--over and over again in his head and to recite it over and over again to me is all my fault. As much as I have lived my life trying to run from the OCD (or, as my mother calls it, OCDC) that flows through my genes, I think it may be time to concede. It is what it is. I can thank my maternal grandmother. We used to joke that she'd wash the glass you were drinking out of and have it put away before you took your last swallow. We were only partly kidding. This woman--whom I love dearly--kept an immaculate house. In fact she even kept an immaculate garage and shed to go along with it. I still wonder what the carpet cl...

It seems a bit audacious to post a recipe when you all have this and this to browse through for your culinary pleasures. But here it is... Sour Cream Lemon Pie 9-inch baked pie shell or cookie crust (I usually do a gingersnap or 1/2 graham cracker 1/2 gingersnap crust) 1 c. milk 1 c. sugar 3 Tbsp. cornstarch 3 egg yolks, slightly beaten 1/4-1/3 c. freshly squeezed lemon juice 1 Tbsp. freshly grated lemon peel 1/4 c. butter, cut up 1 c. sour cream Stir together sugar and cornstarch. Stir in milk. Add egg yolks, lemon juice and lemon peel. Whisk together till smooth. Slowly bring just to a boil over just under medium heat, stirring constantly. Remove from heat. Stir in butter till melted. Cool to room temperature, then stir in sour cream. Pour into pie shell and refrigerate for 4 to 6 hours. Top with fresh whipped cream and serve. (I would give credit where credit is due, but this is combination of several recipes. I got my start from the version in the "A Taste of Oregon" c...

I'd like you to meet my friend Kate . I want to honor her memory. But I'm afraid my words won't do her justice. It's always difficult to tell a story that doesn't belong to you. But sometimes you just have to try. I remember-- The day I first really met her. She had just turned twelve. She wasn't sure what she wanted me to call her. Katharine, Katie, Kate. "I'll call her Kate," I thought to myself. She seemed quiet and unsure of herself. I always thought she was so beautiful and kind. Her smile warmed your heart. A few years later I got to know and love her mother like a sister. And I would hear bits and painful pieces of Kate's story, which parts are not mine to tell. I will just say she struggled and suffered in ways I can't imagine. Except that because I sensed part of her pain was because she didn't feel worthy of the love that surrounded her, I felt like I understood somewhat. My one wish for Kate was the same wish I have for her m...

(Saturday, June 24, 2006) I spent several hours today on what is frankly a death watch for my dear friend J~, so her daughter P~ could get away for a spell. I first met them both over 20 years ago when P~ was in the U of U hospital with a horrible bed sore. She has been wheelchair bound since her senior year in high school, when a single moment of idiocy on the part of the driver of the car she was in--yes, we should all be MADD--changed her life and that of her family forever. P~ recovered from that and many other bedsores and has actually been in relatively good health, when you consider the average life expectancy for a paraplegic is usually diminished. Her mother, J~ has been caring for her for some 25 years. Only somewhere along the way the lines became blurred between who was caring for whom. J~ is such a tiny woman. But it's true what they say about great things coming in small packages. She loves you with her whole heart and I've never heard her say an unkind word about...

Dear Jolly Porter (whom I've never met), Que je suis jalouse! I long to return to France, and most especially to see Paris. I was so close...just a mission boundary away. But I beg to differ about one thing. I found the French eventually warmed up to Americans, as long as the Americans didn't speak French like a Spanish cow. But that was so long ago...and times have changed. Loved the beautiful photos. I could almost taste the baguettes, the créme fraîche and the smoke-filled rooms. The art and the architecture are so fabulous! So, as a display of my gratitude, I am going to return the favor. When I return from Finland (in September) I will post the photos just for you. I can't promise a witty travelogue; so the photos will have to do. I hope they'll be worth the wait! Ametiés, Compulsive Writer

One of the desires of my heart is to write a book. I want to share what extraordinary beauty I see in the everyday lives of the most amazing of women. They may live next door. Around the corner. Across town. Or through the back fence. You might pass by them in the grocery store and you may or may not even notice them. But to me they are remarkable. The book will likely never happen. But random excerpts will be posted on my blog from time to time to pay tribute to some of these my sisters who make my world a better place. M is for Courage I first met her probably a decade ago. She had moved into a home she owned in the neighborhood and she invited us--including our four children to Sunday dinner. I have wonderful friends, but only a few are brave enough to request the invasion of my entire family. But M~ did so warmly. And on more than one occasion. Certain moments of your life are so horrible they etch themselves into your memory for eternity. February 14. I am frantically baking and f...

May I recommend--for your camping pleasure--the lovely Payson Lakes campground area? I hadn't been there for years. So I forgot how beautiful it is. Payson Lakes Campground, Group Site B Yesterday (and the entire night and day before) it stormed. My FIL, preparing to turn water into fire And the storms continued after I arrived last night. My niece--also my hero--who took her two little girls camping in the rain all by herself My niece's daughter, in proper rainstorm attire. Note my child in the background wearing swim trunks and bare feet I lay awake all night in the cozy truck bed counting most of the night. One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three, one thousand four, one thousand five... I have been painfully afraid of thunderstorms since I was a child. We rarely had them in Oregon, but every summer I would travel to the family ranch in Randolph, Utah during branding season, which seemed unmercifully to correspond with summer thunderstorm season. And I was sc...

Serendipity! Trying all day to find the right words to thank Georgia... For her lovely visit. (After all, she wrote a poem .) For teaching me at dusk to enjoy the honeysuckers by my doorway. For sharing a part of her story with me. For being a beautiful person. For a wonderful book with a beautiful message. (Which, unbeknownst to her, connected me to my great great grandmother and reminded me to be a better person.) For being a friend before we ever met. For the anticipation of a future exchange--honeysuckle for scented geranium. Mmmmmmmmm. But everything I write sounds schmaltzy. Spontaneously, I drop by Reams--I rarely shop at Reams--to pick up a couple of things. At the checkout counter, I recognize the song softly playing over the loudspeaker: " Georgia on my mind ." Thanks Geo.

School's out for the summer! And that makes me happy because I love... Getting to see more of my husband. He used to work three nights a week and Saturdays during the school year in order to teach third grade. Those days ended when he got his master's degree, but he still spends long hours at the school and we hardly even see each other at all during the month of May. In fact, I found it serendipitous last Thursday when I stopped by Barnes and Noble after my quilt class to pick up thank-you's for my kids' teachers and saw him walking into Office Max for some last minute supplies for his annual Grandview slide show. It became a spontaneous 15-minute date-night at Office Max. Already by Friday night I could feel the weight he carries on his shoulders lift a little, for a couple of short months anyway. The hum of bees swarming my pillars of honeysuckle. Not having to get anyone out of bed and ready for school in the mornings. The crack of a bat in the ball park. I'm go...

My 7 Sevens List ~7 things I want to do before I die (+1) ride a harley balance my checkbook learn to play the cello finish all my quilting projects be at peace with myself finish cleaning my house learn to scat see something fabulous on Broadway ~7 things I cannot do curl my tongue wear socks be at peace with myself a four-minute mile resist wantonly posting links to Lazy Sunday bring myself to dust grow up ~7 things that attracted me to my spouse his offering of home-grown beets how he loved to dance with the wallflowers his sense of humor his generosity his "best buns in 501s" award his heart his ability to notice and appreciate the simple things ~7 things I say often "wash your hands" "so sue me" "be part of the solution, not part of the problem" "bye, luv ya" "who made you King of the World?" "no worries" "take care" ~7 books I love (+1) Riddle-Master Tuesday Next novels Anna Karinina Which I read...

This just in...a woman apparently died while on a nighttime flight and none of the other passengers--INCLUDING HER HUSBAND!--or the flight crew realized she was dead till the landing. This is one of my greatest fears. I could fall off the face of the planet and no one would know. Well, except maybe for my always starving teenager. What's on Hillary's iPod? Who wants to know? The woman obviously had no taste--in fashion, in hair design (OK, so I really shouldn't talk...), nor in men. So why would we be remotely interested in what kind of music she likes? If we just ignore her, will she please go away? Even the bouncers looked scared? Maybe they should have a disclaimer at the beginning of her concerts...? If we just ignore her, will she please go away? From my home state: A panel recently ruled that Oregon lawmakers and their staff should not be legislating while drunk. Well OK, so the fact that they actually might be says a lot. But the fact that an independent panel h...

My daughter, who's only 10, has been boy crazy for quite some time now. It is truly THE BANE of my existence. And I am scared silly about getting through the next 10 years. (Already I have often contemplated the wisdom of the Catholic concept of the convent...) Last Christmas Suze (not her real name, but short for Suzie Q) wanted to get a present for this boy she has loved for the entire school year. I didn't encourage her, but I thought something like a candy bar might be appropriate. One night, while I was away, she went to the mall under someone else's supervision (or lack thereof) and spent $30 on a $60 hoodie for her one true love. Can you say "Wildly inappropriate?" I had been home for a couple of hours before my husband casually mentioned something about it (probably anticipating, correctly, the wrath it would incur). It was late so I went in and confiscated the bag with the hoodie--making sure, of course, that she still had the receipt--and told her we...

Noon. Friday. Looking forward to it . ...and I'm taking the poor reviews as a good sign.

Congratulations to my sister , whom I've never met. She nailed the contest on both counts. And I love it that she made a trip to TJs to see the divine bag in person. Of course I didn't buy it. But I did go up and ask the sales clerk if she was sure there wasn't some mistake. After all, it was TJ Maxx. I also put it on hold for all of one hour so I could somehow almost possess it...even for a short time. And I'll always have pictures.

RE: This emotionally charged holiday--Mother's Day I have this to say: ~Inasmuch as nine o'clock church has killed any futile hopes of breakfast in bed (which has occurred on maybe two occasions in the past 17 years), I am going to stay up very late tonight (read: early tomorrow morning) to clean my disaster of a kitchen and pre mix a big batch of crepe batter. I vow to selflessly--and, most sincerely with no strings attached--prepare and serve crepes for breakfast tomorrow morning. ~Although I am generally fairly successful on most Mother's days at 1). having low expectations in order NOT to be disappointed 2). refusing to pick up and bear any guilt that may--intentionally or otherwise--be laid at my feet and 3). most especially trying NOT to lay a burden of guilt on my own dear children...it's pretty much a crap shoot on any given year how it will go. I have therefor taken a preemptive strike and had my meltdown TODAY! It's over. Whew! Tomorrow is just another da...

And speaking of all things wonderfully TJ ... Two Questions: 1). How much is this celestial bag? 2). Did I buy it? Post your guesses to both questions and tune in next time for the Price is Right!