Category Archives: House quilts

Warranty and Royalty

When the water heater died yesterday, we assumed we were probably three months past warranty. Or, you know, two weeks. Turns out it was a 12-year warranty! We saved a bundle.

I’ve picked up needle and thread again. It means no Danish or French murder mysteries for a while (or to be honest, Scottish). It also means cursing at the fifteenth attempt to thread a needle.

Note to self: thread a dozen needles in the bright afternoon sun. Have them ready to go. Note to self: not one but two friends gave you needle threaders for Christmas. Use them!

And regarding the upstairs furnace? Because the first floor is heated, it turns out we don’t really need the attic one on at night. Revelation.

I’ll end with a question: from time to time do you fall in love with a stranger? And if so who? The server at the coffee shop or your mailman or somebody on TV?

For me, last night it was the guest on The Daily Show talking about the organization he and another former inmate formed to help fire-trained former felons segue into firefighting as a profession. He had the best smile, such beautiful gestures, and the brightest spirit.

You probably love him a little now too.

Watching my husband rally in his broad competence to install a new water heater has me falling a little back in love with him too.

4:14 December 4, 2024

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Dozed off just now. When I woke I thought I still had to go to the doctor’s. But no. That was this morning.

Finishing a village moon while watching SAY NOTHING, which is a true story about the troubles in Ireland. I was there at that time. 1977. One woman in our academic program went to Belfast with her Irish boyfriend and we all thought she was nuts. Safety was not guaranteed.

Just by chance, I have an Irish lamb stew in the oven. It smells amazing.

It cracks me up how much Finn goes for my new electric blanket!

PS the South Koreans have set an admirable example for how to respond when an unpopular president imposes martial law. Swiftly. Effectively. Soldiers were blocking the Assembly and members climbed the walls to get inside and cast their votes, votes that declared the imposition of martial law unconstitutional. Citizens protested in big numbers.

A template for here? I wish. Our legislature cannot be relied upon to act to preserve democratic institutions, for one thing. For another, SCOTUS has given DJT ridiculously broad immunity. It’s easy to imagine Dumpkopf declaring that the imposition of martial law is part of his presidential duties. Et voila! Untouchable.

The other thing I worry about is the freed militias. If Captain Dickhead pardons the J6 insurrectionists as he has promised (reason enough to spare me the hand-wringing about Hunter’s pardon BTW), won’t they readily do trump’s bidding even if say, the military refused?

Enough. In spite of so many reasons to find differences unfavorable to the US, I am inspired by the South Koreans.

The other good news? Bluesky covered the rolling crisis practically in real time — just like Twitter would’ve done back in the day.

Tomorrow: coffee in town with a friend and pinwheel cookies.

Blues from Georgia

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A thread gift from Deb Lacativa. Look how well the colors go with the quilt on the table!

I’m using a crescent of her hand-dyed linen too.

There are many garments here: a plaid shirt, a polyester blouse, silk skirt, jersey skirt. Also a piece of the sheet Saskia mailed me many moons ago.

Background is a not very successful indigo dunk from August which I am handling by covering up a lot of the white.

Tonight after dinner.

ME: I want to watch something light.

(These days the series Shrinking is perfect. Humorous drama. Characters you care about).

I barely made it through The Long Shadow (about a botched investigation into a British serial killer in the 70’s) and still trying to get through Escape from Donnemara (about a prison break facilitated by the yucky character played by Patricia Arquette). Both based on fact.

KEN: well, I’m not watching a rom-com.

So guess what? We’re watching the new Alien movie.

Opening the curtain

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I love the pattern of the backing fabric coming through.

The indigo white-flecked fabric is a piece of katazome that I made at a workshop back in August. Did you really cut it? I think it was worth it — the speckled repeat with the cloth weaving is lively.

It’s been ages since I’ve been in a rhythm of sewing every day. I hope it continues. Next up: layering for the moon. Last up: fix crooked seam at bottom.

Insomnia post

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The top of this quilt ended too abruptly so I laid out some additional edging. I love that vintage pink floral silk! CapeCod Shibori is the source for the indigo sky, a polyester blouse from the 80’s (I’m guessing) for the grey foreground. Other garments appear as well. There’s batting and backing behind the central rectangle so I’m gonna have to figure out how to even up the layers.

Paris Collage Club prompt flowers with photo of quilt

The squirrel got back in. Two guys came back and found the entry point and you know what? It surprised me. I don’t know what it says about my state of mind but I fully expected them to be baffled and to shrug and walk away, problem unsolved.

The garden needs dirt. Everywhere. Probably because we got so much rain and so little snow last season.

I started PT for my hip today and have my fourth acupuncture appointment on Friday. Goals? To be able to squat and weed the garden and get in and out of the car without wincing. Ditto: up and off the couch.

Tomorrow, SCOTUS will hear the presidential immunity arguments. You know the case. The one they could have heard back in December when Jack Smith appealed directly. The one they could have scheduled a month or more ago. The frivolous argument by trump doesn’t need to have merit because he’s getting what he needs through delay. There simply is no good faith interpretation of the Court’s actions. There just isn’t. It’s sickening.

Today the Court heard discussions of how many organs a woman might have to lose before an ER doctor can provide her health care under Idaho law.

And I wonder why I’m depressed.