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I have had a few samples made up using both the Cotton Sateen fabric and the so soft Fleece.
The colors are beautifully bright and the fleece really is baby Soft.
Torrie and her daughter came over and gave their snuggle test and it got lots and lots of snuggles.
Order from my website: http://kimberlysimpson.biz
Remember: Wholesale prices available. Just email me.
I have been away from sewing and quilts for way, way too long. I have pulled out this kit from my stash. I have always wanted to do a laser cut quilt kit. McKenna Ryan’s quilts are wonderful.
The first block is laid out. I feel like,somehow, I am cheating. But I will see what things I might do to make this look like my quilt.
Growing up in the western United States, I have always been aware of the beautiful Native American Art. My favorite has always been their jewelry. Driving between Grand Junction and Phoenix we would stop at what were called, Indian Trading posts and look for treasures. During the 60’s and 70’s the look of this jewelry was definitely “in”. Once I became a Mom in the 80’s I could not wear what I used to love to wear. Little hands could pull and twist off necklaces and bracelets. Even ear rings were not safe. For a period of years I lost track of whether the jewelry was in or not. Baby bottles and baby toys were as far as I could think. Fast forward twenty some years and I have begun seeing on the internet beautiful pieces of Indian Jewelry. Often times worn in multiples. Not just one necklace but several. The look, to me, is so fun and refreshing. So out comes my treasures. Whether is is to the store or out to dinner I have rediscovered what I used to so love to wear. I have also discovered some less expensive, similar jewelry that is equally fun to wear. To me it is about color and the weight of the jewelry worn. Lots of possibilities. I have even come across some amazing silver beads that can be used to make necklaces. My Mom went through a time that she was making jewelry. Her tool kit is no doubt still here someplace. A tempting thought.
A Quieter 4th of July
The three day weekend is drawing to a close. Lots of fireworks and barbecues. Last night was the big show for us. The Country Club, which is close, always puts on a big fireworks extravaganza . We go out on the patio, get comfortable chairs, cool drinks and really have front row seats to a fabulous show.
Steve and I felt the mood to be a little more somber this year. It was the first 4th without my Mom. It was just two chairs this year. And none of that delicious food Mom would have insisted we have.
I always put the dogs in the bedroom where they feel safe from all the loud noises. They don’t outright panic, but they are much calmer tucked away in their beds. The cats have never paid a lot of attention to all the happenings. I always make sure they are in the house where they too can feel safe from all the noise. Somehow, this year, we were not paying enough attention because our one cat slipped out the door before the fireworks show. Mew, the cat, was a stray/feral cat that was living in Moms garage when the girls and I moved in. For the most part I can now keep her as an indoor cat, but she does like to race out the door occasionally to have her outside adventure time. She always comes home before bed. That is when we give the two cats a special treat before everyone goes to bed.
We were all set to assume our positions on the patio, when I realized Mew was not in the house. In fact the,first loud booms had begun. Steve being far calmer than me says he is quite sure Mew will find a place to hide during the show and will come home when it is quiet again. The booms just kept get louder and louder and I think of poor Mew, totally overwhelmed, hiding someplace. So instead of sitting in our comfortable chairs, enjoying the show, we were both creeping around the yard calling for Mew. Flashlights, pajamas and bathrobes, Steve and I creep everywhere we can think of. Steve kept telling me,she would be fine, cats are smart, etc. etc.. I said, let’s keep looking. At some point I realized that our sprinkler system was going to start up. We could get drenched and Mew was not going to appear if they were on. We started to head back in the house. No, Mew, and we were a bit wet from the sprinklers. The fireworks show ended. Exhausted, I think it is time for bed. I will leave all the outside lights on so Mew will know how to get in. A few minutes before we turn out the lights in the main house, I hear Mew’s distinctive, I am here and I am not happy, meow! I could see her silhouette through the window. Angry, and a bit wet too she ran in the front door. But, she was home, safe. Today, which is officially the 4th, she has made no attempts to run past us to get outside.
I read an article on Facebook about a town that had invested in “noiseless fireworks”. What a marvelous invention. It was done so as not to cause so much stress on animals and I am sure people too, who might suffer from something like PTSD. I had not paid much attention to how loud the booms were until I was prowling around, flashlight in hand, trying to avoid the sprinklers. Or maybe it was I, knowing Mew was huddled somewhere thinking the world had gone mad.
We all love the 4th of July. Our Independence Day. The recognitions of what a wonderful and blessed country we live in. The barbecues, laughter and fellowship.
My sincere hope is that the quieter fireworks become the rage. We can sit in our lawn chairs, sipping our drinks and watch the light shows. Quieter, yes definitely would be nice.
4th of July weekend
The second holiday of the summer is now happening. When I was little that meant half the summer was officially gone. Bad news for those of us who loved this summer holiday. As my daughters were growing up it seemed the summer holiday kept getting shorter. Less time for families to plan their anticipated vacations.
Now at this phase of life, as a Grandmother, I am back to thinking it would be nice to have nice warm weather as long as possible. Not to avoid the thought of going back to school, but our bones, we feel better! The upside to getting older is we can take the time, enjoy the moments again. The downside, well, let’s just not think about our aches and pains.
The saddest thought of all, it came today, was, as I sat working on my Blog. The tv was on. I leave the volume off. It is mainly on the news – and we all can recite the news forecasts by heart. -More about mans inhumanity to man. In the 1950’s when I was still pretty young, I remember Dad telling me that after the World War II, peace would be established. That now after the horrible Nazi regime had been defeated we could relax and be partners with the rest of the world. Or at least co-exist. Well, those words,lasted only a few moments. The Korean War, Vietnam War etc etc kept happening. At first I thought these wars were just minor blips to that peaceful world Dad was talking about. I am now a Grandmother. My Granddaughter about the age I was when Dad first uttered those words to me. The world today is still battling it out over every imagined difference of opinion. I remember the Peter,Paul and Mary song, “Where have all the flowers gone,” – we know the answer in that song.
I think of all the different countries I reach on my computer. I think I have made contact with all the continents of this earth, most religions, all races. We all share the love of Art and its beauty. I am so amazed at the beauty I see, on a daily basis, from so many different cultures. If I were an international traveler I would I am sure be totally broke by now, living in a house stuffed with beautiful art from all over the planet. Now with Internet shopping we average shoppers can run that same risk. But I am older now, our family home is already stuffed. I am always tempted by what I see, but it is easier to pass things by. I even appreciate when I see all these wonderful items, just as a picture, not where I can buy it. It is like going to the museum of the good things in life and enjoying the scenery.
Watching the news on this 4th of July holiday, I seriously doubt the world that my Dad was hoping for, will be, at least in my lifetime. If only we could all be artists. Or at least see the world as an artist. As gentle and creative souls marveling at all the beauty that both nature,and that we, create. To see each culture for its beauty and its citizens as our friends. With the internet now creating a global community we should all take time to say hello to our fellow travelers from everywhere on this planet. Let us all share in our diversity and beauty. Not with bullets and hatred.
-From one very, very very small voice.
My Dad and I picked him
out of a litter at the animal shelter.
He was probably a sheepdog.
When he was a pup
he could jump off the floor
into my lap.
We named him Jumper.
And he could run, too.
He was fast.
I loved to watch him run-
he’d spot the school bus
and run to meet me,
his black and white fur rippling.
He was loving and affectionate,
not vain at all.
There was no guile in him
and he showed me an example
of social success;
be happy to see people.
But his speed I loved most,
and his love of speed
when his legs moved so fast
they blurred underneath him.
And his sympathy-
when I suffered at school
I’d come home and he’d be there
And he was a protector-
I’d been swimming in a pond
and when I climbed out of the water
a rattlesnake coiled up
there on the bank.
Turning to retreat fast
back into the water
I saw a blur leaping
like some kind of spirit
landing on the sand
between me and the snake.
It was Jumper
attacking and killing
and getting bit.
It’s no wonder some philosopher said,
“The domestication of the dog
is the greatest feat
of the human race.”
I held my dog in my arms
while Mom drove us to the vet,
and in a few days he was back running-
running fast, fast across the field,
meeting me when I got home
from being taught civilization in school.
I felt him- his nose and face in my hand,
his tongue licking me.
“An Affair in the Valley” Amazon.com
Getting past Difficult Times:
A different evening. The air is cooler tonight. The sun has disappeared behind the house. I can sit in my favorite chair on the patio. I hear all sorts of bird voices. They are having lots of lively conversations. My sweet dogs Ozzie and Heidi are sitting near me just relaxing at the end of the day too.
I just read an article about a lady who was in her 40’s, without children, a successful career winding down, feeling how invisible she was becoming. We are always in a process of change. I am 66 and in my 40’s I was chasing after kids, helping my parents, trying to keep my business going. Exhausted most of the time. I don’t know if I thought of myself as visible or invisible. I was a single Mom so I did not have a husband to boost my visibility. Being a Mom to teenagers can be a thankless job. Most of the time you feel totally at odds with your kids. Thinking, “God, I have to be the adult in the room.” I may feel the urge to throw a tantrum. But a tantrum from a middle age Mom is not the least bit attractive nor effective. And like the writer of the invisible story, we do have our ego pride that wants to be maintained. But children grow up and create their own lives. Even with a husband or partner the relationship over time changes with the cycles in life.
I am always quoting my Mom. She lived to be 96 and always had advise for any situation. When I was going through my divorce and it all seemed so dark and gloomy. The world that I had known was ending. In divorces you are not given that grieving space as you would if it were a death. I always felt I had to present a positive face. As if I knew what I was doing and where I was going. Of course I did not have the slightest idea how I was going to get from one day to the next. But smile, I could do that. I even read an article that said if you are unhappy, simply start smiling. Your body does not know the difference and pretty soon you will be feeling happier. I decided to not be overly cerebral, so this method helped. Mom at this time had just lost her husband of over 50 years, my Dad. I was so absorbed in my misery I am sure I did not appreciate what she was going through. But being true to form,she realized we were becoming a couple a grumpy old ladies with very sour dispositions. I am sure she realized that I, her daughter would never find that nice companion in this state.
Mom’s philosophy was always looking for signs that are around you. She felt certain if you are trying to understand what is happening and how to go forward,we would be given signs. We just had to be open to seeing them. She was also always reading books. Scads and scads of books. Serendipity happened that at this time she was reading about how using your hands, as in crafts was a great stress reliever. We also saw a notice in our Church newspaper that told they were wanting to start a Prayer Quilt Ministry. Off we went to their first meeting. I had sold my sewing machine so how I was going to make anything? That did not dampen our enthusiasm. Mom was convinced that by using our hands to make something lovely it would help both of us out of our doldrums.
I am not sure if it was actually the making of the quilts, or the absolutely beautiful people we met, but magic began to happen. Mom had other friends who were becoming widows and feeling very alone. A close friend, Joe Prinster, came to visit Mom and brought a truly amazing woman came with her, a Sister Joan Eble. She was a Catholic sister. Maybe 15 years younger than Mom and Joe. Mom and I thought of ourselves as marginal Episcopalians. They had nuns too. But Sister Joan was one of those signs that Mom thought came into our lives to give us guidance. She and my Mom immediately bonded for the rest of their lives and she gave us the light to see out of our own darkness.
Her solution was simple. She gave us a challenge, if we made quilts she had lots and lots of people who would love to receive them. The prayers would give the quilts special importance for people who needed healing and comfort. She had lots of people who would be helped by receiving the love and prayers that the quilts represented. Mom and I jumped into quilting with real fervor. I got a sewing machine and Mom did the hand sewing. Sister Joan was quite an artist too. She designed a special label that we would put on the quilt. It showed an angel holding a quilt. A lady downtown that had a sewing machine store volunteered to digitalize the drawing and make up the labels. They were adorable. What particular faith was of no concern to Sister Joan either. She worked in all the hospitals, the VA hospital and nursing homes and care facilities.
Mom also had a fearless quality about her. She always had spoken in front of groups. She never hesitated to express her opinions. -Even when she was expressing an opinion that was not accepted by the group she was talking with. She was always willing to stand up and tell it like she saw it. This made her the perfect candidate to be our public relations person. She would go in to any Church, or group and show our quilt and tell how it represented out collective love and goodwill and prayers for the recipient of the quilt. The quilt did not come from us, but from all the loving people who would tie ties in the quilt and pray for healing. We went to most of the Churches in Grand Junction. No one ever asked us about what Church we attended. Mom would stress that the quilt was about prayers and healing.
So I feel that it is by stepping out of our own personal sorrow and helping someone else in their struggle do we begin to heal and go forward. After we would hear the stories of the people who were being given the quilts, we never could spend much time on our complaints. The positive energy from all the groups of people we went to gave us such a feeling of love. A whole group of Mom’s friends got involved and we all saw more smiles and enthusiasm.
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