Quilting for a Cause

A close friend was diagnosed with cancer in December and a quilt for her is our latest project. Anna and I stole a pillow from her bedroom and picked out the colors. At the store I was in awe of Anna as she told the clerk we were designing a quilt and then figured out how much material we needed. At that point we were just going to do a larger flying geese pattern than the one we did in October. The clerk was quite dubious when Anna said we were designing our own, but so far it's worked out.

A few Tuesdays ago Caprice joined us with her quilting books and wonderful design ideas. We looked through her books and decided on the pattern - all I knew was I wanted to use flying geese and I wanted to incoporate pinwheels. We quilted all day long - it's pretty amazing what you can do with two people at sewing machines and one at the ironing board. Unfortunately the quilt has sat for the last two weeks - I've been busy at 817 and the flu has been going around town... need I say more?

But here's the pattern - I'm thinking it's beautiful - perfect for a beautiful woman.

817: Our New Project

Our latest project is the house next door, or as we like to call it - 817. It was home to Eleanor and Charlotte until October and we purchased it the end of December. The house was built by Eleanor's father and she lived in it for 84 years until she died on June 23. She'd had a lot of dizzy spells and falls last winter but when she went to the hospital in early May we all thought she'd be back home before too long. After all, she'd been teaching piano lessons up until her last fall... and I guess I just really didn't want to believe she wouldn't be back home.

Charlotte was Eleanor's roommate (she's the one pictured)- they'd shared living quarters since the early 1980's. Before that Eleanor's roommate was Charlotte's sister Elizabeth - but when Elizabeth became sick with breast cancer Charlotte moved here from Michigan to help take care of Elizabeth and after Elizabeth died, she stayed on.

The two were a wonderful pair - both artistic naturalists with excellent minds and musical talents. They were night owls. Before Dave and I moved our bedroom to the attic I would "check" on Eleanor and Charlotte as I was getting ready for bed. I'd look out our bedroom window down into their kitchen window and usually see them at the table -having a late supper or cup of coffee. Reassured they were all right, I'd go to sleep. Later, though, after the girls took over that bedroom I felt more like a spy than a psuedo caretaker so I quit looking out the window. After all, they were 86 and 91 - they certainly seemed to be getting a long better than some of the younger people I knew.

After Eleanor went to the hospital we got to know Charlotte better. She often stopped by for coffee in the late morning or early afternoon. At times she spontaneously joined us for supper out on the patio - but that wasn't all that often since we're big meateaters and she's a vegetarian. She was always gracious and ate anything we could offer - whether it was corn on the cob or potatoes and carrots. She taught me to make a fantastic bread this summer and shared her knowledge of gardening.

When Eleanor died her house was left to her three nephews and since they would have had to totally update the house in order to rent it to Charlotte, they decided to sell it. Charlotte was wonderfully upbeat during this whole time. She spent her evenings going through books and newspaper articles, clothes, dishes, etc... Lucy and I spent afternoons with her going through books and putting them in piles: one for donation, one for Eleanor's family to look through and one to take with her when she moved. She found herself a downtown apartment that would take Erno, her cat. Almost everybody wanted her to move to an assisted living place but she told me she didn't want to live with all those old people. (Keep in mind Charlotte will be 92 on March 9.) So by mid-September Charlotte moved into the Opera House - how fitting as she is a pianist, a celloist and singer. The train tracks are right beside the building and when a train blows its whistle she hurries to the piano and presses keys until she finds the same tune. The kids and I have visited her a few times but it just isn't as easy as walking acorss the yard - now I feel as though I need to make an appointment and I'm not very good at that kind of planning.

When we heard the house was going to be for sale we talked with Bob, one of Eleanor's nephews and told him we might be interested in it. Our plan is to use the upstairs for "guest quarters" - it'll have two bedrooms and a renovated bathroom with a shower. By March Dave will be all moved in with his office occupying the dining room and another space in one of the main floor bedrooms. The dining room will have a big table that can be used for eating and projects - but will probably mostly be used by by Anna and me for weeekend quilting projects. I was going to have the other main floor bedroom be for my quilting things but have since decided against it. So it'll probably be a sitting area. The kitchen will be, well, a kitchen and for now, the basement will remain unfinished - who knows what it'll end up being. If you scoll down you can see pics of the house - before, during and after.

817 Main Floor

The main floor of 817 consists of a back porch, kitchen, dining room, living room, two bedrooms and a very pink bathroom. Here are some before and during pics:
This bedroom will be some office space - it's nice and bright with windows on two walls. There's also a nice size closet. After the flood Charlotte used this as her work space and the walls were entirely covered with ideas for sketches and her nature artwork. In both this and the next room we did a lot of scraping, mudding, and texturing - just look at the ceiling for an example of what a lot of the walls looked like. There's a pic of me working on the floors - from the dust on the camera lens don't you think it's a good idea I have a mask on? I did!

This is the room that I was planning on using as my quilting room, but will now be a sitting room. At one point it held a piano and Eleanor taught piano lessons in it - later, she used it as a bedroom. We moved the chandalier in here out to the living room. There wasn't an overhead light out there so we had one wired up and this will match the dining room light. We also took out all the electric heaters as we had central air put in. At one point, probably in the 1950's, the house served as a model home for electric heat. Unfortunately, these old heaters were slowly going out - one section at a time. The heaters in these back bedrooms had apparently gone out and were then replaced by newer versions of baseboard electric. You can see the old electric ones in the pics from the living room (below).

Here's the living room. As dining room and living room were redone only about five years ago, mostly all we're doing here is painting and redoing the hardwood floors. In the pic of Dave doing the floors you can see a little of the dining room and the living room. What do you think of the color? You'd best be liking it because it's all over the main floor!


I don't have a good picture of the kitchen prior to it being painted the green color - but it, just like the living room and dining room, had been done about five years ago. In this pic you can see the back entryway - it (as well as the kitchen) was sort of a butter yellow color. We found original hardwood floor underneath two layers of linoleum and a layer of plywood so we tore it up last weekend and will get it sanded down sometime next week.


As you can see it was a family affair - the kids helped pull out more than 2,000 staples.


Sophie also helped do some more scraping in the pantry area - don't worry she only did it for about five minutes before calling it quits. Also - notice the mask and the safety eyewear!

Here's the pink bathroom. As we've spent A LOT of money on gutting and renovating the upstairs bath, this one will stay pink for awhile. Michelle came and helped me do some "wallpapering" of sorts - it's done with brown craft paper all crinkled up and then pasted to the wall - but I'm not really happy with it so we stopped. I've decided I'll finish the papering but then leave the staining and/or painting of it until Mom comes home from Arizona and can help me with colors.

There you go - that's it for the main floor of 817. I'll get pictures from the upstairs posted sometime next week.

Dinner with Henry and Kristen

Last night we headed 30 minutes northwest of town to have dinner with Henry and Kristen and their two children, Melanie and Michael. They are friends who used to live only two blocks away - until they decided to build their dream house on a hill surrounded by about the only trees in North Dakota. And what a dream house it is - I like the way Kristen describes it as a "a four square with a twist" because that's really what it is. It has some of great features of the classic four square house we all love but enough of a twist to make it truly modern and unique and beautiful. I love that Henry designed a special shelf about 4 feet long just for all of Kristen's many cookbooks (look behind Lucy and you can see part of the bookshelf) and I love how proud Kristen is of Henry and his heating system (sorry, I was too busy eating and talking to get pics of the heating system!). It was a fabulous night - great food, great playmates for the kids, great conversation, and great people.

Women multitaskers...

People often say that women are better multitaskers than men. I disagree - at least in my case - and this article highlights some research in the area.

To highlight my lack of multitasking ability, take this afternoon's lunch as a perfect example: Dave and I met at one of those sportsbar places with televisions everywhere you turn. I couldn't focus - not at all. I'd start to say something and a screen would flash a new headline and I'd read about the man who poisoned his wife of 14 years and I'd totally lose my train of thought. Within my line of vision there were six televisions - all playing something different. Total overload. It got bad enough that Dave and I switched spots so I could only see two televisions - and then only if I turned my head. But when we switched, he didn't seem to notice the televisions at all - nor did I find him gazing at the tv instead of my brown eyes. OK, you're right. For those of you who personally know Dave you realize he probably wasn't actually gazing into my eyes, but he truly was focused on our conversation.

Another example was last night as I was cooking supper, talking on the phone, and telling the girls to hurry with their snack and get ready for ballet. At one point my back was to the stove and I turned around to see the milk, water, and butter mixture for the mashed potatoes had boiled over and was spreading onto the next burner as well as the counter. I hung up on Steph with an "OMG, you won't believe the mess I've got here," grabbed papertowel, turned off the burner and started mopping up the mess. Then I did the smartest thing I think I possibly could have at the time - I turned off all the burners and left everything until John and I got back from dropping off the girls. This was hard to do - after all I'm the one who's always five minutes late because I just try to do one more thing before I get out the door. But I did it. And when we got home the phone didn't ring and John hung out with Dave while I finished up. Our supper was still ready when the girls got home from ballet and John got home from hockey - and the kitchen was clean.

But still, an example of how I can only focus on one thing at a time. So, the next time we're at lunch and you notice me gazing off into space and making no sense in my conversation, just offer to switch places with me. We'll all have a better lunch!

Kids and energy

Raising children takes energy - so very much of it. Even at the ages of our kids(10,8,6) I still find myself so tired by the end of each day - this was something I thought would pass as they got older and I wasn't as "hands-on" like you are when they're babies or toddlers. But now the energy seems to be emotional - it's a constant guessing game about how they'll react to any given situation. The way I feel now reminds me of dealing with three male egos on a construction job three years ago. At that time I complained to Dave, "You, I can handle. But these other three guys - all with their egos that need to be stroked and it's just too much." Since then I've found two other contractors who are wonderful to work with and don't need a constant ego boost. But, I can't change out our kids, nor would I actually want to.

But I guess I need to mellow out and not take life so seriously. For example, last night I was exhausted and Dave was out of town. The kids were seriously messing around at the dinner table so after numerous warnings, I put them in bed at 6:30. Their homework didn't get done and no reading got done. This morning Sophie woke me up and told me Lucy was downstairs crying because she didn't think she could get her spelling homework done before school started. I went down and cuddled with Lucy until she wasn't so sad and assured her she'd get her spelling done. By this time it was 7:24 and first bell rings at 8:05 - important information to remember. Sophie was starting to make muffins - since she was just starting and they take 14-16 minutes to bake I told her it was too late for muffins. She was then in tears and had a dancing fit, yelling about how whenever she tries to help I don't appreciate it, and ran into the other room. I ignored her for about five minutes and then called her in to eat - she was then fine. As we're eating John started crying about something - I think it was that he forgot what he was going to say when one of the girls interrupted him. I was getting pretty irritated by now - but instead of yelling I said, "OK, now we're three for three with all of you crying. Should I cry now?" And I pretended to cry... getting a big laugh out of everyone. There weren't any more tears, Lucy got her homework done, a book got read and the kids got to school on time. Not bad for a Thursday morning.

I've had all day to think about our morning and congratulate myself on how well it ended up being - no yelling on my part at all. But, the cycle starts again in 45 mintues when I pick them up from school. How will they be this afternoon? I never know until I see them on the playground... oh, the energy it takes.

Trying to stay warm...

I've got a new favorite spot in our house. It's a place to go when I'm chilled or just need a quick warm up. It's not a fireplace or the front of the open stove after taking something out of the oven. It involves a blanket and a cozy chair and a heat source and reminds me of Dad laying on top of the living room radiator at our old house, trying to get warm. Have you guessed the spot yet?

No, I didn't think you would; after all it's taken me almost three years to find it. My spot, as I like to think of it, is beside the small electric radiator in the family room. I move the rocker chair out from the wall and put my feet on the brick wall - about two feet above the radiator. Then I cover up with a blanket and a cup of coffee or tea and feel the heat reach my feet, then my calves and finally my entire body. It's perfect for reading, watching TV or even typing on the laptop - as I'm doing now. It's not so good for carrying on a conversation however. In that case it's rather like talking to a brick wall. Ha!

What's your favorite warm-up place?

Who am I?

I'm in a reflective mood and trying to figure out all the hats I wear. I feel like it's all one gigantic juggling act and I really never was any good at juggling. So I'll do what I do best - make a list. Here goes:

mom to Sophie, Lucy and John, wife to Dave, daughter, daughter-in-law, granddaughter, sister, sister-in-law, friend, outreach coordinator for the Red River Valley Writing Project (RRVWP), conference organizer, book club organizer, teacher study group organizer, consultant for RRVWP, memo writer, volunteer reader at elementary school, volunteer writing workshop teacher in Sophie's class, wanna-be writer, author of four manuscripts - all only 1/3 done, newly appointed co-chair of Children's Writer's Conference, reader, quilter, friend, cooker of meals that no one in this household likes, painter (of walls, not canvases), general contractor of the house next door - by default, online shopper, planner, bathroom scrubber, sweeper, movie watcher, cross country skier, Curves member, always wanting to lose weight woman, blabbermouth, crier, yeller, classical music lover, organizer, baker, grocery shopper, magazine reader, three blankets at night woman, problem solver, muller, communicator, bread lover, phone talker, sleep lover, kid driver, swimmer, basketball player, party planner, coffee drinker, pear pie eater, listener, talker.

There you go - what's your list look like?

Stress Buster

What do you do when you're stressed out? I organize, and then I organize some more. A friend of mine is sick, we bought the house next door and are renovating it, the girls have their performances in Cinderella tonight and tomorrow and Lucy's birthday was yesterday so Sunday we'll have a housefull of eight-year-old girls.

So I spent one day this week forgetting about all that and organizing our old Christmas cards. In many ways I'm lucky - Dave and I have been married for 16 1/2 years but I only have Christmas cards from 1997 and up (all the others were in the basement during the 1997 flood). I'm also lucky because I'd already put a few years worth of pictures in albums; I think that was right before John was born - six years ago.

This year I decided to follow the footsteps of Roxy and put them in a photograph box sorted alphabetically by the last name of the family. Each year from here on out the cards can get placed with the others of each family - and this way it's easier to see just how much the kids of our friends have grown and changed over the years.

Sophie was home sick from school so she took the last photo album I had and got cards from 2001 in it while I started sorting the cards by family. It took most of the day (with quite a few breaks) for us to finish but it was a nice way to reminisce. And now she has a wonderful sense of all the people we get cards from and their history/relationship to us.

Now (sigh) it's on to all the digital pictures stored on our two computers and a flashdrive. That one might not be quite so much fun. But I've got a stack of CDs and a CD holder just waiting for me to start working and that's something I can work on while I'm at Theresa's.

Looking for good children's books? Try here...

One of the most important items on Sophie's Christmas list was a "really, good thick book." I tried to find her one - thinking about what she'd been reading and looking at various websites for suggestions. I semi-succeeded in the pursuit of a good book but in fact, all I really should have done was talk to her friend Sophia. It seems as though Sophia and her older brother Lucas always have a good book around. Today, after talking with their mom, I found the secret to their success - a book-loving grandma, a store in Milwaukee called Harry W. Schwartz and a catalogue called Chinaberry. I checked out both websites (Grandma K. isn't available to me)and they look wonderful - easy to use, full of categories for choosing books, and nice reviews. So, even though I haven't ordered from either yet, I'm recommending the sites to all of you - especially all of you with kids or grandkids.

He's definitely not my dad...

Yesterday Dave and I took the kids to the outdoor rinks where we all laced up our skates and spent the afternoon playing hockey. Dave and John left early so John could play in his "real" hockey game at Purpur arena. So when it was time to pack the rest of us up I was in the warming house by myself looking for Dave's hockey stick. I found one that looked like his but wasn't sure so I interrupted the six 12- year-olds who were talking and said, "I'm looking for a stick - is this one of yours?" At that point one of the kids said, "No, it's not ours; it's probably your dad's."

Wait a minute - my dad's?! I laughed and said, "Oh, you mean my husband's! Thanks - you just made my day." They looked a little puzzled but I wandered out of the warming house with a big smile - and couldn't wait to tell Dave about it when he got home.

It's not the first time it's happened. Even though he's only three months older than me people just assume I'm much younger. Maybe it's because I'm only 5'2", maybe it's because with each month he's got more gray hair mixed with the brown while I turn to a major salon event every six months or so, or maybe it's because I was blessed with Mom's skin and don't have many wrinkles. I'm not sure what it is but it's been this way since we were first married. At that point I was used to people thinking I looked younger than I really was. But lately, I've been surprised when people don't realize I'm over 40.

When Dave and I joined the 3-day tour after his October meeting in Barcelona (see picture) I was surprised when, on the third day, I mentioned something about turning 41 in a month and the lady sitting next to me was shocked. Shocked as in thinking I was kidding. She thought I was much younger - as in within the 25-30 age range. I was shocked that she'd think such a thing - I mean, don't I at least act like I'm in my 30's? And what about our three kids - the oldest of whom is 10?

Another incident happened about five years ago while I was teaching at UND. Midway through the semester a student confessed to me that on the first day of classes she'd seen me talking with the other professors and thought that I was a student - and one who was already "sucking up" to the professors.

And finally, fourteen years ago... a neighbor came to our backdoor and when I answered it, asked, "Is your dad home?" As with yesterday's incident, I laughed and said, "Oh, you mean my husband."

All of this makes me wonder - what kind of judgments do we make based on first appearances? And for those of us who look younger than we really are, what kinds of things do we do to make up for those first impressions?

I know that after my student made her confession I started each semester off by rattling off my experiences - saying I taught five years here, two years there, been at UND for ten+ and then I let my students do the math.

I'm also not at all shy about telling my age - maybe as a way of letting people know I have been around the block and know a thing or two.

I try and dress my age - I certainly don't dress as though I'm in my twenties. I'm not exactly wearing "Mom" jeans (at least I don't think I am) but I'm also not a statement of fashion. Even when I would dare to wear tight clothes and mid-riff baring outfits I didn't.

But for now, I'm fine with people thinking I'm younger than I am. Let them lower their expectations and then be surprised with my knowledge or experience. For the most part I don't think about how old I look - I'm comfortable with 41 and think it suits me well. And the next time someone is surprised at my age I'll laugh and take it as a compliment.

Thank you Santa - whoever you are

In early December I got an unexpected present from Santa - the object I've been wanting for over five years but have always been too cheap to buy for myself. Here's how it unfolded:

As I sat at the computer around 5 pm on a Monday evening there was an obnoxiously loud knock at the backdoor. I assumed it was Dave or someone else with a heavy load so I hurried to the door but when I got there nobody was to be seen. Instead, there was a large gift-wrapped box with the label, "To Marci From Santa." I smiled, looked aruound some more and when I didn't see anybody I picked up the box, surprised by its heavy weight, and carried it into the dining room. I set it down and peered out the dining room and then the living room windows - no one around.

For some reason I chose not to open it at the time. If you know me at all you understand the incongruity of that - normally I would have just ripped it open and enjoyed the moment. But I didn't. I waited for Dave to get home from work. Of course, we didn't take the time to eat supper or anything like that - the moment he got home I gathered everyone in the dining room and ripped open the paper.

The look on Dave's face, I think, was even more surprised than mine. You see, I thought it was going to be some old Christmas plates that I'd been wanting. You know the kind - you probably bought them at Dayton's in the early 1990's - they're clear with a sort of abstract green tree in the middle of the plate. Well, I have six plates but was trying to get a hold of many more. So - my guess about the present was that someone had bought new Christmas dishes and was donating their old ones to me.

I was wrong - very wrong. For in the box was a brand spanking new white Kitchen-Aid Artisan mixer. Yes, you heard me - a new mixer. It's a beauty.

The kicker of the whole thing is I still don't know who gave it to me. I have my suspicions - and Dave actually knows because the person called him and told him it was an "anonymous" gift but I should feel free to change the color if I wanted. He won't tell me though...and from past experience I do know bribery doesn't work with him.

So - to Santa (who may or may not be reading this blog entry) thank you so very, very much! Christmas cookies were a breeze and the bread has been awesome. I think of you everytime my eyes spy the mixer on the counter. You did it - you pulled a wonderful surprise present and I am humbled to have been the recipient. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Love, Marci