Memories

Once again we begin to think of the christmas season soon to be upon us.

Of course for me it is all the preparation and especially all the goodies we enjoy.

Out comes my recipes and as usual the old standbys always come out first.

My Mom, bless her soul, gave me her recipe for mincemeat. She wrote it on the back of a used

envelope. Just the ingredients, No amounts and no directions. I treasure this little piece of

scrap paper because it is written in Mom's handwriting.

My daughter Liz always helps making the mincemeat. It has become a family tradition.

She peels the apples and puts them through the food processor. "Mom, do you think we have

enough apples?" asked Liz. "Oh I think so". We then proceed to put in all the other ingredients

tasting as we go. Perhaps should add a little more of this or that. Eventually it satisfies our

taste buds. Because of my Mom, the finished product is a little different every year. Thanks

Mom for the special memory.

Memories

Tree of life quilt

Finally the saga continues-re the tree of life quilt. It seems like an odd name for a quilt because its a tree trunk covered with flowers. My sister thought it should have loaves of bread and all different foods on the branches, and perhaps Adam and Eve.

Dimensions of quilt -97" x 109". Not being a mathematician, I have no idea how many stitches it contains, perhaps a few thousand or more. It took three of us working steady-7 days a week for two and a half weeks.

There was one problem after another. The two middle pieces did not line up properly, So stitches were taken out and new ones put in. This quilt has been in my possession for probably close to ten years, so I couldn't very well complain to the company, but had it been new they certainly would have gotten an ear full and then some.

Mary, Ruth and myself finally got at it. Lots of good stories were told and lots of laughs were had. We really did have a lot of fun doing this.

In the the quilt was renamed "the quilt from Hell"

Come this winter when it's on my bed, it should keep me nice and warm-even hot, if it's true what they say about hell!!

I want to thank Mary and Ruth for all their help. It was greatly appreciated. Without their help I would still be working away. Thanks a million girls.

My voodoo doll

This was hilarious when it happened, but may not seem very humorous now. It took place in my living room. Over the winter months I spent many hours embroidering a quilt. N andow it was time to quilt. My sister Mary brought her quilting frames and we proceded to put this quilt in the frames. It took all morning to acc omplish this fete. By 1 p.m. exhaustion was setting and we were at the point of giddiness. Next step was to pin it to the frames using extra large straight pins.

Well my sister was holding the box of pins, when I looked over and could'nt believe my eyes. The box had flipped, pins everywhere, They were stuck in the rug, all over the quilt and all down the front of Mary. We were in stitches-pardon the pun-we laughed til we cried.

At that very moment she became my voodoo doll.

The name of this quilt is "The Tree of Life"

There will be a sequel to this saga.

The old swimming hole

One day last week an email arrived listing all the things that were becoming extinct in the very near future.

One of these things was the old swimming hole. This brought to mind my old swimming hole. We lived on a farm with only an orchard between us and a small village with a creek running through the village.

Summer was a very busy time on the farm and we all had to help with the hay, the threshing and whatever else needed doing.

At the end of the day we all headed for a swim to wash off the dust of the day.

We had so much fun. There were lots of kids who lived in the village and every one of them would gather there. There didn't seem to be any adults supervising us and of course no life guards on duty. We all survived. It's a wonder that we did.

On the far side of the creek was a mill and along with the mill there were cows. Half dozen or so. The swimming hole was their drinking hole. While we swam, the cows drank and did their business in the water.

Nobody seemed concerned. Nobody ever got sick.

To-day my swimming hole has disappeared. It has become a golf course with a creek running through, but like so many of these country clubs they are private. It,s sad to think that no one swims there anymore and the laughter of the kids has been quieted.

The old swimming hole

darning

As I sit in my easy chair with my faithful friend at my feet, I was darning a pair of warm socks. Thses socks were given to me by my daughter Cathy for Christmas or birthday. It's so long ago it's hard to remember. Some oif the younger people will not know what darning is all about. It just isn't done these days. Some older folks will know what it's all about.
this particular pair of socks were so worn our, with holes in both heels and toes & holes in between. One morning they almost hit the garbage. They were so warm and toasty that the thought of throwing them out was just too much. Out came my sewing basket, out to the kitchen for a large naval orange, which Molly thought I was about to eat, and I settled back in my chair and began. You put the orange in the sock and it gives you good stability. It's strange how a person's mind begins to wander. A vision came into my head of my Grandmother. While she lived with my family on the farm, she did all the mending and darning of socks. We were a large family so there was always mending and darning. Gramma sat for hours in the rocking chair with her basket of wool, needles etc., beside her. It was a beautiful dark green wicker basket with an orange stripe around the top. Unlike me, she just made a fist, inserted it in the sock and began her work. It was amazing to see her at work. She was a tiny lady with hair so long she could sit on it. Every morning she brushed and brushed it, and then she wound it around and around until it was in a bun. By the way, she was the mother of 12 children. No wonder she could darn those socks. After a time my socks were finished and they are still keeping my toes cozy. They're not as beautiful as when they were new. They now have threads of navy grey and brown spots on them. The colour of these socks were originally pale green with white sparkley thread around the tops and silver threads holding pearls in a lovely design on the sides. You can see why it was to hard for me to throw them out!

Darning

Cupcakes

I love cupcakes.

Any kind of cupcakes.

So does Molly.

She's my dog.

Part poodle, part schizu. We call her a shits-poo.

Sorry, don't mean to be rude.

Molly won't eat dog food but she'll eat anything else: horse poo, chocolate, cookies and cupcakes, of course.

She also likes birthday cake.

One year my daughter, Liz, made a fabulous chocolate cake for someone's birthday. We were in the other room after dinner letting our supper settle, and I went back into the kitchen only to see Molly up on the table, face buried in chocolate fudge icing.

Anyway, this blog is about me and Molly.

Just me and her against the world.

And all the cupcakes we can eat.