Friday, April 26, 2013

My Morse

I'm in love.  I saw this beautiful pink vintage sewing machine on eBay and I couldn't resist.  It's steel and chrome and about 40 lbs.  The seller says it runs great but I'm going to take it to a shop to be checked before I plug it in.  The plug is very vintage and very sketchy-looking to me.  It was a bit dirty when it arrived so hopefully the shop can help me get some of the grime off of it.

I can't find much information about these old machines.  This model is from the mid-50s I think.  The color is a bit more vibrant in person.  It was made by the same manufacturer who created a line of cars.  It's even stamped "Toyota" on the bottom.  I understand men and vintage cars a little bit more now.  This beauty was built to last, but is also beautiful to look at.  If it were a car it probably would have huge fins.  Like an old car, the parts are easy to come by and everything is accessible if one wants to tinker around and do repairs.  As fun as that sounds, I'm going to take it to someone who works with vintage machines all the time.

I always said I would never be one of those people who has extra sewing machines around the house.  I'm also the one who tells my kids to "never say never."  *sigh*   Don't tell anybody, but this is sewing machine number 4 for me. 

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Everything Changes

Do I look different? I feel like I do. A few days ago my six year old laptop turned up its toes and died. It wasn't a happy day. All I got was a blank screen. Even with all the clever tricks I know, I couldn't resuscitate it. So I looked online (on my smartphone) for help. That place that rhymes with "zest guy" quoted $250 for diagnostic and data recovery. Ouch. I turned to Yelp. One guy was really highly rated, and ironically, has a shop just behind zest guy. First thing Monday morning I packed up my dead laptop and headed out.

Now I can insert a long story here about this guy who drove up on his awesome motorcycle just as I pulled up. His old curiosity shop with a murky aquarium and high tech clutter mixed with vintage weirdness. I could tell you about cables that didn't fit my external hard drive, a trip to yet another quirky computer guy who had my daughter's hard drive and cable - that guy had a shop full of birds of all kinds, one of which wouldn't stop wolf-whistling at me. I could have stopped in there for hours just to talk about the exotic lutes he had on display. What is it with colorful computer repairmen? Anyway, it's a typical story of the bizarre world hidden behind the shop fronts I drive by every day.

In the end, with a cable that worked, he was able to take all my data off my laptop. Between all these trips around town, I stopped into zest guy and bought a generic, somewhat cheap laptop. It does about 10x what my old expensive laptop was able to do.

And now I am completely lost.

Windows 8. Do you have it? You can't get a computer without it these days. It's a bit bizarre. I'm trying to be patient while I learn but one wrong swipe of the mouse or keystroke and I am suddenly three screens away from where I was.

 Also, this keyboard is about a millimeter different from my old one. I seriously have to retrain my fingers to type. It's taken a lot of effort just to get the periods to show up on this page.

I had some pictures to go with this post. I haven't gotten my camera software to load yet though.

Perhaps most frustrating of all, this laptop doesn't know me. I suddenly find I have to remember a million passwords, some of which I haven't entered in years.

So - happy to have new technology at my fingertips, but not really enjoying the process of getting up to speed with it.

 I miss my old dinosaur laptop. I've turned into one of those people.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

A Letter From My 16 Year Old Daughter to the Senate

Today, I am ashamed to call myself an American.

        I will carry this shame with me until the Senate decides to pass a bill that expands background checks on purchasers of guns. Any bill, whether it’s President Obama’s gun control package or the Manchin--Toomey plan. Any bill at all that does anything to atone for the violence and hatred that has been so recently running rampant throughout our country. Anything at all to comfort, however slightly, the heartbroken families of the Sandy Hook victims and the countless others suffering because of loved ones lost to gun violence. But until that day, I am ashamed.

        I know there have been compromises proposed by both parties. I will not pretend to be an expert where gun control is concerned. But I do know that President Obama has proposed measures expanding background checks and banning certain military-style weapons. I have no statistics for you, no data that says the number of attacks that would be avoided because of these measures or how many potential murderers will be stopped because of them. If you want this kind of evidence, then my argument is already lost, because I believe that this is not an issue of science or numbers but of human compassion and responsibility. I have no data, only this simple belief--that more background checks would decrease the number of mentally unstable people purchasing guns. Even if it only stops one person, just one person who could have bought that gun but was stopped, then maybe that background check just saved an entire elementary school. To me, this is the same principle as airport security--as American citizens, we are willing to undergo certain inconveniences for the sake of our safety. I will not argue against the right to carry a gun, only against the assumption that everyone has the right to do so. There are bad people in this world.

        I hope that you will understand why I feel this way, because I have tried and tried but I still cannot see your point of view. I cannot understand how you can look at these victims, how you can look Gabrielle Giffords in the eyes and say to them, “I want to help.” You said that to them when you chose to serve on the United States Senate. You took a promise, your personal moral values aside, to help the people of this country. Yet in the very room where that hope and promise of the future is supposed to be brought about, by you, you instead turn to these families and say, “I will not help you.” Though to be fair, perhaps in your mental narrative it goes something like this--”You see, I want you help you, but--” And then perhaps you will go on to explain yourself. You might mention the pressures of the National Rifle Association, or were there political factors that were involved in your decision. I only hope, that when you offer some sort of excuse for yourself, you will not embarrass this nation further by claiming that you acted on your own conscience. If that is the case, then my shame is only worsened, because instead of weak-willed political puppets making decisions about my safety, instead I have monsters. Instead I have people who cannot empathize with the suffering of their country.

        Before, I was not afraid of guns. I am a sixteen-year-old girl living in the Bay Area of California, a place I believe to be one of the most open-minded and safe places to live. I thought I was removed from the horrible deeds of the world. I didn’t have to worry about getting shot on my way to school. But wasn’t that the same train of thought subconsciously running through the minds of those elementary school children on their way to Sandy Hook? Didn’t they believe they were safe? They didn’t realize it, but they had you to protect them. That is your job. To protect every child who is simply going to school. To protect every single person in this country. They trust you, whether they have learned about our country’s government system or not. They know that there is someone out there looking out for them, someone who can make a difference.

        There are bad people in this world. I am old enough to understand that, and I had hoped that you are too. Sometimes, these bad people can’t be reasoned with. There isn’t always a happy ending for their story, and they will go on to do bad things. But we have our government, our lawmakers, and our policemen, actively protecting us against anything that would harm us. There are laws in place regulating unsafe working conditions and laws against murder. These are beautiful things that our country has created, that our government has created. These laws act to protect the most important human right we have--our lives. And we have you to thank for that.

        Until today.

        Until today, when suddenly I am very, very afraid of losing that right which I hold dear. Now, I am afraid. It is not because there will be more violence, and it is not because I am now more aware of it. I am afraid because the people I thought would protect me have left me, and I suddenly feel very small.

        I’m just a teenager trying to get through my junior year. I don’t really mind blending in with countless other Americans right now. I don’t need to stand out or do important things, because at the moment, I am only responsible for myself, my family, and my friends, and that’s enough. When I am old enough to vote, I will be responsible for my country, and I will take that right more seriously than anything else I have done so far. Because in that small way, I can speak directly to you, a single, tiny voice in a vast crowd, shouting to be heard by you, the people who can make a difference.

        Today, my voice is lost. The voice of the nation is lost in that room where you voted today. I don’t know how you drowned out the voices of nearly 90% of our nation, but somehow the sound must not have bothered you enough.

        So here I am, bothering you. Do you know how much difference one annoying person can make? Almost as much as an entire country. We will be here, shouting at the top of our lungs. We want to be safe. We want you to be our protectors. That is why we chose you. Now, we just want you to do your job. 

        Please. Because I just want something to hold onto. Some good people in the world for me to turn to as I grow up and see more bad things, more violence and hatred and evil. People I can trust. People who I know will always, always do their very best to protect my life and my rights, so that I can still feel safe on my way to school.

        Will you be that kind of person for me?

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

With heart and hands

It's been a rough few days.  I think it's just best to acknowledge it as life moves forward.  I was pretty shaken by the bombings in Boston.  I remember the feelings I had after 9/11.  Not feeling safe.  Feeling exposed.

My kids were very small on 9/11.  They've grown up in a world where these things happen.  Just like they've grown up in a world of computers.  This is their reality.  They seem to handle the news better than I do.  Do they see the world differently than I do?  I imagine they must.  The shock is not as great.  For them there never was a time "before."   I try, as a parent, to teach them resilience skills.  Sometimes I learn from them, as I check in to be sure what they are feeling is not indifference.

On Tuesday after running some errands I picked up a small journal at a shop, bought a burrito in another, and went and sat in a park for a while.  I don't usually treat myself to time off like that, but I felt the need to get out of the house.  I watched the kids play and the gardeners mow the grass.  The gardeners tested the sprinklers and used the lawn edgers and I sat and felt the sun and smelled the fresh-cut grass.  And I wrote.  I wrote and wrote and wrote in that little journal.  All the jibberish of my feelings and ideas.

This morning I woke up at 5:00.  Not insomnia really - the cat has been waking me up early every day.  Today I didn't go back to sleep though, I grabbed another journal that was handy and I wrote and wrote.  Pros and cons of a decision I have to make.  Lists of things I want to do.  Ideas for the blog.  Ideas for a book.  Pages and pages of thoughts and ideas.

You'd think with all that practice writing I'd put posts up on my blog more.  But this was a different kind of writing.  Cathartic and healing.  It's a very positive practice for me.  It is a form of medition and mind-clearing.  It helps my brain move on.

My heart goes out to everyone who was affected.  To honor them, I started on another charity quilt.  Moving my hands also helps my heart.  The recipient will probably not have anything to do with the Boston tragedy, but it doesn't matter.  It's all about tipping the scales further in the direction of love for humanity.

These are not tough times we live in.  They are not bad times, or evil times.  It is just the time we have.  I am grateful for so much, not the least of which is the abundance of affordable journals available everywhere now.

I wonder if many people are using those journals like I have over the past few days.  Most of all, if you are reading this, I hope that you find an outlet that helps calm your nerves and heals your heart and gives you strength.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

On a desert island

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Sometimes it feels like a desert island around here.  We've been having a lot of trouble with our internet connection.  As I type this I'm looking at the router and its internet light is red.  I have several tabs on my browser spinning around trying to load.  Then they do.  Then they stop.  It's so aggravating.  I've spent hours with a customer assistance person with the lovely but unlikely name of "Autumn" trying to troubleshoot everything.

Of course, when she checks from her end, everything is fine.  *sigh.*

I've moved that router all over the house.  I'm going to try attaching it to the ceiling with duct tape next I think.

I've been thinking today about how I've grown so dependent on wifi. Living without it, even for short periods, feels like I imagine it must feel to be marooned on a desert island.  How would I find vintage needlepoint kits on ebay?  Or sync my calendar up across my phone and laptop and kindle?  How would I find well-tested recipes?  How would I load even more books onto my kindle?  And how could I possibly live without Pinterest??

Let's hope it never comes to that.  And while I'm on the topic of troubleshooting, let me remind everyone that google reader is going away in July.  Obviously they didn't ask me if that's okay.  I think it's a big mistake.  I'm jumping on the bandwagon with other bloggers an using Bloglovin.  Click on the link at the top of this post and you can migrate your feeds too.  If you don't use a reader yet, let me recommend it as a great way to stay in touch with the blogs you enjoy.

Now I'm off to find the duct tape.





Monday, April 8, 2013

Vintage finish and Amish progress



I just finished this hand-pieced hexagon quilt.  This is the first I've tried with elongated hexies and it had its tricky moments.  I pieced a lot of it in the car on the trip to and from Disneyland.  It was fun to use some of my reproduction prints.


I still struggle with my hand quilting.  This is about the only size I can handle right now.  Anything bigger would frustrate me too much I think.  These little quilts are more work than their size would imply.

So the various stuffed bears and rabbits around the house will get to enjoy my hand work efforts while the kids will have to settle for my machine work.


This is the quilt on my design wall.  It's getting huge so the lower border is just pinned up right now.  That will go on and then the next set of borders have applique. Lots of hours to go before this one is finished.

I'm linking up to Design Wall Monday.  Lots of beautiful work there every week.




Friday, April 5, 2013

Another finish in wool


This banner is supposed to be a topiary in a creamer.  It's cute colors but I'm having a little trouble adjusting them so you can really see the blue of the eggs and the pink of the creamer.  I need to figure out some of the finer points of my camera.

Yesterday Drama Girl auditioned for the advanced dance class at her high school.  We have a tradition in our house that any time anybody auditions for something, they get a McFlurry from McDonalds.  We started doing this years ago.  Auditions can be a strain mentally and physically and are often nerve-wracking.  This one was no exception apparently.  Very few open spots in the class and a lot of kids auditioning.  Drama Girl has had many years of ballet but she was also required to do a lot of hip-hop as well as jazz and modern.  She was so sore afterwards she could hardly walk.  If she doesn't get in the class she either takes P.E. or weight training next year to finish her P.E. requirement.  Fingers crossed for her, she'll know on Monday.

My husband saw her walk in the house with her McFlurry and asked if he gets one too.  He got a big promotion yesterday.  I think that deserves something a little more special than a McFlurry.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Santa's Village Progress

I've just finished the Post Office in Santa's Village.  I'm a little behind schedule getting these done if I want to have them all completed before next Christmas.  I'm enjoying the designs and the colors.  The next house is Mrs. Claus' cookie shop, which also looks pretty cute.

Busy few weeks here.  We spent Spring Break at Disneyland.  Not my first choice but the kids and husband really wanted to go.  It was too crowded for me.  I don't walk very fast since my hip replacement so I couldn't optimize my time in the park since I was always in a sea of crowds.  Ordinarily, I can plan a sequence of rides with minimal wait times if I can move easily between them.  This time I stayed in one area at a time and did the rides there if the wait times were reasonable.  I got on fewer rides and waited a little longer than usual.  Still, it was great to be at Disneyland and away from usual responsibilities.  The kids had a great time.  My husband sat and sketched at times.  I think the crowds were a bit much for him too, but he didn't complain.

Drama Girl is rehearsing almost every day for Pride and Prejudice.  The college brochures are coming fast and furious at our house and I watch her eyes glaze over as she scans them.  Not sure what her thinking is along those lines right now.  Next objective for her is to find a prom dress. 

Life just seems to move along faster and faster.  I think putting my feet up and doing needlework is my way of coping with it all.  This is done and is permanent and will never change.  These kids, on the other hand, are changing every day.  It's fun to watch them but a real challenge to keep up with it all.


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