The best-laid plans gang aft agley...

I meant to spend the weekend cleaning, but got sidetracked by the sewing machine. I thought of some half-yard pieces of cotton fabric in my stash somewhere, in 6 or 8 different light colors, with little darker-shaded dots. I hunted those up, and found that there's enough to make the setting blocks for the horse quilt. So I washed and ironed the pieces, and made a dish towel from a piece of an old madras cotton skirt.

I still have to do some washing and ironing, and go to the store.

Another Capricorn bites the dust

J.D. Salinger died Wednesday at the age of 91.

While I was still in high school, I saw the movie "My Foolish Heart," and didn't find out until many years later that it was based on Salinger's story, "Uncle Wiggily in Connecticut." When my baby sister became a teenager, she discovered Salinger and became a great admirer of his stories about the Glass family. So I read them all, too, "Bananafish" and "Franny and Zooey" and all the others. One of my favorites was "For Esme, With Love and Squalor;" I think it was Seymour who told that story. I loved all of Salinger's Nine Stories, and Catcher in the Rye. I even once practiced the Jesus prayer, like Franny, and it helped me through a hard spot.

Anyway, I was surprised to hear that JDS died; I thought he was already dead.

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This morning my phone was out, and I couldn't get on the internet. I called sister Susy on the cell phone to find out about her doctor appointment yesterday. Turns out she has bad tendonitis in that shoulder, and won't have to have surgery, thank the Lord.

After talking to Suze, I fiddled with all the wires around my phone box, and suddenly the green light came on. Go figure.

Another post office trip looms, to mail a Bookins order. I'm still waiting for my eBay sales money to be released. But I'm not complaining. And what I'm not complaining about is PayPal. Bless their problematic hides. Problematic means "maybe it'll work, and maybe it won't." I think.

Airs Above the Ground

Some time ago, I dug out these Persian Horse puzzle blocks that Jenny made, and have been wondering ever since how best to put them together for a quilt. The background fabric is very dirty and discolored, also chopped up around the edges. She had put them together with a dark blue fabric, not cotton, that she decided was wrong, so I took the dark blue out, leaving the edges frayed and, for some reason, the corners clipped.

I've been thinking about hand-washing each block before sewing them together. That way, I can press them and get them to fit the connecting blocks better. I'm thinking the setting blocks need to have a bold pattern but a subdued or neutral color, maybe wide vertical stripes. I'm open to suggestions.

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I called this post "Airs Above the Ground," because these horse blocks have always reminded me of Mary Stewart's book of that title, about the Lipizzaner stallions that used to perform in circuses--I don't know if there is still such an act.

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I Googled them, and indeed there is still such a show. They'll be on tour in different towns in Louisiana and Mississippi, the end of this month and during February.

Great Balls of Fire!

I'm not going to post every time I make a great sale, but I can't resist this time. I listed the Weller vase for 200 bucks, and it sold for 430! I'll leave the money with PayPal until the buyer has had the vase past the allowed return time. I'd sure hate to get my hands on that much and then have to refund it.

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I've learned, by way of selling the little quilt top, not to price anything cheap. It also sold, and will cost almost half as much as the selling price to mail. Ebay will also take out their fees, so I would have done better to keep the quilt top.

Doggy Days

Miss Gretchen has been here most of the day. I've got to call Ramey and let her know before it gets late. Gretchen is such a nice little dog, well-behaved in the house. She knows which piece of furniture she's allowed to sit/lie on. I even took her outside for a while, with an old belt for a leash, and she did pretty well, pulled a little, but would stop when I told her to.
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Joanne B., the FCDF lady in Moody, has a dog listed that catches my interest, a female 2-year-old yellow lab mix with all the shots, bells and whistles. They call her Amber, and at least in the photo, she looks like one of us. I like pets that look familiar, which is to say they look like pets that have been in the family before. Amber's face looks like Ginger, Nemo and Monty. She also favors Buck, who didn't get to be a family dog, but I liked him a lot. Joanne wrote that she's very well-behaved, house trained, and will walk with you without a leash--which I wouldn't expect her to do, though.
[Sunday morning: Joanne B. finally answered my emails, and said Amber was adopted last weekend. J.B. was probably waiting to see if the "adoption" went through. Almost makes me want to cry, but I won't.
When Buffy came to get Gretchen last night, G. was lying on her "blanket" on the sofa. She raised her head, but didn't bark or get up and run to the door. I think that's a first for her.]
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One reason I'm glad Gretchen comes here a lot, is that Mo is getting to be more and more tolerant of her, so maybe he'll tolerate "our" dog someday. The FCDF.org site lists many appealing animals that need a permanent home. But I just want a dog that won't bark or "go" in the house. And I don't even want that, when I'm at myself.

Needful Things

I'm not saying this book is a tremendous read, but it's certainly one I couldn't put down. Which is true of most of King's books, at least the ones I've read. I thought I had read NT before, but I hadn't. One pleasing thing about it is that, aside from the characters' dialogue, I only noticed one misspelled word, and none of the irritating typos that infest a lot of new books. Of course, this one wasn't new; I've got the first paperback printing, in 1991 or '92, I forget which. But of those published from the late '90s until now, it's rare to find a book that looks as if an editor had even looked at it.

One displeasing thing about Needful Things is King's repeated reference to literary characters' or movie stars' looks or personalities to make you "see" some of his characters. That's pure laziness, as anyone with his talent could certainly do so without dragging in Barney Fife or Howdy Doody. In the case of one female person in the book, he hardly described her at all and didn't compare her to anybody else, and to me she looked exactly like Kathy Bates in "Misery."

I think this is probably what I would classify as one of his better books, although the ending was a little far-fetched and crazier than the rest of it. As his best books (of the ones I've read), I would list:

The Dead Zone
The Shining
Firestarter
The Stand - I can't remember many details of this book, but I read the whole thing, so it must have been a grabber.
'Salem's Lot
Different Seasons (short stories)
The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon
On Writing (nonfiction)
Needful Things

Pretty Good:
The Eyes of the Dragon
The Talisman

The worst ones I've read:

The Langoliers
The Gunslinger
The Tommyknockers

Movies I liked very much but haven't read the books:

Misery
It
Dolores Claiborne

Movies I didn't like:

Cujo
Carrie
Pet Sematery

I know I've read other books by him, including Insomnia, but don't remember anything about them.

Hi, Noon!

One of those mornings when I sleep so long, and so soundly, that Mo gets worried and starts scratching my face to see if I'm alive. When I finally surfaced, I thought it must have been raining for me to have slept so long, but no, just cloudy with an occasional ray of sunshine.



The weather person said we'll get strong storms tonight and perhaps tornadoes. The way things have been going lately, maybe all of us around here ought to sleep in our basements tonight. I guess old Pluto is sitting back laughing at us.

The Marianne Moore poem

Silence

My father used to say,
"Superior people never make long visits,
have to be shown Longfellow's grave
or the glass flowers at Harvard.
Self reliant like the cat --
that takes its prey to privacy,
the mouse's limp tail hanging like a shoelace from its mouth --
they sometimes enjoy solitude,
and can be robbed of speech
by speech which has delighted them.
The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence;
not in silence, but restraint."
Nor was he insincere in saying,
"Make my house your inn."
Inns are not residences.


Marianne Moore

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The "father" in the poem was made-up; she never met her father, who was institutionalized shortly before her birth. Her grandfather died when she was a little girl. She and her mother moved around the country many times.
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Ted Hughes, long-time Poet Laureate of England, was the husband of poet Sylvia Plath. Once, they met Marianne Moore, at which time Moore was an old person. Hughes later complained in a book that Moore was rude to Sylvia. This was in a book that he wrote after Sylvia's death; I read a couple by him, and don't remember which one contained this anecdote.
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Hughes wrote a whole book of poems about Sylvia, after her death. A couple of generations have blamed him for her suicide, and the poems seemed to be both defensive and therapeutic. After reading about her life and personality, and reading both their poems, I was sort of surprised that both of them didn't commit suicide while they were married.

So, how did you spend your Saturday?

On the subject of wasting time--Yesterday I watched "House" marathon for hours and hours, instead of figuring out what to do next on eBay. Turns out, today, all I had to do was wait for the info from PayPal. Now all I have to do is go hunt and/or buy boxes.

I've also sold the two blue vases, and have a high bid on the Weller vase.

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Yesterday I went over to Susan's Yellow House to borrow her postal scale, and my other sister Ramey was there. After greetings from Sophie, we all sat down and chatted (not gossipped) about old friends and other stuff, including what we know or wonder about our Native American ancestors. Turns out Susan's late Darling, Vann, had a recalcitrant Scotch-Indian ancestor with the surname of, guess what, Vann.

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As Susan says, if you look into quantum physics, it seems we're all (including everyone on the planet, past and present) just one big happy/miserable/mixed-up/drunk-infested family. Did Susan say that? Well, maybe in a neater, more genteel way.

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On the subject of "House," I had watched a couple of episodes before, with a sort of grim fascination. Yesterday's viewing ought to be enough blood and guts to last a long time. But I do like that guy. He always (eventually) comes up with the correct diagnosis, even though his patients get pretty badly mishandled and beaten up in the process.

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I also barbecued 3-1/2 pounds of "country ribs" in the crock pot. Mmmm, mm mm!

Am I Losing It?

Heck, no. At least, I know what my problem is. Or was. I've sold two or more items on eBay, and I've been gnawing my gnails for >24 hours, wondering what to do next. Comes from getting mixed up with PayPal. I should have gotten a postal scale in the past month, but I didn't. I was wondering if somehow I could appeal to the Leeds P.O. to help me out. Anyway.

This morning I called my sister Suze to see if her pain is any better. She has an appointment with surgeons to see if her past back/neck surgery has anything to do with what she's going through now, and we pray it doesn't. I told her my problem with the mail, and turns out, she has a postal scale, so I'm going over there to borrow it. Maybe I'll learn the ropes on this eBay business. There's money there, if I can just move it to here.

Sold:

The stein hasn't closed yet, but I've got a good bid on it. I feel strange about getting rid of treasures. But I really don't think I'll ever think about them again after they're gone. That yellow vase has bothered me for 30 years or so. And I never liked the Roseville pot. I only like the stein because it reminds me of visiting Harvard and seeing the glass flowers, and Boston and seeing Longfellow's house and grave and all. I think Marianne Moore mentioned those things in a poem.

Wow!

This morning, the mailman brought my quilt from Donna's-In the Attic. Multi thanks to Susan for getting the quilting done for me. It is purely gorgeous, and the wave-pattern quilting is perfect. I still have to trim the edges and sew on the binding, which I want to do RIGHT NOW!

But I can't, because book club meeting is at one-thirty, so I have to get a move on. Quick shower and a pair of jeans and a sweat shirt--no, not a sweat shirt. The temp outside today is about 50, and the sun is shining. I may wear a sundress.

A Favorite Movie: Titanic, 1997

This link http://www.chasingthefrog.com/reelfaces/titanic.php has some fascinating photos and information about the actual Titanic passengers and the actors who portrayed them in the 1997 film. Some of the actors resemble the real characters that they played; Kathy Bates looks sort of like Molly Brown, and Victor Garber like Mr. Andrews who designed the real Titanic. The article tells that there was a real J. Dawson on the ship, but he was an employee and his name wasn't Jack. I don't think I'll ever get tired of this movie. Wish I had it on DVD.

Kathy Bates would get my vote for best actress anywhere, any time.

Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I entered the Chamber of Commerce building. I spent about an hour in the library's book room, gathering up books to buy, but no one was there to take the money for them. There was a group upstairs, but nobody downstairs, so I had to leave the books. They were just books I thought I might like to read, anyway, nothing I thought would sell for much.

When I was a little girl, I went to Dr. Clayton's clinic once, but never to his house. When I was at the University, the Falettas invited me to a party when Elvis was in Leeds, but I couldn't go because I was in Tuscaloosa and didn't have a way to get home; anyway, I think they still lived in the house near the school. Some time when Jack and Ima lived in the rock house, Mama said that it was a mess of tiny rooms, but over time they knocked out walls and renovated it.

My impression of the house yesterday, as I walked all around downstairs and found nobody, was that except for the book room, it's spacious but very dark downstairs. The upstairs rooms have more windows and fewer curtains but are not fully decorated. Overall, it's a lovely house, and I wish somebody lived in it. BTW, downstairs, there were Wrights everywhere--pictures of them, that is--one of old Mr. and Mrs. Wright with all the singles and twins and triplets.

Yesterday, because of hunger and lack of time, I ate a cheeseburger from Sonics. It 'ardly ever 'appens, but not a good idea, even occasionally. Today I have "chicken kickers" barbecuing in the crock pot, and I aim to make an apple pie at some point, from a bag of scrawny apples I bought at the little store.

Right now I'm going to write until the chicken is done.

Busy, busy, busy day

I have to mail three books today, and I think I'll go to the library's book store and see if I can find some good buys. Also have to pay some bills. I know there are other things I have to do today, but right now I can't think of them.

I listed this little quilt top on eBay:

I have about a dozen quilt tops, and doubt I'll ever get around to quilting all of them. I may send a couple to Donna to machine-quilt, but if this one sells successfully (i.e., for more than the minimum price), I'll put another one on eBay.

"...I'd sit down, and think some more..."

It seems I do still have a brain, and today it's running on all cylinders, if that's a valid metaphor. All I have to do is think, "New idea!" and I get another good or useful idea. And I didn't even sleep all that much last night, only 4-5 hours.

1. One of the good ideas came to me this morning while I was conducting one of my intensive searches, this time for the room deodorizer. I realized that I have previously, and almost unconsciously, established a Permanent Home for a couple of items that I constantly searched for: The 18" ruler resides in the top left buffet drawer, Rick's ruler in the desk drawer, camera in the top drawer in the foyer, binoculars in one of the Lillian Vernon table drawers, phone books in the cabinet over the oven, etc. So if I assign a Permanent Home to all or most of the things not nailed to the house, I can cut down on the hours of time spent searching.

2. I think I've previously mentioned the possible emergence of a January, or a 2010, novel. It's slow getting started, but I believe it'll get there sometime this year. It's beginning to shape up as science fiction combined with mystery, I think. I've written a prologue, and a list of chapter headings with tentative action notes in each chapter, as a sort of outline. But all that may change. I worked on it for a couple of hours this morning. And I plan from now on to quit planning and thinking about it, but just plunge in and tell the story.

3. I do seem to write better in the a.m., and can't write every day because of having to mail books on some Saturday mornings. My writing sessions last for almost exactly two hours, not always because I run out of ideas, but mostly because I get tired of sitting and typing; then it's hard to go back after a break. So I'm going to write for two hours, at least three days a week.
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Well, what a beautiful sunny day today is! I've just noticed.

If It's True, It Ain't Braggin'.

How about that Crimson Tide--National Champions once again! It was a mighty good game. Satisfyin'.

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Happy Birthday to

Seeing is believing, usually.

I went to the P.O. at 8:30 this morning, and on the way home I counted 7 spatters of snow, I wouldn't call them flakes.

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6:27 p.m.: It's just a few more minutes until The Game.

I know what you're thinking . . .

(My fourth favorite guy, next to Jed, Jack and Elvis.)

. . . I could have taken care of all this without the whining. You're right. I've got a new battery and everything's OK, for now, thanks to Andy and Susan and Andy's friend and Jed and Murray's. And God. But what some of you don't realize is that, when anything, and I mean Anything, goes wrong, I feel it's all my fault because I'm OLD! And that ruins my disposition. And I whine. But I don't get any younger.

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Looks like Amazon is wishing me Happy New Year, or birthday or something. I sold three books in December. I've already mailed 3 in January, and now I've sold another one--which I can't find on first search.

While I was waiting for them to diagnose and treat my car, I walked over to the P.O. in my big quilted jacket and got so hot, I had to shuck out of the coat.

Thanks, Viva.

My Medicare plan sent me a birthday card

Almost Ready To Quit

So far, 2010 is not off to a good start. I've spent today in futile pursuits. Before noon, I started the car to make sure it was working. I showered and dressed, fixed lunch and ate it, packed a book to add to the one I was unsuccessful in mailing last week, and the car wouldn't start.

Disgusted with 90% of everything, I decided to sign up for Endicia, an online postage printing service, so I could hand the packages to the mailman tomorrow. (It was already too late for the mail run today.) After a couple of hours of downloading their software and figuring out how to print a label, I found that it wouldn't accept my password, and it locked my account when I tried to reset the password.

So I deleted all that mess, and signed up for the USPS Post Office online system, which only took about half an hour. When I started to print a label, I found that it would only print express or priority mail labels, minimum price $14.95 per package to mail two little paperbacks.

I decided that tomorrow morning, I'll call Murray's to come and get the car and put in a new battery. But if I remember correctly, I tried to buy a new battery about a year ago, and they said the battery cable wires were too short to attach to a new battery. Anyway, I guess I'll try it again.

Then Betty White called me, and the phone in the office wouldn't work.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I find myself laughing now. I'll cry tomorrow, if it's anything like today.

Happy New Year!

Yesterday, my amiable nephew Jason came over and helped me get the old Abe Lincoln running again. I made a dash to the post office to mail my third December book sale. Of course, as it was New Year's Eve, the P.O. was closed, so I just drove around until Abe's gas tank was almost empty, then filled it to the halfway mark, and came on home.

The peas are cooking; the (best in the world, leftover from Christmas) ham is thawed; and I think there's still some chow-chow in a jar. I'll make a little salad and a small skillet corn pone, and about 2:30 I'll have "lunch." After that, I'll probably have a glass of wine and take a nap. A not very exciting day; but I don't have any company to celebrate with.

Royalty-free photo