CH Musings

Making progress on Old Yeller

2012-01-25T16:25:00.000-06:00

I've taken a little time off from working on my quilt, largely so I can try to sit up straight again, shoulders back, and without pain. When I get involved in something, I tend to work on it til it hurts. I do the same thing with Jigsaw puzzles. I just can't seem to leave them alone.

It has been a couple of days since I've worked on Old Yeller, (I think I'll call it that until it becomes a completed quilt.)
For the last few days I have been working on a book I've been writing for years. Some day it will be something to talk about, but for now, let us just say, it is an ongoing project.

I made great progress on last week, devoting an entire day to simply cutting out all the pieces that will go into my fifteen 12-point star blocks. There are only five different shapes, but some of them are used in each block a couple times. Two shapes required 60 individual pieces each. Most of the others required only 30.

Once all of them were cut out, it took two days to sew them together into units. There were eight units in the block, with an inner unit--the star and an outer unit--the background.
I have already completed the inner units for all 15 blocks.

I took great pains in trying to match the center points. I really like perfection, but it is so difficult for us humans, especially when a perfect block is dependent on both perfect cutting and perfect sewing. Honestly, these blocks are not perfect, although I did the best I could for my ability and experience. This is after all, my first star block.

It certainly is close enough though that when completed, I will be happy with it.

All that is left to do is to sew the outer four units, each which contain three pieces which are already sewn together. These are all tricky inset seams, although I believe they are so much easier than those pesky points.

I will complete the blocks in a day or so. Then I can concentrate on my alternate nine-patch blocks. That should be a snap. Then I get to worry about what kind of backing and batting to use. ARRG! More decision making. Then there will be the big decision about a quilting pattern. That will be when the fun part begins.

It is so exciting when all the pieces come together. I'm anxious to see a completed quilt top, not to mention a completed quilt, though that is months from now.

I just thought of something--Imagine trying to explain the quilting process to an alien or someone who never heard of quilting. We take perfectly good yardage, cut it into tiny pieces, only to sew it back together again. Sounds silly, but won't it look nice?

Quilting obsession continues

2012-01-16T11:13:00.001-06:00

My quilting obsession continues!

I just created a quilted table runner over the weekend. It is just a little something I put together to blend the green of the kitchen and dining room with the mauve of the living room. The fabric in the picture looks more brown than it actually is. It does look more pink in person.

I think it turned out rather well. It was fun to do, gave me practice piecing fabric and working on my ever-necessary sewing skills, as well as satisfying a practical purpose. It doesn't get much better than that, I don't suppose.

I was surprised at how little time it took (even though it took the better part of two whole days). First, I cut the pieces and sewed them all in one day. I hand-quilted the center, using a feather wreath motif. The following day I stitched-in-the-ditch on the sewing machine along the strips and hand-sewed the binding.

I'm glad to have added a touch of color to the counter just behind my kitchen sink.

My next project is going to be ongoing and is a little more ambitious. As previously mentioned, I decided to make an all yellow quilt.

I am stepping way out of my comfort zone for this project.

I have collected all the fabric I plan to use, and as I previously stated, I have created a design I like on Electric Quilt 5. I set out to make a sample of the main design--a star that is way more complicated than anything I have attempted before. This green block is actually my second attempt. I used Murphy's Law--"if anything can go wrong, it will"--at just about every step. When I first put it together it was puckered and refused to lay flat both in the center and beyond it. I took every seam out and realized I had cut four of the pieces wrong. I cut two at the same time, not taking into account that the angle was wrong on the second piece of the folded fabric. Ah, more learning by mistake.

I cut four new pieces and it went together just fine.

I like how it turned out, so after a couple more days, (which turned out to be yesterday), I decided to jump in with both feet. There were a lot more learning experiences resulting in seam ripping again and again, but here is the completed first of my future quilt. I'm going to call it Sunshine on my Shoulder.

I can't wait to make the next 12 of them. They will be alternated with nine-patches of varied yellow fabrics. On the second and fourth rows, I will turn the blocks to form a secondary design with that wacky polka dot fabric.

I know a lot of people aren't fond of yellow, but I happen to love it. I can't wait to have a bed full of these stars shining like sunshine every morning when I wake up. Feel free to tell me what you think.

Next quilting lesson - paper piecing

2012-01-04T15:44:00.000-06:00

I'm not sure what has come over me, but I believe I'm trying to become a quilter.

On the recent quilting board I joined the other day, I decided to participate in a block of the month project. The finished quilt will be a sampler, with 12 blocks, one to signify each month. This month, the theme was a pre-chosen block had a chill about it. The one that was picked was called snowblossoms. It was to be done by paper-piecing.

I never did paper piecing before! If learning from mistakes is the best way to learn, I should be able to teach a class by now.

The first thing that happened was my sewing machine began sewing backwards. I have no idea what that was all about. I looked in the owner's manual and online, but the only advice I saw was to unplug it and plug it back in. Who would try a computer solution would work on a sewing machine? I did--it didn't work. Someone wrote that the problem could have something to do with the polarity in the plug, whatever that means. Someone else said it could be the foot pedal. I have no idea what it was, but I took out the bobbin, put it back in, lowered the feed dogs and raised them again, re-threaded the machine. Lo and behold it began to work properly again.

I should have known this was not going to be a good day for sewing. I spent the entire day trying to 'get' paper-piecing. The block was fairly simple, or so the board participants said, but you couldn't prove it by me. It seems that everything that could go wrong, did, from sewing the piece wrong side out, running out of bobbin thread, to cutting off an important corner, and who knows what else. I was so exhausted by time I got all of the pieces cut out that I decided to finish it in the morning.

That was this morning and I did just that. I wasn't happy with the block however. So, I decided to try all over again. I just finished what I think is a pretty nice looking block. I'm fairly happy with how it turned out. By the way, I took this picture of the block with my favorite tool beside it--the seam ripper. That sucker got a real workout!

I'm not sure I like the paper-piecing technique, but then it may be too early to tell. I did learn a few tricks along the way, like cutting the pieces close to the size needed and making sure to press each addition to the piece with the paper still on so it doesn't shift. I'm sure there are plenty more tricks to learn. Only practice makes perfect.

I'm not sure paper piecing enhances accuracy. I still had a couple pieces that were less than perfect. It is also very messy with bits of paper, fabric pieces, and of course threads all over. I found that it also created lots of waste, yet I can see where cutting more precisely at the beginning would help with that.

It was a fun experience though and I look forward to trying it again. So here it is Jan. 4 and I already have my January block completed. This might just be good for me. So, on to February.

Having quilt withdrawl--time for a new quilt

2012-01-03T09:00:00.000-06:00

I want to make a new quilt--a yellow one. I have been collecting fabric, basically varieties of yellow, in the after Christmas online sales, my favorite being Fabric.com.

The first decision was easy. I really knew I wanted to make a yellow quilt, the bright sunshiny kind of yellow, rather than a mustard, gold, or other shade.

For the last several days, I have been going through old quilting magazines. I have a plethora of them. For some reason, nothing really 'moved' me, although the experience was quite relaxing and enjoyable.

When that didn't pan out, I hit the online sources. There are so many sources for free quilt block patterns, simply by googling 'free quilt block patterns.'

I joined a quilting board, not so coincidentally at http://www.quiltingboard.com, where there is a plethora of information and lots of willing-to-help experienced quilters. I even started a blog there. Now this is just what I need--another blog. At least this one will be strictly for quilting rather than all the other things I find intriguing in the world.

I found some quilts pictured there that I absolutely loved, though none that I really wanted to make that would showcase all the fabric I had purchased.

I even went back to a computer program I had purchased long ago but had never really explored -- Electric Quilt 5. I have no idea why I never used it before, except that I found it a bit cumbersome. The company is up to EQ7 now, so I didn't even know if my program would work on Windows 7. Much to my surprise, it loaded with no problem.

I played with the program all morning and lo and behold, I have designed a quilt.

I'm not going to get too excited yet, or post pictures of it yet, since it may be beyond my skill level. I have plenty to think about before I start it, but for now, at least I have made the difficult decision about what to make. I hope I can do this because I don't want to have to make that decision again.

Now, it is just a matter of assigning fabric, figuring out what else I might need, and perhaps making a sample block. Even after making seven quilts, I am still not comfortable with all of this, so I'm going to take it slow. I really can't wait to get started. Wish me luck!

Bonding with my sewing machine

2012-01-02T16:00:00.000-06:00

Happy New Year!

I hardly noticed the date change since I've been spending time bonding with my sewing machine. I'm pleased to say we are becoming good friends. I believe 2012 will be a very quilty year.

Since I wanted to learn to machine quilt, that is what I set out to do. I'm fairly happy with the results, not because I'm good at it, but because I see where with plenty of practice, I could be good at it.

The Christmas table runner I was working on during my previous post Attempting to learn hand-quilting, has turned out pretty well.

Thanks to a quilting pro friend of mine, who does longarm quilting and does some of the most beautiful work I've ever seen, I learned that my bobbin tension needed adjustment as evidenced by the photo.

That makes sense. I had a terrible time trying to get the stitches to be uniform in size. They still aren't, but at least now I know what to do. My first couple of tries were definitely not good. I attempted to unsew them, that is, take the seam ripper to all those stitches. The stitches were so tight though that it was next to impossible to sneak the point of the seam ripper under them. I took great pains not to cut the fabric in the process, which was a failure. I actually did poke through it in a couple places. No problem, though as this table runner became a practice piece as soon as I made the decision to give machine quilting a try.

I actually think I could use this piece again, albeit under something larger than the tiny Christmas tree in the picture.

By next year, when it comes back out of the attic, I hope to be much more skilled at using my machine. I hope to laugh at myself the next time I see this piece because I will be so much better. So, onward and upward in this new, previously unexplored world of quilting.

Basil is doing well indoors

2011-12-16T15:52:00.000-06:00

First I enjoyed my sewing success in finishing my quilt. Now, I'm reveling in my indoor gardening skills. If I start to claim to be Suzy Homemaker, just pay no attention.

Granted, it is only mid-December and there is plenty of winter left to go, but for now, I am thrilled that the sweet basil and cinnamon basil plants I brought in from outside, are alive and well. I've been pinching a little here and there. I use it in cooking, but the real thrill for me is having the scent of basil on my fingers. I love the smell. I like to pet the cats after I've touched the plants. I'm not so sure if they like to smell like basil, but I certainly find it rather pleasant.

For a long time--possibly related to motherhood through one of those uterine connections--I thought my green thumb had died. I used to have such beautiful house plants. At some point however, it seemed that everything I touched withered and died.

I have never had luck wintering basil. I got into the habit of simply replacing plants every spring. Perhaps things are turning around for me. I am hopeful.

I have had some other minor successes on the back porch as well. Like the Wandering Jew plant that is barely visible in the first picture. That was a huge pot with long trails of leaves. When I got ready to bring it indoors a couple months ago, I was planning to give it a good trim. When I inspected it, I learned that the best leaves were the ones hanging from nearly dead stems. When I trimmed it there was little left. I took all of the healthy parts and stuck them into water. In just a few days, they were rooted. I planted them back into the same pot.

A glass full of plants is usually an open invitation for Ryan, the eldest of our four cats. Like her sisters, she just loves to hang out with my plants. Ryan is unique though, in that she loves water too. When I water the plants she sticks her nose right there for every plant. She just loves water so much that the bathroom sink is her favorite place to hang out. See likes to drink from the faucet and when the sink is dry, she likes to writhe around in it waiting to be petted. We call that 'sink cuddles.'

I also have a couple of African Violets that are still alive. I've always had problems growing African Violets, always marveling at my mother's collection of them. I've always been stumped as to why I always killed them.

These two, plants I bought this summer at an estate sale, are not just alive, but are still blooming and looking good. I should say they are both blooming but only one of them looks good. My horticultural genius again, Ryan along with her sisters have had their way with one of them. It actually looks like a violet tree. Most of the lower leaves are gone revealing a leafless stalk with purple flowers on top. I'm not sure how to fix that problem yet.

Then there is the Christmas cactus--another plant I picked up at a yard sale. It is dutifully budded and awaiting Christmas Day so it can open. I wonder how it knows.

My plants fill a table on my back porch. They are hanging in the windows and some are on side tables. I just love being in that room. It is sunny and pleasant. Every now one of the kitties will walk past and I will get a whiff of sweet basil. Winter in Arkansas can be a very pleasant time.

Attempting to learn machine-quilting

2011-12-09T10:43:00.001-06:00

Image via Wikipedia

I am attempting to teach myself to machine quilt. I remember the first time I saw stippling used on a quilt. It was at a quilt show in Peotone, Illinois, where I first got bitten by the quilting bug. This small project, hanging in the First Presbyterian Church there, was a quilted scene--a wall hanging. I was really impressed by the look of it. I had never seen anything like it, but then I was experiencing quilts for the very first time.

Since then, I have seen some of the amazing work done on long arm quilting machines, something I know I will never be able to afford myself. There is nothing more exciting than a beautiful pieced quilt that is expertly quilted. Wow!

I had never really entertained the idea of machine quilting. Truthfully, I was just glad I could master the art of quiltmaking. I love hand-quilting and want to continue to perfect my skills. There are so many different steps to making a quilt. Each one contributes to the overall project, which makes all of the steps important. One failure in design, color, cutting, piecing, sewing, and finally quilting, and an entire project can suffer. When all those things work together, the result is astonishing.

I've always felt that for some reason, machine-quilting seemed like 'cheating.' I do prefer the feel of a hand-quilted project. But, I am dismayed by the time it takes, not to mention the wear and tear on my hands. Four years for one quilt is just too long, though. The other day, I figured, what the heck. I may be a senior citizen, but I like instant gratification too.

Now that I have dabbled at machine quilting, I am pretty intrigued by it. This is a good challenge and there is nothing I like more.

The hardest part was getting my sewing machine to cooperate. I spent almost the entire afternoon yesterday playing with tensions and different colored threads. Several more hours were spent trying to figure out how to 'stitch in the ditch' in a straight line. I can see where machine quilting for straight line work could speed up projects substantially. My recent log cabin quilt was all straight line work. I can see where a combination of machine and hand-quilting might be beneficial.

One of the things I love about quilting is the precision. Today's tools allow for good cutting and good quart-inch seams. There is nothing better than good sharp points all in the right places and corners that match precisely.

So far I'm not all that impressed with my machine work. It seems really cumbersome and odd to manipulate the fabric that way. I can see though how practice might help greatly. I do, however, enjoy the speed at which a project could be completed. There is nothing like a completed quilt. And, of course I love a good challenge.

When I was little, one of my favorite toys was the Spirograph. I used to doodle with it for hours, creating the most intricate and beautiful designs. I would make a simple design and then add designs to it in increments. What resulted was a beautiful, intricate motif. A long arm quilting machine reminds me of that toy. I would love to make stitches like those designs. To me, those would be the ultimate quilts. Perhaps I will win the lottery one day. If I do, I'm going right to West Plains, MO to the Gammill sewing center store.

My quilt is finally done!

2011-11-28T11:19:00.001-06:00

Mission accomplished! I finally finished the quilt I started more than four years ago. Pink is my favorite color and log cabin is my favorite block. It is just so traditional.

When I began this project, I had lots of fabric strips cut out, sorted by size and color and placed into a huge basket. I had some squares completed. But that was before our cat had her kittens. The babies were so much more fun than sewing, so my basket of fabric strips just sat.

When the girls (four of them) finally got old enough that I could resume my project, I found that they had spent some time sitting in the basket containing all my previously cut fabric strips. Before I could re-organize them, they had to be de-haired. It took even more time before I even wanted to take on that task. The funny thing about making a quilt is that there are so many steps. I never knew that de-hairing the fabric was one of them, but in a multi-cat household, I suppose that is to be expected.

One day, about a year ago, I decided to finally tackle the project. I've been at it ever since. By the way, that is Ryan, who has been my constant helper.

The other day it was raining. I was finally almost finished. I sat in the sunroom, quilt on my lap, and set out to complete the border, the final step before trimming and binding. I felt a little sad when the hand-quilting was done. There is nothing more relaxing than hand-quilting. The border is simple, but I like how it turned out with butterflies and leaves.

Yesterday, I set aside the entire day to finishing. In the picture at right, Ryan and Kasey were helping me pin the binding.

It is finally finished. I've made a half a dozen or more quilts. I'm anxious to start on the next one. Perhaps it won't take four years this time.

2011-11-25T12:25:00.001-06:00

I join the people in the City of Chicago who mourn the loss of Maggie Daley. The former first lady died yesterday. Her family was with her. It was after all, Thanksgiving Day.

Though I no longer claim Chicago as my home, the city of my birth will always have a special place in my heart as it is where some my most deeply-rooted influences began.

I never had the pleasure of meeting Maggie Daley, but much of what was known about her indicated that she was a good, loving woman who cared deeply about her family and others. Her charity work is well documented. Her influence on her husband, Rich Daley, who I have had the pleasure to meet, was evident. I'm sure he would admit he was a better man because he loved her.

Rich Daley has had his critics; it went with the territory. I was not one of them. People either hated him or loved him. I was among the latter group. I found him to be genuine, honest, emotional, and driven by that which inspired him.

I met him during the early 1990's, when he and I were on the same side of the fight against a Peotone Airport. I was always impressed by him, his simple understanding of complex issues, the power he wielded only when absolutely necessary, his intellect, and his cunning. Rich Daley was a leader, not just locally, but nationally as well. When he spoke, people listened.

As has been said so many times in recent hours, Maggie Daley was the woman behind the man with an influence that is obvious in every part of the city the two of them reigned for so many years.

My heart goes out to Rich Daley and his entire family. I can only imagine the loss they must feel.

I will always remember!

2011-11-22T09:02:00.001-06:00

Cover of John F. Kennedy

I remember the day!

Lined up for a spelling bee in Ms. Salemi's sixth grade class at Riley Elementary School in Northlake, Illinois, I will never forget. Word came over the intercom that President John F. Kennedy had been killed by an assassin's bullet.

Moments before, the room was filled with gregarious pre-teens. But upon hearing that tragic news, we watched our teacher--a young, pretty, single woman who had been our inspiration, our mentor--as she begin to weep. She tried to hide her emotion from her students, but it was as if she was personally touched by this tragedy. It was like she had heard of the death of her best friend. Try as she might, she couldn't hide such raw emotion--no one could. Many of us cried with her.

Though the full gravity of the events of that afternoon were unknown to us at the time, we were mature enough to know that something horrible had occurred. We knew that this day would be one we would always remember.

I'm not sure whether it was the assassination of a popular U.S. President or the emotional display of our teacher, but we were keenly aware that something bigger than us was very different, very wrong. We had no way of knowing how different. No one did.

Living through the rest of that day was like being in a fog. There was no relief. When we returned home from school, it continued. Our television sets were taken over by news of the assassination, and then days of mourning and the funeral. I watched every day of the coverage. Even today, if there is a major news event, I watch as events unfold, following to their conclusion.

We felt the uneasiness in the pit of our stomachs that afternoon, perhaps for the first time. Like a tiny microcosm we experienced the same horror, dread, and tragedy felt by the entire country and the world the day the President of the United States was assassinated.

I believe that day really did change us--as individuals, as well as a country. We were shaken by this event, to our very core. We lost our innocence that day.

I was young--I admit that I knew little about the world around me. But for me, I think this event lit a tiny spark of curiosity, a yearning to learn about what lies beyond the walls of the small bungalow my family called home. I learned to question, even the obvious. It wasn't until years later that those embers began to light.

The fire continues to burn.

Image via Wikipedia

I will never forget the image of Jackie Kennedy, her blood-stained pink suit, the blank look on her sad face as Lyndon Johnson was sworn in to succeed her husband as President of the United States. She had lived the life of a princess but suddenly was faced with unimaginable horror. I felt such empathy for her that I wanted to burst.

But even with years of healing, the scars remain. I do not for one moment believe that Kennedy was killed by Lee Harvey Oswald, a lone-shooter from high above that Dallas street. I no longer trust all that I hear or read. I believe truth means different things to different people. I abhor violence. Deranged people should not have access to weapons. Evil people do exist.

I don't think I am very different from my classmates lined up on opposite sides of the room for that spelling bee forty-eight years ago. One thing is certain; we will always be a generation that remembers the day Kennedy was killed. It will forever be a sad reminder of how good things rarely last.

I'm so hooked on "Heartland"

2011-11-07T11:40:00.000-06:00

Image by davipt via FlickrI almost feel as if I’ve struck gold struck gold.

My newly found discovery does not take on a monetary form, but rather a more important kind—one related to my psychological well being.

I’ve been watching movies on Netflix, when not too long ago, I came across what I thought was a movie. All I knew about it was that it had to do with horses. I have discovered that little is more relaxing to me than watching one of those sappy horse movies, where the horse is the star and the hero. It usually contains human heroes too and almost always has a side plot that is just as sappy. It almost always has a happy ending. These kinds of movies are so wholesome, usually make me cry, and nearly always make feel good when it is over. They remind me of some of the television shows I watched as a child—Flicka and Fury—come to mind. It was way back before too much sex and violence took over the big screen and commercials invaded television. Ah, the good ole days!

I have always been enamored with horses, though have not had much experience with them. I have ridden only a couple of times in my life, and not for many years. I just have always had such a fondness for horses. There is nothing more beautiful to me than one or more horses grazing in a field, their long manes and tail swaying in the breeze. I love to watch them run. Their movement is so fluid.

I especially love their faces. Their eyes are so big and expressive; their nuzzles are so soft. Just everything about them is beautiful. I used to draw them when I was little. I always preferred horses in my coloring books, in puzzles, and paint-by-number pictures.

I have never really had much occasion to get to know any horses personally. I was born in the city and grew up in the suburbs. A few years ago as a reporter, I covered a few horse shows, but that is about the extent of my experience with these beautiful animals.

Heartland is set at the base of the Rocky Mountains in Alberta, Canada. The scenery is beautiful. The characters are perfectly cast. It is about a young woman, Amy, who inherited her mother's sensitivity for horses. She is called a horse whisperer, though Amy dismisses the term, simply claiming to understand her equine friends. The story line revolves around Amy and her family, including her boyfriend Ty, who started out as a misguided ranch hand.

After I watched Heartland, a closer inspection on Netflix revealed that Heartland was actually a television series; it was a product of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. There were 22 episodes. I wanted more, so I was elated.

I watched a couple shows at a time. Then when I got to the final episode, I was all ready to enjoy a wrap-up of the entire season. Instead I was shocked when one of the prominent characters was shot by cattle rustlers as he tried to protect his herd. It ended abruptly, leaving me completely unsatisfied. I was not happy with the “Who shot J.R.” moment. Assuming there had to be more, I scoured Netflix, but I couldn’t find additional episodes. I was devastated, but motivated.

A little Internet sleuthing revealed that my instincts were correct. I learned that what I had seen were all of the first and a portion of the second seasons.

In Canada, the fifth season is now airing. I learned that Heartland is now being shown in the U.S. with the premier episode last September.

More information is available on the following website about show times in various markets and information about the cast, etc. There are even a couple of clips which are probably enough to get anyone hooked. http://www.theheartlandranch.com/category/watch-heartland

Most of the shows are available on YouTube, although they are not easy to find. Be warned that some of them are even in French, which for me was a little unnerving.

If anyone wants to watch this series on their computer, it is possible, to find all of them. One hint, search Google videos. Some of the episodes are recorded on You Tube in five parts. I haven’t found that to be a problem. But then, I’m addicted to this show. I love the characters, cast, and stories which incidentally originated in a series of books (25) by Lauren Brooks, starting in 2001. That will be a project for another day.

I’m currently enjoying my fourth season. I just love this show, so I thought I would share.

I certainly don’t get Bieber fever

2011-11-02T09:43:00.000-05:00

Image via WikipediaWhat do so many people see in Justin Bieber?

Now I admit that in my day I swooned over the likes of Paul McCartney, John Lennon, and even Andy Williams. I loved music by Michel Legrand, Henry Mancini, and Johnny Mercer. I love music. And I wonder what ever happened to it.

Sorry, but I just can’t put Justin Bieber into the same category as these greats whose music will live on timelessly. People are still enjoying John Lennon’s “Imagine.” Three generations have known The Beatles’ classics. And Elvis—everybody on the planet knows Elvis’ music.

Will Justin Bieber’s music stand the test of time? I don’t think so. At least not from what I heard last night when he performed on Dancing with the stars. He performed a number with Boyz II Men. Those guys have talent. They so outshined Bieber that I was almost embarrassed for him.

I admit this was really my first exposure to Bieber, so I hope I’m not characterizing him unfairly. I have heard his song “Baby” and except for it being a catchy tune, I doubt it will ever be a classic. In fact, it is now a little annoying.
Now this is not to say that Justin Bieber isn’t a stand-up guy. I also watched the clip of Ellen where he donated $100,000 and a free performance to poor students at a school in Las Vegas. That was very charitable of him. Put into perspective though, what is $100,000 to someone whose net worth is nearing $100 million?

Bieber started out as a cute kid who could sing, but he seems to be so strongly influenced by black performers that he emulates them. He’s no Usher, John Legend, Seal, or Michael Jackson, artists with their own particular style and sound.

I’m sorry, there is just something wrong about a baby-faced white kid, his pants slung far below his waist, as he tries to saunter on stage singing as if he is black. He isn’t. If he can sing, I didn’t notice. I’ve heard American Idol contestants that sounded better.

In my opinion, if Justin Bieber has a future in the music business, he should develop his own style and his own brand and stop trying to be a wannabe.

Be safe on Halloween

2011-10-13T11:32:00.000-05:00

Image via WikipediaFor so many people, Halloween is their favorite day of the year.

Maybe I have just become a crotchety old woman, because I don’t necessary share that view. There may be a little of that, but mostly, I am just saddened by the way things have changed in my lifetime.

Halloween was a magical time for me

While I have fond childhood memories of Halloween and I loved participating in the seasonal festivities when my two children were young, times are very different today. Attitudes have changed. Horror and violence seems to permeate our society. The world is a much scarier place than it used to be. Much of the innocence during the time of my youth is gone.

Like all kids, trick-or-treating for me was just so much fun. Not only was it all about the candy and playing dress-up, but it was also all about endurance. Trick-or-treating reinforced the lesson that we must earn the things we want. There were no hours imposed back then, so we were able to go out from dawn until dusk, picking up as much candy as we could.

It was especially fun when Halloween fell on a Saturday. I can’t count how many times my older brother visually mapped a course for us so we could swing home to empty our bags, only to go out to fill them up again, without much back-tracking where we’d already been. When I was really little, we lived in the City of Chicago, in the Back-of-the-Yards neighborhood.

I’ve seen those very neighborhoods where we used to innocently collect candy house-to-house, on the news. Gunshots are commonplace. Murder happens on a much-too frequent basis. It is certainly not the same place it was when I was a kid. I cannot imagine what it would be like to be a child there today.

When I was seven, we moved to the suburbs. Safety was never a concern when I was a kid—at least that I was aware of. I recall some of those outings on Halloween. Once I was a sailor, dressing in my father’s old Navy uniform. Another time, I wore my cousin’s prom dress. I was a princess. We never considered buying a costume. We always used what we had; we always improvised.

Fun with the kids

Halloween was big when my kids were young too. I recall the parties at school when all the kids dressed up, usually in homemade costumes. Their grade school would hold a parade where all the costumed kids would walk dutifully around the school grounds. Some of the moms and neighborhood seniors would come to admire them. Then they would have a party in their classrooms. Some of the costumes were really clever.

We lived in a small town, where everyone knew each other. The neighbors pretty much watched over the kids. Homemade goodies still appeared in trick-or-treat bags. That isn’t advisable anymore. In fact, it is now recommended not to eat, say an apple, because people have actually placed razor blades inside them.

I think my dislike for Halloween began when my daughter came home from school one year with a tube of fake blood one of her friends had given her. She wanted me to put it on her face so she would look really scary. I refused. I told her there was no way I wanted to see her beautiful face covered in blood—fake or not.

Even when my kids outgrew it, Halloween was still fun for me. I worked for a local newspaper, so at times, I took pictures of some of the most interesting costumes.

I enjoyed watching some of the little kids amble up the steps of our big, front porch in their often over-sized costumes. Often times the little ones were accompanied by their parents. Seeing them had an atmosphere of being like visiting with neighbors. As the little hands reached into our big plastic pumpkin filled with candy bars, gum, and suckers, it was like they were on a mission. Most of them were polite and said thank you before they walked away. If they didn’t their parents would remind them.

Halloween started to lose its luster for me

Every year there were more and more kids. It was hard to judge how much candy to buy. It started to get really expensive. Almost every year we had to sneak to the local grocery store to buy another bag or two, just to get through the night. Sometimes the store ran out too. The designated time was usually only three hours, but in that time, it was often non-stop kids that came in droves. Many were unknown to me. Some were clearly not of an appropriate age for trick-or-treating. Not all of the kids originated in our town; they came from the country and even other towns, by car. The traffic became horrendous.

Finally when the porch light went out at the designated time, to signify that trick-or-treat was officially over, the little witches and goblins returned home to admire their stash.

That was when the trouble would begin. In our small town, when the police were summoned, it was usually for petty incidents of smashing pumpkins, stealing lawn decorations, or other types of mischief. But that isn’t always the case, according to crime statistics. There are real concerns for kids these days.

So many people are armed with weapons; some are concealed, some not. Not only does it seem that people are less protective of kids, but they are less tolerant of them as well. Violence is glorified on television, in video games, and in music. Horror is celebrated. We seem to be totally desensitized to violence in general. An unhealthy obsession with death and destruction seems to accompany Halloween.

I’m not certain when Casper the friendly ghost turned into Freddie Kreuger, but I know I just don’t like it. I abhor violence of any kind. Crimes have become more heinous than ever before. And crime statistic generally show an increase on Halloween.

I know kids today probably love Halloween as much as I did in my youth, but for me, the thrill has been replaced with extreme caution.

So how ever you plan to celebrate Halloween, please just stay safe.

Looks fascinating, doesn't it?

2011-09-28T14:16:00.000-05:00

l. to r. Ryan, Kenni, Kasey, and John

Sometimes I really have to wonder about my family.

This was the scene in the living room the other night, quite the distraction from a good night of television viewing. My husband John, that's him on the right, saw three of our four girls first. They were obviously enchanted by something on the ceiling. We couldn't see a thing, so we were really perplexed about what was so enticing up there.

Finally, I looked up again only to see a bug walking along the tiny craters of our popcorn ceiling. Gosh I hate that stuff, but it was here when we bought the house. I have no idea whatever happened to regular drywall.

At any rate, apparently this brave critter was hiding behind one of the popcorn kernals, probably aware that our kitties would make short work of any critter of the non-feline or canine variety. The poor thing was probably hanging on up there for dear life.

Finally, John rescued us all, paper towel in hand, as he squished the thing.

Alas, all the excitement was over, but not before I could grab the camera to capture the scene for all eternity.

By the way, there is one more cat in our household-- JR--and a dog named Shadow, although they were amusing themselves in other ways at the time.

So this is Autumn…

2011-09-24T12:12:00.000-05:00

I don’t mind saying that the coming of Autumn is a relief after the blisteringly hot summer we have just experienced here in Arkansas.
Probably the best way to measure the summer of 2011 would be in my garden. Sad place…I’ve had some real challenges since moving to the natural state, from the Illinois bread basket of the nation, but this year was the worst.
This year’s challenge has been the deer that ate all the fruit and tops off my tomato plants. But even absent the hungry rogue deer, I can’t imagine that I would have seen many home grown veges.
But it isn’t over ‘til its over. As the growing season winds down, my tomato plants are flowering once again. Things are looking good in the garden.
Flowers, severely pruned thanks to rogue deer family, are growing once again, and looking vibrant. The last rose of summer syndrome has taken over the garden once again. For me, that just translates into pure joy.

Got Quirks?

2011-09-21T13:21:00.001-05:00

Image via WikipediaI suppose we all have our quirks. I never realized some of my own, until I started to really think about it.

This morning, while eating a bagel, it dawned on me that I always eat the bottom of the bagel first; I leave the top of the bagel for last. I have become Robert Barone!

He was the character played by Brad Garrett on the vintage hit comedy, Everybody Loves Raymond. Robert's quirky habit was to touch his chin with his food before putting it into his mouth to eat it. I always thought that was weird. I'm not much different, since I now realize that I have to look at the underside of my bagel before deciding which is the right side to eat first.

I do have a method to my madness, however. The bottom of a bagel is usually bigger; it is crispier when it is hot, fresh from the toaster. The top is smaller, and less dense, so it stays crisp longer.

I started thinking about it and realized there are some other "rules" that I happen to live by:

When eating a hot dog, the opening of the bun has to be on the left side. I have no idea why, but it just doesn't feel right the other way.

The toilet paper always has to roll from the top down. My daughter describes this behavior as a family trait. Apparently she has inherited the 'toilet paper from the top' gene.

When eating corn on the cob--and this is tricky--the kernels must be eaten from left to right, one row at a time. When holding the cob the large side must be on the left.

If there are two pieces of candy, and one is bigger than the other, I will always eat the smallest one first, savoring the best for last.

The same holds true for crackers. The broken ones are eaten first, leaving those fully in-tact for last.

When cooking, I always use is the right front burner.

When putting on shoes, first both socks, then both shoes, right one first.

I prefer pizza cut into squares, rather than like pieces of pie.

I'm sure there are many more examples of my own quirky behavior, but I'm at a loss as to what they are right now. I wonder how many people think about these things? I asked my husband his thoughts on the subject.

He rolled his eyes a bit and said simply, "I don't pay any attention."

Do you do things every day that others might consider quirky? Have you ever thought about such behavior? Let me know. I'm really curious.

We must remember the whole story of 911

2011-09-13T08:55:00.000-05:00

Image via Wikipedia
For the husband who told his wife I love you one last time before his plane went down in a field, for the wife who stopped in the stairs to call her husband to say I will love you forever, for the mothers and fathers who kissed their kids goodbye the morning they died, for the policemen who rushed in with the firemen to help get others out only to die themselves, for the soldiers who fought back and lost their lives. today, tomorrow, ten years from now, we will remember.

This statement was posted on my Facebook page by a well-meaning friend on the morning of Sept. 11, 2011, to commemorate the tenth anniverary of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, and Pentagon.

While I agree wholeheartedly with these sentiments and vow that we will always remember that terrible morning when a country lost her innocence, this is not the whole, complete story. We must not forget some of the hideous results that followed that horrible day.

We went to war with a country that had nothing to do with the events of Sept. 11. We went to war based on lies.

In Iraq alone, since March 19, 2003 when the occupation of Iraq began, there have been 4,474 members of the military who have died. Of those who survived, 320,000 veterans have significant brain injuries. How many came home missing limbs? How many committed suicide?

Yet, that pales in comparison to the loss to the Iraqi people killed due to the U.S. invasion of Iraq. That staggering number of dead is upwards of 1.4 million people, which also includes mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, sisters, and brothers. There were also 348 journalists and 448 academics killed in Iraq. This is according to the website, http://antiwar.com/casualties/list.php

I for one, will not forget them either. Nor will I forget that they were murdered as surely as the victims in the World Trade Center, Pentagon, and aboard Flight 93. The worst part is that they were murdered in our name.
These staggering numbers do not even include the invasion of all other Middle Eastern countries in what has resulted in the longest and costliest military action in our history. I cannot even conceive of the financial price we've paid, because frankly, when it comes to trillions of dollars, I just can't get my head around that.

So on this solemn day, isn't it time to consider that perhaps there is a better way to solve our problems? I mourn for the loss from that horrible day, but I also weep for those who have died because of it. I certainly hope we remember the entire story.

Computer woes solved!

2011-08-13T11:51:00.001-05:00

I cannot begin to total all the hours I have spent trying to get my ancient computer to operate efficiently, or at some times, even at all. My husband and I, each have at least 20 years experience with computers. We devoted countless hours and all we have learned over the past 20 years to try to solve my problems. It still wasn't enough. Last Saturday, thanks to an offer at Staples that we just couldn't refuse, we broke down and bought a new computer.

That was a week ago. I am now happy to say that I've finished downloading, transferring, and even tweaking some of my favorite old programs. I am writing this blog post on my new computer (and old software). I'm getting to know and understand Windows 7. I'm sure that in time, I will be as thrilled with it as I have all the previous versions I've used (all of them).

It is pure joy to be able to turn the computer in the morning and watch it start, as it was intended. My old computer refused to do that. It would restart itself, intermittently, sometimes six or seven times, before it finally loaded my desktop.

This new computer, by Hewlett-Packard, has much more memory on board too, so I can listen to music, play a game, and download incoming mail, all at the same time.

I've decided that one of my favorite things is tweaking software. I might even be addicted to it, if that is possible. While function of a program is of course the most important, to me, that is followed only by how it displays. With a tendency toward art, color is very important to me. The right color can change my mood; brighten my day. It can also have the opposite effect, if it just isn't right.

I tweaked my new Windows 7 to use a desktop theme based on my favorite photo--a sunflower that I shot myself and that I happen to love. Other colors are set to a pale lime green with partial transparency. Nice!

When I started my Microsoft Office 2003 software, I opened MS Word. The program displayed a hideous bright blue color that was painful to look at. It was oblivious to the pretty theme I had just created. I'm a writer. Trying to write when the ugly color on the screen stabs the eyes is not a good thing. When I ran this program on my old Windows XP-loaded computer, I was able to tweak all the colors of the various components. But, with Windows 7, the theme default colors don't translate into Office programs.

So, to have that bright blue from MS Office in the way; well, that would never do. I finally found a tweak online that I tried and it worked. It involved changing the setting for default colors in the Office 2003 settings back to a more pleasing gray that blends nicely with my other theme colors.

By the way, I've tried to retrace my steps so I could give a shout out and hearty thank you to the brilliant person that revealed this illusive tip, but I can't find it again.

If that person ever sees this post, my heartfelt thanks.

This summer sucks!

2011-08-04T08:13:00.000-05:00

It's official--I don't like summer--at least not this summer anyway.

With temperatures hovering well into the triple digits for days--as high as 114º yesterday--things are looking pretty grim around here. Most of my plants are dead; only one or two flowers remain close to the porch. That is only because I water them. Even my house plants on the shaded front porch are suffering even though I water at least every other day. There will be no fresh tomatoes to can this year--at least not from my garden. I am beginning to feel like a shut-in because it is just too hot to go outside.

Thank goodness for Netflix. We have taken to watching movies during hot afternoons or evenings.

The weather has taken its toll on the wildlife as well. Deer have actually come onto the front porch to eat my flowers. That may not be weather related--it might just have to do with the rascals thinking they can get away with gourmet dining at my expense. They already ate a hibiscus and newly-planted crab apple tree.

Their behavior does seem rather odd, however. For a time they were here every day. There was a buck, a doe, and two fawns. I haven't seen any of them lately. I'm sure they abandoned our desert landscape in favor of river or lakeside property. And who can blame them?

The hummingbirds which generally flurry from flower to flower and to the sugar-water feeders we keep on the porch, are now just sitting listlessly on the feeder, their long beaks parted. It is so sad. This morning while watering my plants, I found one had died in a pot of coleus. Just yesterday I saw her perched on that pot.

We have tried to keep the bird bath full and cool.

I have always been fond of the rain, which is now so scarce. The drought is getting very serious. The last nice rain we had was in June. I can barely remember the dance of the raindrops and gentle sounds, not to mention the smell of it. Chanel No. 5 has nothing on the scent of rain in the woods.

There has been some rain in the area; showers and some storms have popped up on radar images. And we did get a few drops the other night, but it was hardly enough to wet the sidewalk. The clouds seem to form close by only to go some place else to release their precious moisture. Instead, the outdoors now smells like a newly-mown hay field--which is in reality just dying Bermuda grass. It is hard to believe that we enjoyed 11 straight days of rain yielding more than 30 inches just a few months ago.

As August marches on, there will be more moderate temperatures, at least for a little while. It won't be long before I harangue about how cold it is outside and how I feel like a recluse again. Funny how that works?

It isn't just the weather that promises annoyance. During this respite from the out of doors, the news was all about our country's political divide and lack of compromise among the nation's leaders. During the winter months, we can look forward to the 2012 campaign season which promises to highlight perhaps a greater political divide.

Yes, thank goodness for Netflix.

I've lost my best friend.

2011-07-15T09:33:00.001-05:00

At the risk of sounding like one of those crazy old cat ladies, I can honestly say that my heart is broken by the loss of my best friend--my cat named Emily.

Emily died of natural causes, at home, Monday, July 11.

I'm proud to be a crazy old cat lady. I have no shame in saying that Emily was my beloved pet and trusted companion for more than 16 years. Through thick and thin, she has always been a comfort. We seemed to simply understand one other.

For the last couple years, Emily's health was failing. She no longer used the litter box, but instead, became paper-trained. It was difficult sometimes to care for a sick cat, especially since my husband and I have four others in our household--kittens whose birthday was the day Emily died. Their mother lives here too, but she lives both inside and outside.

Despite the extra work and mess, I refused to end Emily's life for my own convenience, especially when she was still able to find pleasure in living. She had good days and bad days, but I believe she remained a happy cat until the end.

I gladly did whatever I could to make her comfortable.

Emily didn't just like to be held, she liked to cuddle. She would reach her paws around my neck, like a hug. She came when I called her. So many times she curled up on my lap as I read a book or watched television. When quilting, she always laid on the fabric.

Emily came into our family many years ago to fill my heart after the loss of another beloved pet, our collie, Howard. Howard had a story too, but that is for another time.

A friend took me to the home of a woman who ran a shelter in her home in Kankakee, IL. She had many cats, but I felt indifferent; perhaps it was too soon. She said she had one more, but she was in quarantine. She was recovering from an eye infection, but was due to be introduced back into the 'population.'

One look at this beautiful, little, grey fur ball, and my heart melted. It really was love at first sight. She was the one. I named her Emily after a dear friend.

Emily has always been there. When my daughter got her own apartment; when my son moved away; when we relocated from Illinois to Arkansas, Emily was always a comfort. I can't count how many times I cried into her fur. I recall the long drive when we moved--her cat carrier was buckled into the seat next to me. For most of the trip we held hands. I was so worried about her, but she did great. We had many conversations in those long hours.

Emily is now buried at the edge of our cedar grove in a grave marked with a bouquet of pink, plastic carnations, in full view of the back deck.

Rest in peace, my Emily.

Stuffed Portobellos just the way I like them

2011-06-20T10:06:00.000-05:00

I just love mushrooms; they can be cooked just about any way.

Last week at the Farmer's Market, I came across these beautiful portobello mushrooms, discounted because they were picked the day before. Gotta love that kind of value.

I looked through cookbooks to find a recipe to use for stuffing them, but none of them appealed to me. Since none of them quite fit the bill, I decided to improvise.

First, I cut off the mushroom stems, and put them into the freezer for soup stock. I brushed the caps to ensure they were clean. Using a spoon, I gently scraped out the gills, which makes more room in the caps for the stuffing. I brushed them with olive oil and placed them into the oven, cap side up at 350º for 10 minutes while I made the stuffing.

I used a tomato, diced; a garlic clove, finely diced; a few fresh basil leaves, cut into thin strips; 1/4 cup of Balsamic vinegar; a splash of Extra virgin olive oil; a handful of Panko bread crumbs, enough to balance the liquid consistency; some salt and pepper.

Depending on your taste, any of these ingredients can be varied.

Upon stuffing all of the mushroom caps, I topped them with shredded Mozzarella cheese and shredded Parmesan cheese.

I returned the mushrooms to the oven to cook until the cheese melted.

These were so delicious. Now that my tomatoes are starting to ripen, and the basil is growing well, I think it will be back to the Farmer's Market this week for more mushrooms.

Visit the caves--a must see

2011-06-16T12:45:00.000-05:00

My daughter, Jenny and her fiance, Mike came to visit us from Illinois this week.

One of the places we had to visit was Blanchard Springs Caverns. They had never been there before, though my husband John and I are frequent visitors. Just about whenever anyone comes to visit, the caves are always a must see.

The caverns are spectacular, but they aren't the only draw. The scenic drive on AR 5 from Mountain Home is so beautiful.

I have lived in Arkansas for nearly seven years, and I will never take for granted the beauty that is all around me. It abounds here in the natural state. By the way, I love calling Arkansas by its moniker because to me, there is nothing better than 'natural.' I am honored to live in a state that prides itself in being natural.

The caverns' environs were even more enticing than normal, since we've had such an abundance of rain. The creek was rushing and was so typically Arkansas--beautiful. I truly love Blanchard Spring and Mirror Lake. I wish such a setting was in my own backyard. We have the forest, and even a similar water feature, but only when it rains. It has been pretty spectacular lately, keeping the window open at night as the water rushed rapidly down the hillside and on to the river.

I feel such a sense of pride when I visit this government facility. Our national parks and its amenities are something to be heralded, especially in these times of economic stress, foreign intervention and all other national issues.

I think Jenny and Mike were surprised by what they saw. A living cave is not something that is easily imagined. The tour is always informative, professional, and interesting.

The Ozarks has endured a very rainy season

2011-05-29T16:15:00.001-05:00

Despite the sunny skies and warm temperatures, north-central Arkansas is still reeling from the effects of a series of torrential rains. Flooding continues.


Debris floats in the murky floodwater; a public dock is too far away to access

The White River basin has experienced so much rainfall that the flood-retention potential of the reservoirs on the White River system have exceeded their capacity. There has just been too much rain resulting in too much water.

Following one of the many articles in the local newspaper, The Baxter Bulletin recently, I noticed a comment about the dams not having any effect at all on flooding. The commenter suggested that it is almost like there aren't any dams at all.

I have to take issue with that. The dams have worked well. Yet, when they were designed, it was impossible to predict the kind of rain that has been experienced this year. I cannot imagine how horrific and widespread the flooding would have been without them. More lives would have been impacted and undoubtedly more lives would have been lost.

Controlling the White River basin is complicated, but basically, it began at Beaver Lake. With so much rain, The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers had to release water from the spill gates from the dam at Beaver Lake (near Eureka Springs, AR). The rush of water compromised the storage capacity downstream at Table Rock Lake, (Branson, MO) which also experienced record rainfalls. Those flood gates too had to be opened. When that occurred, people living along Lake Taneycomo, near Branson, endured major flooding. Because of the economic impact to Branson, affecting numerous homes and businesses, this became a huge news event.

The torrent continued to make its way into Bull Shoals Lake, which caused a need to open the spill gates at the dam there.

As I write this, the flood gates remain open at Bull Shoals, allowing 58,000 cubic feet of water per second to rush into the White River below. All 17 flood gates are open. It is a sight to see and hear.

Bull Shoals dam releases water into the White River

Awesome power was evident in sight and sound

Sadly, the result is high water in the generally tranquil waters of the White between Bull Shoals and Norfork. Homes and docks have been inundated by the swiftly rushing, but crystal clear, cool water.

We had almost 40 inches of rain in a less than two-week period. The rain was amazing. I have never seen anything like it.

While I feel for all those whose property is in a low-lying area, I have no sympathy for the arrogant and/or foolish people who built homes practically on the water's edge. The smart people, such as the pioneers who built the Wolf House, built it on a bluff overlooking the river. They still had their view of the river, but were protected by the nearly annual occurrence back then. They knew then and we should know now that rivers will always flood despite man's efforts. Man cannot overpower, out think, or out maneuver Mother Nature, so he shouldn't even try.

Except for the last day of this rainy spell, I have to say I enjoyed every minute of the rainy weather. Before this started, we were suffering from mild drought conditions. Rain was not something that came easily last summer. I used to watch out the window as clouds formed and then poof--they dried up and disappeared. It was depressing to watch all my plants shrivel and die. Flowers failed to bloom. Trees went into early dormancy. We even lost some. The vegetable garden was the worst of all. So, when the rains began this spring, it was time to rejoice. I had just planted the garden. It was thriving; everything was lush and green. We needed the rain.

Somewhere along the way, we crossed the line. I recall being just a little cranky on that last rainy day. I'm not sure if it was because I knew the rain was going to end, I missed seeing the sunshine, or if I had just reached a personal limit. I'm sure I would have continued my enjoyment of those dark, moody days, had it not been for the severe storms that accompanied the heavy rain. The severity of the weather hit way too close to home, as we are only 80 miles from Joplin, MO where the death toll continues to climb, a week after the storm.

I have always been fascinated with flooding which hearkens back to when I was a small child, living on the south side of Chicago. My family lived on a street that dead-ended at a set or railroad tracks. A pedestrian viaduct below the the tracks allowed access to the other side. It was the way my brother and I walked to school every day. When the viaduct was flooded, we had to walk over the tracks instead. That was normally tabu, but was the only way during a flood. Such a forbidden trek was very exciting to a six-year old child. Apparently, that stimulation has followed me to adulthood.

Lucky to have survived this Ozarks springtime

2011-05-27T12:25:00.002-05:00

It was so dry earlier this year that the water level in the lakes nearby were so low that watery coves dried up. Some boats, like these at a marina in Udall, MO still moored at their docks, sat in the mud.

It all began to change in mid-April, when the rain began.

Image via Wikipedia The rain promised to aid the annual resurgence of flora and fauna. Trouble is, it didn't stop raining. At one point after a night of heavy rain, the rain gauge read '14 inches.' That was followed by four inches and then three inches. That continued for almost two weeks. I've since lost count. Suffice it to say we are now close to 40 inches of rain in a little over a month. Because we live on a hillside, we have had no ill effects from all that rain. In fact, I loved every minute of it. Our backyard resembled a tropical rain forest. To me, there is no better smell than the woods after a rain.

Such heavy rain combined with a huge snow melt in the northern states, all draining into the Mississippi River, caused record-setting flooding in the nation's largest river and its tributaries. The great flood of 2011 has claimed thousands of acres and produced millions of dollars in damage in several states.

In mid April, heavy moisture rising from the Gulf of Mexico with unseasonably warm temperatures collided with the cold dry air from the north. Fueled by an ambitious jet stream the result was an outbreak of severe storms.
Image via WikipediaOn April 26, a tornado aimed at a major population center. Severe damage occurred in St. Louis, MO. Though there were no serious injuries or deaths reported, the 22-mile storm path devastated property. Even Lambert Airport took a direct hit. Both the airport and the interstate highway that feeds it were closed for a time.

A day later, a severe weather outbreak wreaked havoc on the southern states killing 232 people in six states. It seemed to zero in on Tuscaloosa, AL when an EF4 twister claimed 131 lives.

On Sunday, May 22, Mother Nature's destructive side spawned the devastating EF5 tornado that decimated huge chunks of Joplin, MO. To date, 126 people are known dead with hundreds still missing or unaccounted for. The Joplin tornado now eclipses the death toll from the 1953 tornado in Flint, MI, making it the eighth-deadliest U.S. tornado on record. More than 500 people have been killed in tornado outbreaks this Spring.

A rain-swollen White River downstream from Bull Shoals dam

In my locale, the tremendous amounts of rainfall has caused local flooding in low-lying areas. Dams built throughout the White River basin to store flood water until it can safely be released have filled to their brim as heavy rain has been relentless. Just a few months ago we couldn't wring a drop of moisture from the sky. Now it seems as if a spigot is stuck in the 'on' position.

Even though our little acreage has been relatively untouched by the most severe weather, these events have been too close for comfort. It has been unnerving to be suddenly awakened during a sound sleep by the blare of the weather radio toning its many warnings. From flash flooding to severe thunderstorms to tornado watches and warnings, the nerves are frayed by this very active season.

I am grateful for the technology that warns us, allowing enough time to take action to protect ourselves. In Joplin, there was about a 25-minute warning before the storm hit. Undoubtedly lives were saved.

During a severe weather event, I monitor the events all around. As long as the satellite receiver can retain a signal, the television is tuned to the weather channel. When the weather is severe, the local stations break into regular programming and provide minute-to-minute coverage. Even though we are in Arkansas, our local channels originate in Springfield, MO. I have to give a shout out to KY3 which seems to do the best job for us. I noticed that even some of my favorite stations returned to regular programming once Springfield was out of danger. We were still threatened however. KY3 continued its weather coverage until the threat had passed. I also keep my laptop computer on Intellicast, my personal favorite weather site. It updates the radar regularly and allows me to zoom into my own backyard. I can literally watch the radar as the storm approaches our house. My personal preparedness also includes a portable police scanner, so we can monitor local emergency traffic.

I am not complaining. For me, the more than thirty inches of rain that has fallen over our little five acres on a hillside has brought nothing but personal pleasure.

Trees once ailing from drought conditions are no longer stressed. In fact, all of the plants in the yard this year are thriving. The vegetable garden shows great promise.

There was one storm during these numerous events that produced gusty winds and quarter-sized hail. Even as we cringed at the ice balls hitting our windows, we know we were lucky.

The damage was obvious, but not severe. The bleeding hearts come to mind. Beneath the eaves, I would have thought they would have been protected. Instead, their once show-stopping beauty was marred by the overnight storm. They looked as though they were trampled upon. A beautiful crop of purple iris and their neighboring Mock Orange and Azalea bushes were broken and more horizontal than vertical. Some of the tomato plants in the vegetable garden had been broken and battered. A few petunias showed some battle scars on their otherwise velvety-textured petals. Fortunately a quick pruning was all they needed. Since it is early in the growing season, they will easily compensate for the damage.

Probably the most obvious resultant was the scattering of new and fully-grown oak leaves. The trees had finally fully dressed with its neon foliage--in a process that seemed to last an eternity after their long winter of nakedness. The hail pelted the trees as the wind whipped the tree tops. Small branches were broken. Leaves, filled the yard. No single area was spared from the lawn, to the gardens, and even onto the covered porch.

We have been lucky. Tornado season is not yet over. I hope that luck holds out for the rest of the season.

Computer functionality at risk

2011-05-17T09:21:00.000-05:00

A facimilie of a motherboard with the CMOS battery at right...image via Wikipedia Things got worse in computer land this weekend. Once my new hard drive was installed in my dinosaur of a computer, things still weren't quite right.

I have been having problems on startup--serious problems. Saturday morning, when I attempted to turn on the beast, the startup sequence was interrupted by itself--again and again and again. Windows wouldn't boot.

I couldn't diagnose the problem with safe start or check what was in the BIOS (basic input/output system) because I couldn't use the keyboard. It plugged into the Universal Serial Bus (USB) port, making it a function of Windows. Because the startup hadn't progressed as far as Windows, it wasn't yet accessible.

I had read that computers sometimes have a problem with their battery, much like that which operates a wrist watch. They don't last forever.

When I told John, my husband/computer guru that the startup routine reminded me of a dead or dying battery, he listened intently. Then when I told him the date was incorrect on my desktop, he knew right away that the problem was the CMOS (Complementary Metal-Oxide Semiconductor) battery, which is located on the motherboard.

John located a place to purchase a new one and went on his way.

When he returned, once again he braved his way back into the nether region of my computer. The fix was easy. Once again, he successfully repaired the thing. I am happy to report that all is well, it is running better than it had in months.