THE DAY I POISONED MY HUSBAND

Let me first set the stage. 

I had left the medical field to pursue my love of designing mainly as a fiber artist. 

I had to set a routine for myself as in a factory setting, line assembly to speak. One day I would do all my sewing and tea coffee staining. Then place items on metal trays and set them out in the Florida sun to dry.

Learning to be frugal with supplies and cost-effective I began to make my tea/coffee/vanilla solution in a huge stock pot. 

The solution consisted of a box of tea bags, a small jar of instant coffee and a bottle of vanilla. Into the pot filled with water. 

This concoction would be brought to a boil, then turned down. One by one each item was dropped into the solution and then all stirred and left to sit for a bit. 

One day I decided to take empty Diet Soda Bottles and fill them with any leftover solution. Then place it in the very back of the refrigerator. This would ensure the solution lasts many weeks.

Now, the next stage of my story.

My husband Jerry is not a "sipper" of drinks. He doesn't know how to take his time drinking soda, water, or whatever. He gulps and that is putting it nicely. Many times, I would observe him filling a glass with his Diet Soda and gulping it down, not stopping for a breath of air.

So, the stage has been set. Here we go.

On a certain day, I was off from the shop while my partner worked. This was a day for me to produce as many products as possible I could. My sewing/studio room was in the front of the home with a window that looked out over our huge lawn. I enjoyed watching God's creation while sewing in front of this window. 

Well, one day Jerry had come home, and I heard him gently padding into my studio and quietly asking "did you put something in one of my soda bottles?"

Oh my goodness, I stopped sewing, saw the image in my mind, and began laughing. Needless to say, he didn't think it was so funny.

I truly don't remember how much time lapsed until I could conduct myself properly to leave the room and head to the kitchen.

When I finally made it to the kitchen, I saw the Diet Soda Bottle and a glass with the last dregs of my concoction sitting in a puddle on the bottom. I lost it, going down on my knees and clinging to the counter my hysterical laughter erupted again. 

I honestly can't remember how long or days it was before I could look at my poor husband without laughing. 

You've had those moments haven't you when a single word or remembrance brings a gut-filled laughter to you?

Needless to say, from that day forth I would remove the labels from the bottles and write in black marker "tea/coffee solution."

Did my husband forgive me, well I guess he did? We have now been together 38, so I guess he has. Did it make him sick, am sure it did. Not only did the concoction have all that tea/coffee/vanilla in it, but all the lint and threads from the materials.

We learn from our mistakes, don't we?

My poor husband, he has put up with a lot of my designing chaos through the years.

Blessings. 

               GRANDMA'S  SCRAP  BAG 

One of the dearest memories I have of grandma who raised me from the age of 2, is her sewing talent that she passed on to me.

I can remember from a very tender age, sitting cross-legged in her living room with her large muslin bag of fabric scraps, fingering each piece of fabric.  This magical bag intrigued me with all the colors, designs, and textures. I could imagine what each had once been, for those were the days that clothing was not thrown out but recycled. Nothing was wasted, cutting off the buttons, and zippers and sizing the garment into pieces that could be incorporated into something new.

So, I call myself a "fiber artist, sewist (the modern term for sewer)."

A while back while reading in one of my devotionals, it was mentioned the difference between "create creator and maker maker."

God is the Creator, He created something (actually all of His creation) from nothing.

Webster's states - to bring into existence from nothing.

Make or maker is a person, artist, that makes something from preexisting substances. 

So, I have lately begun to cease using the word "create" when speaking of my artwork, be it in watercolors, fiber arts, quilting, you get the picture.

The past 4 years I have been striving to use up all my fabric and fabric scraps and not buy any new fabric. This has been an interesting journey. 

First, you must know I have a teeny bit of OCD, so each fabric scrap is color coded into a gallon zip lock bag, and the different bags are stored in large plastic bins waiting to be used.

Lately, I have been sewing fabric quilt blocks using the strip quilting method.  I pull out a zip lock bag with my color choice and begin making new quilt blocks.

In my next 2 photos you will see my "thread" work. That's right, I collect the different cast off threads from my work and keep them in a plastic bad. Then, I carefully lay the threads out into a pattern I like, covering this all with a fine mesh fabric. Using a basting thread, I go over the entire piece with whatever design I want. In my last photo you will see a postcard I made with this technique.

                 How very blessed I was to have grandma in my life, but sadly, I didn't recognize it as strongly as I do today. If any of you have read my life storybook "Father", you will understand what I mean. I can now say how I treasure my life with grandma, and especially her talents she shared with me that are so very special. Little did she know what she would be instilling in me with her huge muslin bag of fabric scraps. 

                            Thank you, God, for grandma.

                             - Meet me at the fence -

                 I HATE NEW YEARS EVE

  

This post may upset some but hear me out please.

I have never ever liked New Year's Eve. This is due to the fact that I am not finished with the present year. Time flies by so quickly. You blink and well another year is gone. Plus, the fact it ages me another year. I am simply not ready for that. Along with age comes the creeping in of gray hair to verify, yep, you're getting older.

Anyway, there is only one New Year's Eve that I can state was memorable. I had flown into Memphis to meet up with a friend and colleague from the Saudi Hospital where we worked. She had arranged for a dinner theater, then dancing and ushering in the New Year. After working up another appetite dancing this huge place put on a scrumptious breakfast buffet. Now that was the one time I can say I enjoyed New Year's Eve. 

One reason I hate the new year coming in is the fact that I have become accepting of the daily situations this year has thrown my way - go with the flow so to speak. Some bad some good, but for the most part settled in. 

Some days as the holidays from Halloween to Christmas have catapulted us towards the end of another calendar year, I have wanted to stick my leg out into the universe to slow down the rotation of the earth.  Whoa !  Wait !

I want to have longer days to enjoy loved ones more - to laugh more - to cry more - to experience more of God's amazing creation and be content with that - to learn more. I am just not ready to say goodbye to this year. 

I am not a pessimistic person but with this time of year yeah, I am.

My prayer for each of you is that you would be blessed in good times and bad time, knowing we have an awesome God that loves us so much that He gave us His son Jesus as our atonement. No matter what comes about each day, we have a creator that wants us to trust Him.

My prayer for each of you these new 365 days is that you will love more, find contentment more often in the little things, have a Joy that only God can give you as you traipse this new year that is barreling at us with unknown events.

God Bless

                     WINTER SOLSTICE

 Hush......be still.... and linger in the beautiful quiet solitude as creation descends into its wintery rest.

Snow carefully blanketing, tucking all creation into a much-needed restorative rest.

Enjoy the Winter Season as it is meant to be. A reflective time away from the cacophony of man's busyness,

A season God totally intended for His creation's good - rest. Reading an article a few weeks back brought insight to this old mind of mine. The Winter Season is supposed to be a "forced season of rest." Mankind needs rest. 

There is nothing better to usher in this special season than with the birthday of our Lord Saviour Jesus.

A new life only Jesus can give to those that will surrender to Him, repenting of our sins. Only then can we find that rest like the Winter Season depicts.

I love this time of year - the absolute aloneness - not only with my thoughts and ponderings - but with God and His creation.

                                 Shhhh - can you hear the creation song as it waits patiently for its new birth in the Spring.

A few years back I began calling our Christmas Tree the Birthday Tree - after all isn't this Jesus's birthday?

                          HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESUS 

                      MY  HOOSIER  HOME 

When I moved back to Peru and purchased my father's home from my stepmother, I meticulously set aside the Abstract on this property for a later date of research.

That research began this year and have I been pleasantly surprised by the history of this property, Miami County, and Peru.

The land was granted to Miami Chief John B. Richardville from the United States Government in 1826 as you can see by the last 3 photos. You will also notice his wife's name Pe-Me-Se-Quah. At the bottom, you will see the signature of John Quincy Adams, March 3, 1828.

There was another Miami Chief Indian Godfrey that received land here in Peru also. In fact, the entire area was owned by these two chieftains.

I had to chuckle at one point when reading the spec on the property size, it was noted from the middle of the Wabash River to the Eel River which is north of Peru.

I have always believed this house to be older than the original thought of 1897 which I have found to be true. I have found the date 1880 thus far. 

Now the interesting part as I perused the Abstract was the name Weaver kept popping up.  Hmmm....I thought....I know of the Weavers here in Peru, and one is the Peruvian Hoosier Artist Robert E. Weaver. Well, was I shocked to see the name Benton Orlando Weaver purchased this home in 1891 from a Shanabarger.  Turns out Benton O. Weaver is the grandfather to Robert E. Weaver the artist. Benton opened the grocery store next door, Golden Rule which was a grocery store until 1950.  

My father bought this property for investment in 1958 when I was just 5 years old.

In our store, you can still see the original wood shelves lining one wall. 

Of course, when moving in we did extensive remodeling inside and out, using a team from Rochester. We also removed the radiators (which I regret) to have central air. But much of the house bones are still the same.

In my photo above are the two original tethering posts. My sister Jo and I would straddle these with our skinny legs and try to get the semi-drivers to honk when passing by.

Memories and I can't help but think about memories made in this home by other generations as I climb the inside stairs, touching the well-worn wood patina of the hand railing.

So I guess you could say our home is a type of "historical" home as for a Hoosier. 

I remember when the art teacher, Wayne Taylor, at Peru High School acquired some of Robert Weaver's paintings for the school. That was a big event back then and I had no idea dad's home was once his home.

So...this is my Hoosier Home. :)

Blessings

                             MY BOOK

FATHER: My Story: Wolf/Green, Susan E.: 9798840881149: Amazon.com: Books

My life song pointing to God was always there in my life, no matter what the abuse I endured.

              

               THE HOOSIER CABINET 

This post came about from a listing on the FB Group I belong to.  Someone posted a question on the Hoosier Cabinet.

The above photo is of my oak Hoosier Cabinet in my kitchen. It is my bakers' corner. There have been other versions but the oak cabinet is my favorite.

This time of year brings back many delightful memories that spring forth. Memories of the delicious smells emanating from my grandmother's kitchen. 

The kitchen was, and in some homes today, still the hub of the home where just about any reason to congregate there is acceptable. Especially a delightful conversation over a cup of coffee or tea.

The history of the Hoosier Cabinet is interesting. The name came about because the companies manufacturing it were from Indiana during the 1890-the 1940s. 

Kitchens during this time period were built without kitchen cabinets as we know them today. The need for free-standing cabinets was a necessity, thus the free-standing workstation, Hoosier Cabinet came about. Two main companies produced the cabinet, Sellers and Hoosier Manufacturing. A few other companies also produced this cabinet, but Sellers was the most prominent.

Today, they can be found at estate sales and auctions. They are well worth purchasing. My cabinet holds all my baking needs, pans, and ingredients. My cabinet also has the flour bin and as you can see on the far right the glass sugar container. The center kneading board slides out easily. The only thing I don't like about this is that it is so short for my tall stature. Of course, ladies were much smaller back in those days. 

So, during this hibernating season, I love to think about the special times in grandma's kitchen, learning to cook and bake and doing my homework at the kitchen table. After all, the kitchen was the warmest room in the house.

Today I burn a candle on my Hoosier Cabinet shelf and sigh deeply as I walk past it and encounter the beautiful memories it all brings about.