sweet and spicy...

It looks like the rain is getting ready to start falling again. It's getting dimmer and the wind is starting to pick up. I haven't seen any drops yet.  I am definitely praying for them though.  It's been a very dry summer and early Autumn.  We need it. 

Wow, if that doesn't make me sound like an old lady.  You can almost picture me standing at the door with a cup of hot tea proclaiming those very words, while staring off into the distance.  Hair in a bun, gray in color, apron on and glasses perched on the end of my nose.  You wouldn't be too far off, I'm not holding tea, hair is too short for a bun now and I wear my glasses firmly at the top of my nose (bifocal's don't work well when they slide down your nose).   I am definitely sitting at the counter staring at the dancing red leaves on the sassafras tree thinking those very words though. And yep, my apron is on. 

It's been a busy day.  Actually a busy week.  I have a very bad habit of letting things slide when I am on a deadline, and I was on a self-imposed deadline with the "Tour of Duty" quilt.  I've spent the past few days catching up.  Yesterday, I helped my daughter at her property, today I've been playing catch up in the kitchen.  I didn't want the dairy or the jalapeno's to go bad. 

Fire Salt!!  Oh my!!

I started out super early.  I am not all together sure your house should smell like jalapeno, garlic and salt before 6 am, but... it completely happened.  Has anyone made Fire Salt?  I haven't, until today.  By 630 in the morning it had slid into the dehydrator and the house was slightly overwhelmed with the smell of it all.  Warm, spicy and salty all in one.  

half of them mashed with honey and vanilla

half of them chopped...

magic in a jar - Strawberry Jalapeno Cowboy Candy

I also managed to get a batch of Strawberry Jalapeno Cowboy Candy done up this morning.  Perfect recipe, only made 3 pints, perfect for Hubs and I.  It had some serious fire to it, tempered with the softness of the berries.  It will be wonderful in a few days.  

We had to head out for a bit, Hubs had an appointment at 10 and with his shoulder failing far faster than I am comfortable with I packed a bag with my green sweater project and drove him over. Thankfully, it's cooler and I was able to sit in the car, call my mom to chat and work on the final 6 inches of binding before sweater #2 is done.  Still about 2 inches to go, and shockingly it looks like one ball will be enough.  I'll finish it before bedtime.  

cooling cream - sour cream coming up

For now, I'm working on catching up.  Right now there is a pot of cream simmering on the stove top.  I'm attempting sour cream for the first time.  Say a prayer or send some good energy, we'll see how this goes.  I'm seriously over all the crap they are putting into the food you buy at the grocery.  Only 23 more minutes until it starts cooling and I add the starter, almost a day of fermenting and we will find out if I am successful. 

Jalapeno Peanut Brittle anyone?

Before tackling that though, I decided I'd better use the last 3 jalapeno's. I saw a recipe for Jalapeno Peanut Brittle.  It intrigued me.  I mean spicy and sweet all in one?  It's cooling right now should be ready just about the time I wrap up making the sour cream.  

Too bad I'm too full to try it.  We splurged on lunch out.  Sometimes you simply need a treat and my Asian cooking isn't that strong, yet. 

I will be almost caught up after that.  I will need to whip up a batch of butter and then I'm gonna use all the leftover milk this week to make a batch of farmers cheese.  Hubs doesn't love it, but I do.  

Waste not, want not. 

For a moment my life is moving in a fairly normal rhythm. I'm doing the things that keep our home running smoothly, taking care of Hubs and the pups and enjoying the day to day flow.  

I realized today that we are less than two weeks from surgery.  It feels super close for me, I'm sure with the amount of pain he's in, it feels like the longest years/weeks of Hubs life.  Remember as a kid waiting for Christmas, how it kept slipping further away the closer it got?  I'm sure that is how he feels.  I feel a bit more like the parent of those kiddo's... frantically trying to wrap up everything before morning crept into focus. 

Seriously?  I mean, really?????!!!

I'd noticed my low tire light on the other day, then it went off... whew must have been the weather.  It's been so stinking hot... nope, back on yesterday.  Grabbed a tire gauge and found it was more than half way empty.  Just as the frustration was welling up in my already overwhelmed system, I saw it.  I am over roofing nails!  I swear we end up repairing tires at least once a year if not more in the past few years.  Storms roll in, roofs get replaced, tires get repaired, and repeat from the start all over again. Thankfully, the place Hubs bought my tires at in April were able to squeeze us right in and fixed it right up.  I needed the win. 

I needed the time to make sure everything is ready for a rather lengthy recovery. 

I'm not whining, I'm worrying.  What if I forget something, what it I don't have it all ready.  My girl calls it hyper-fixation.  She's not wrong. 

I'm focusing hard on my lists, I can't allow myself to forget something important.  The upcoming stress needs to be handled.  Hubs needs space to heal, he needs calm, he needs everything to not have hiccups while he is healing.  We already have enough stress, enough rough edges to smooth. 

Looks like the rain decided to dance past us.  I admit I'm a bit sad.  Having spent a great deal of my life in Europe, I love rain.  It soothes me.  Oh well... 

The girl was not pleased with pop!!

I guess I should get busy, I want to finish up around 5 pm, so that I can feed my pups and relax with the last of my knitting on the sweater.  The yarn for Hubs' new slippers arrived today and that is another new skill builder for me.  I'm going to try felting for the first time ever.  I was calm, until it arrived, now restraint is not proving to be my strong suit.  We all know how I am.  

Well, from my experimental kitchen, I hope you are having a wonderful day.  I pray you are finding peace and the ability to fill your own buckets however that might be.  

Chat soon... 

much love, 

b

tour of duty...

 

The piles have dwindled to scraps, a few odd shapes here and there.  Several of the piles are gone except for a small bit that was cut off when squaring up.  The blue almost didn't make it and every bit of the blood strip was used.  

Even now, I am sitting here looking at the quilt picture in awe.  My brain still see's a pile of uniforms.  Struggling to accept the fact that it is now a large quilt, too big for any floor space in my house without moving furniture.  I had so much fun making this quilt.  I felt so blessed to be the person selected to work with someone's memories. 

Because, memories matter.  Over the years, I have put together lots of t-shirt quilts. Some containing memories of high school, and entire lifetimes,  some containing memories of dance groups and band trips. Some were more intense, the memories of a loved one gone far too soon.  I have made one for a dear friend that lost her son far too young and tragically.  Our own son-in-law when he passed away, I didn't have much, but I put them together for his youngest daughter, our precious grand daughter.  Using the flannel sheet that he slept on to fill in any gaps.  

Each time I tackle one, it is because memories matter. Every time, I find myself wrapped up in the energy of those memories. This one was absolutely not any different and at the same time it was light years away from all of the others. 

As someone whose life is filled with veterans, there have been so many members of my own family, my friends, my circles these areas are filled with veteran's and active duty members, it was deeply personal for me.  Now, I am not incredibly familiar with Marine ranks etc, so some research had to be done.  I wanted to give it the honor it deserved.  And it needed to be as perfect as I could make it. 

The start...

waiting for the cuts...

I'm sporting a few burns from the iron, those creases are serious business folks.  Jack and I spent many quality hours together.  And a minor change was needed, note to self ask more probing questions next time, and yes I do pray there is a next time. But at the end of the day, as I put the final stitches in last night and cleared space to take pictures, I prayed I had done justice and an equal service to the young man's memories. 

hello Jack, nice of you to stop by 😝

I created the pattern from a mix and match of different ideas.  It's the first time I've actually made a queen sized quilt without a pattern or solid idea.  My sketchbook is filled with drawings, thoughts, plans, colors, measurements and then all sorts of new thoughts on the project.  The changes when I didn't like the path it was going, the bits and pieces needing to flow just right. My sewing room currently looks like a tangled web of strings, frayed bits, little odd shapes of fabric and tons of scraps, a buttonholed pocket or shirt lining, a jacket collar or two, a shirt cuff or pants pocket, they are everywhere, mixed together with my ordinary projects.  

Tomorrow I will clean it, today, I will treasure the gift of making it. 

As I handed it over to the young man I made it for, I was a bit emotional.  I wanted it to be perfect for him.  I wanted the memories to shine through.  I think I did okay. I loved listening to him telling us about each patch, the different uniforms and where all they traveled to and from.  To know he served in areas that are still hopping and not exactly friendly made my heart sore.  I've had loved ones in the same area.  I've seen the damage it's done to them.  

I hope the quilt is something that will make him smile in the years to come.  I feel so blessed to have been the one selected to create his quilt.  I named the design "Tour of Duty", because that is what was reflected in it.  Other than a few minor bits, that quilt is his tour of duty.  Forest, desert, dress... those words all came up as we looked at it.  The well worn ones, the extra's.  The comfort found in the softness of the well-worn.  Listening to him and Hubs chat, two veterans sharing perspectives from two very different wars, it was a bit overwhelming.  How do you say thank you appropriately to those that risked everything?  

work in progress... I was a bit obsessed...

I'm picking up my needles for a moment, I want to finish up the green sweater that I had started a bit ago. Before long I will start on another quilt for another veteran.  A slightly different one, more along the lines of the one I made for my uncle. I hope to do many more for veterans.  Honestly, as much as I love t-shirt quilts and the like I love creating quilt patterns from memories. I will never stop making random quilts because they make me smile.  But I feel an overwhelming need to create more memory quilts. 

Ironically the first memory quilt I ever started was over 40 years ago.  It's still not finished or quilted.  It is in my sewing studio, waiting.  It is pieced from the remnants of all my daughter's clothing that I made her when she was small.  It was before I knew much about quilting, the bits were cut random, traced with ink pens and I sure didn't know anything at all about a quarter inch seam. Who knows maybe 2027 is the year it gets finished.  2026 isn't going to happen, but maybe I'll be brave enough next year. 

note my OSHA approved stool for taking pictures...

I think I might actually have to start advertising.  How else will people know that I am able to put their memories together into something beautiful for the future, that they don't have to stay in a box or bag in the basement or attic.  How will they know that most fabrics can be used in a quilt, just really depends on how washable you want it.  Heck this quilt even has a square that came from his duffel bag. 

The sweet woman that took a chance on me didn't have a fancy website to look at.  She had some pictures and my words.  And yet she trusted me with precious memories, a gift for someone that she cherished enough to want it made. 

I wish Hubs still had his uniforms, I am sure they would've made an incredible memory quilt.  I would've loved to make it to thank him.  Sadly, his are lost to time and pain. 

Pretty sure I will be able to sleep tonight.  The quilt is with it's owner, the memories are safely home.  I have some plans for the future, plans for more quilts for veterans.  So many plans.  But for now, I simply need to let my fingers rest, clean up my notes, and maybe tonight I will dream of the next quilt in the que... it's for an air force veteran. 

My needles are waiting, ya'll know me, I'm never still long. 

And to the sweet couple that trusted me with your memories, thank you.  It was such an honor. 

much love, b

a quilt...

I decided I should sit down in a big comfy chair for a bit and stretch my fingers out before I started looking like the hunchback of Notre-Dame complete with claws for hands.  I've been prepping a duffel-bag full of uniforms to start the quilt. Daily uniforms, dress uniforms, removing the bits and pieces that will create a memory of a time served.  Some of that stuff was very difficult to cut through and the scissors I am using are sharp enough to slice your fingers by sliding across an unattended blade.  

I'm down to one pair of pants.  They are the bright blue of the dress uniform.  As I have been cutting and salvaging the fabric, I have been plotting and planning.  Trying to decide the best places and orders to use each color.  I will admit, this bright blue with it's very recognizable red stripe has me a bit stumped. I thought I had it figured out, all planned and ready to use. Until I realized there was only one pair and the stripe is only on the outside.  They would have needed 6ft long legs for my plan to work.  So I am back at mentally planning it out.  I will figure it out.  The stripe might end up in the piano key border that my brain keeps insisting needs to frame the whole quilt. Who knows. 

I already know the quilt will have the middle panel, bordered by a modified trip around the world, I will create some star blocks that will include his patches and emblems.  I am a bit ignorant of the proper terminology with Marine ranks and insignia, but I am sure I can do it justice. I am not sure how I am going to include the stars, I have several different ideas and I guess it will depend on what it looks like when I get to that point in the quilt.  I have most of it worked out in my brain.  Almost time to commit!

For a small moment in time.  I am sipping my ice tea, enjoying the changing colors outside the window and timing my sweet pups time out in the sunshine.  It's been so mild that they have gotten quite spoiled with lots of outside time, today is edging back into the 80's... which means less outside time than they like.  Again, Belle is my smart girl, she will bring herself inside. Beau... That boy loves the heat (not good with seizures) and has to be almost dragged into the house. 

last night at 9 pm

My plan is to have the piecing of the quilt done by Friday.  Hubs has a few appointments this week (getting ready for surgery) so those should give me the break that my body will be craving from cutting, ironing, cutting, stitching, measuring and sewing some more. I am so excited to see how this turns out.  I am feeling very blessed to have been selected to create it.  And honestly, once I have committed with the first snip of the scissors I am a bit obsessive.  If everything goes as planned, it will be on the longarm this weekend. 

I'm really doing terrible sitting here decompressing.  I have thoughts bouncing in and out, trying desperately to write them down before they shift away into something else.  My brain is truly at the dining room table, my thoughts are deeply wrapped up with this quilt. Maybe I'll be more successful writing tomorrow... 

today at 1 pm

I'm heading back to the piles of threads and fabrics... 

what if...

The other day I was listening to a random podcast they were talking about chasing dreams.  Then a random reel showed up... asking what you would do if you knew you couldn't fail. For a few days now that has been busy in my brain. 

What if?  I'm sure you've asked yourself that very question.  Maybe in terms of a dream, an idea, a hope.  Questioning some unseen outcome.  I am firmly starting to believe that anymore we are programmed from a very young age to accept that dreams are simply something to linger and cause discontent, not an actionable path and journey.  

It feels like we are pre-programmed to accept that those very dreams aren't a road map, a goal, something to strive for.  Because if we don't want to follow them, then we stay stagnant. Pliable, controllable. We are not someone to worry about if we are moving in lock step, if we are doing things in the accepted manner.  If we aren't pushing boundaries and chasing different rainbows then our choices don't make waves for others to navigate in the systems that surround us. 

I've never fit inside the boundaries.  I can't color inside the lines.  Sometimes I really want to, I want to be just another brick in the wall as Pink Floyd used to sing.  I want to be normal, sort of, well not really. 

I'm 61.  This morning long before the sun has considered rising I was outside in my garden.  Sipping coffee, staring at the stars above and finding pure contentment in my often chaotic world. I watched my pups rush down the stairs to let some invisible intruder know that this was not their morning to be in our yard.  I let my mind wander for a few minutes.  Holding a coffee that was far too hot to be trying to drink, taking baby sips and pretending that I had let it chill for a moment or two in my impatience. 

I'm 61.  The other day Hubs made a comment while we were walking, that he had more years behind him, than ahead of him.  It hit, hard.  Not just for him, but for me also.  It made me pause.  It started the conversation that has been rattling in my mind.  Dashing off into an entirely different directions all at the same time. 

For most of my 61 years, I have spent the majority of my life in a serious people pleasing mode.  I'm gonna say that is probably the operating system I received as I entered this life.  Don't make waves, don't be different.  Don't listen to that drummer in your spirit that is playing a different beat from the people surrounding you. Shut it off, ignore it.  Fit in.

The problem as I see it, is that I don't fit in.  And frankly, I don't want to. 

The Dixie Chicks had a song when they were trying to mount their comeback. "Not Ready to Make Nice".  Different lines have been playing in my head, mixing and dancing with my own thoughts lately.  The circumstances of their song are different than how my brain is processing it. But I truly am not ready to make nice anymore, I'm not ready to back down.  I want to be who I am.  

I want to chase dreams and be comfortable being an extremely social introvert that is always willing to discuss quilting, knitting, crochet, soap making, herb and garden growing, and of course any form of natural/healthy living.  Count me in! 

I briefly mentioned the quilt I have been commissioned to make.  I am going to start it this morning once the coffee kicks in. It will be queen sized, it will be made from a veteran's uniforms and a panel that represents his service to our country.  I am so excited for this project.  I love that I have a basic direction and then the rest of it is up to me.  I made a choice to charge a lesser fee than most other's would charge.  Not because I was trying to undercut them, I definitely wasn't.  But because to me, it's about the person.  It isn't just a job.  You can't always define things by an hourly wage, when I did that math, heck it made me sick! I don't truly understand when life became about how much you could get for it.  I am doing it because I love doing it, because it is for a veteran and it is all about cherished memories.  I will definitely take you along on the journey.  

Yesterday we decided to participate in the city wide yard sale.  I wasn't excited, I am not really a yard sale person, I am more of a take it to the thrift store and move on kind of person. Yesterday might have changed my thoughts a bit.  First off it was crazy busy, so I didn't have much down time, but I did find a bit of time to work on my latest cardigan.  I also lowered the prices on most of my craft show items, frankly, they needed to go.  With Beau's medications and the crazy high prices that are being charged for booths, it simply wasn't feasible to continue on that path. 

So many people scolded me for how low things were priced, pointing out that I probably had more in materials than I was selling them for.  And in some cases, they were right.  In other's... not so much.  But the truth of the matter is that they have been sitting in tubs, lingering.  It was time for them to go to new homes. As a result of the conversations I had, I have 2 women that I am going to teach to crochet and or knit, I have two more that want to learn to sew the little bags I made.  And one lady ordered two more baby quilts.  

Truthfully, my spirit is soaring!  I love passing skills on to other people.  I've had to struggle a bit to acquire some of my skills, people weren't sharing when I was learning.  I am seriously self-taught on many things and before YouTube the library and out of print books were my best friends. 

If I couldn't fail, if I wasn't risking falling flat on my face... where would my dreams take me?  If I was brave enough to risk displeasing some, failing in front of others... oh my...

Oh let's see...I'd have a small hobby farm, not huge, but big enough.  It would be a gathering spot, for people wanting to learn all those silly granny crafts.  The things that are being forgotten.  I'd gather lots of skilled friends willing to share their knowledge.  Some for free, some for a fee, none of it so much that it would cause a financial hurt to someone.  Knowledge should be shared.  Openly, willingly.  A place where we all could grow and expand. 

A kitchen to learn meal prep and canning. Somehow we have several generations now that cannot do that easily. A garden to grow and learn in.  Oh my if dreams didn't cost so much, what a dream to have. Oh and it would need a pond, good sized, somewhere for Hubs to teach kiddo's how to tie their lure's on and fish for hours.  Let them experience the peace and self-satisfaction of bringing home a few fish for dinner.  

Can you picture it, a small cabin like building, big enough for like 20 people at a time.  With gardens and maybe even a few farm critters, chickens, maybe a goat or ... well that is out of my range of knowledge so lets stop at chickens. 

Open it to all ages, as long as the skill was skill level appropriate. Groups, individuals, scouts, home school kiddo's. The list is endless.

I've taught 2 and 3 year old's to cook, garden and do simple crafting.  So nothing is truly off the table.  A chance to gather those pesky tweens and teens to create something, to plant or care for something.  For the most part our schools do not teach true life skills, they teach us skills that will benefit businesses, not individuals. My opinion. 

I will forever remember almost twenty years ago and being assigned a group of tweens/teens that had never touched tools to build the benches for the Kaboom park we were building.  It was probably one of the most rewarding experiences in my life.  These kids worked through the challenges, came together as teams, learned to back out stripped screws and try again (so many times) and at the end of the day, I handed them a sharpie and let them all sign the underside of the benches.  I tasked those kids in a city filled with graffiti and destruction to protect their work.  I haven't been by there lately, but I know that 5 years ago those benches were still standing strong and serving the community.  The pride in their work protected them.  

So many adults are longing to learn those skills, social media is filled with it.  

Can you smell muffins baking in the oven while you are teaching someone to make a quilt, to alter or change worn out clothing into something else.  To stretch their dollars by learning life skills? Or working in a woodshop, building their own flower beds, cutting boards, oh my that list is endless too!

I feel we would be a whole lot better off as a society if we could simply bring some of those skills back. If the world stopped being disposable.  If it returned to being precious and treasured.

Whenever anyone asks me a recommendation on a sewing machine, I immediately say a vintage machine, whatever you can afford, but I will quickly tell you my personal favorites if pressed.  I do the bulk of my sewing on machines that are 76 years old.  They are easy to maintain, they make the most beautiful stitches and they bring me complete joy. They aren't fussy, they don't need special anything, just a bit of oil and some TLC and they are ready for their next 100 years. 

So what if?  

I feel like I am mentally standing on a personal precipice.  I just don't know what it is, and I am equally unsure of how I fit in this world.  Pretty sure I don't fit at all.  And that is just okay. I've spent 9 months of this year changing physically, that journey continues, but I have other changes I am wanting.  Dreams I want to chase, might just be about time.

Well, I need to finish morning "chores" - butter needs made, the tallow is already in the crockpot.  And I probably need to finish tidying up the garage from the yard sale and bring the albums up from the basement, we found someone that will cherish them as much as Hubs does - yet has the ability to play them.  

Then my focus has to turn 100% to the quilt.

Have a mentioned how much I love my life?  In during the chaos we are currently dealing with, there is a current of peacefulness to lean into.  There is calm.  It's amazing!

Start dreaming, then start doing, let's start our own revolution of dreamers!

much love, 

b

bittersweet memories...

It's been roughly 7 years, maybe a bit longer, maybe a bit less.  I am not sure.  What I do know is that the emotions that hit me walking into the MX last night were powerful.  It was my baby, I'd put so much into it.  Lost myself for a while.  Too many long days, nights, weekends... wow, just wow. 

As I hugged my dear friends and wandered around the building that I used to know so very well. A few faces were vaguely familiar, the rest unknown.  I met a new face, what an amazing young lady.  She'd been afraid I would slip on some water and had rushed in to warn me.  I had to laugh.  I knew every spot that water might pool in there and was already stepping aside.  I thanked her.

We talked for a bit, she told me the things she loved about the building and people.  I shared with her my memories.  The joy I had felt cutting the ribbon on that place and building a family with the people inside the doors.  It was fun.  It reminded me of all the reasons I had stayed through the hard times.  For a small, tiny moment, I missed it all. 

I felt myself kick into the old protective mode.  Lifting up people's spirits about the loss they would soon suffer, chatting with them about other options for them and what buildings might fit their needs the best once the MX closed it's doors for good. You always find good people when you expect to. 

I was blessed to spend a bit of time with people that mean a great deal to me.  Walking through memories that I thought I had built a wall around and feeling tears well up, threatening to spill over as I walked out the door.  I will probably go a time or two before they are locked the final time.  A few more moments to remember and celebrate the team I was blessed to be a part of, the dream we tried so hard to make into a reality.  I'm sure nothing as grand as the beautiful art hotel the old Y was replaced with will take it's place, closing that one tore my very soul.  Who knows, before long I might walk through the doors of 1528 again.  But those memories still bite.  They cause a sense of loss that has pain tied to it... who knows... 

It was a weekend of memories, something I rarely participate in.  For a huge history buff... someone that could literally walk into the past and forget to walk back to the present, my own history is something I rarely revisit.  I block it out mentally and physically.  I have a nasty habit of cutting the ties, refusing to hold on to things.  I truly have no idea why, but I definitely do it. 

Hubs on the other hand, has a remarkable ability to remember it all!!!  I mean, dates, times, names, the weather, the feeling, you name it he can remember it and the moment it occurred and probably most everything that has happened to the person, place or thing in the adjoining years.  

This weekend, I saw him brought to tears of joy.  I actually witnessed him physically being drawn back to a space and time that even predated him.  No, I am not suggesting he was remembering a time that was before he was even conceived, although with him nothing would truly surprise me.  But he was given a blessing that few of us receive. 

Over the past few weeks, we've been cleaning out some clutter and stuff that is simply taking up space.  One of those areas is the old album collection.  The one that sits gathering dust, filled with memories that no one is going to want when we've left this plane. 

We tagged teamed to get the listing typed up, me typing, him reading.  We'd finished all the full albums and decided to tackle the 78's and 45's.  As we sorted through the dusty records, we found a few treasures.  Records that were physically recorded by his older brother.  He was a a drummer after he returned home from the war. These felt priceless. 

One of the records was from 1947, it was a recorded letter home to his dad and mom. A few others were slightly more recent, probably early 50's, these were self-recordings of him and his wife. Evidently she had been either a singer or musician also.  They were dusty, covered in slight scratches and we didn't have a record player.  They will return home on Friday.  

Hubs being Hubs got into a conversation with the young man that bought one of the collections he was selling and what a happy God wink that was!  The young man had just bought a turntable that could make digital recordings.  His own brother had passed away young, he understood the desire to hear their voice again.  

Nowadays, it's easier.  There are recordings, phone messages, videos... we seem to have them everywhere. But from 1947?  Junior has been gone since the early 90's.  We have pictures, we have random bits of things.  But to hear his voice?  To listen to his drumming?  Nope, those things were lost to him. 

The young man took the records home with him.  He promised to get on it before the weekend was over.  What a gamble.  To trust those irreplaceable treasures to a stranger... But trust he did. 

Saturday morning, I was in the process of doing about a dozen things at once... pure chaos!  Cooking, gardening, tidying the house - when I heard Hubs call up from the basement.  Demanding I come down. It sounded so urgent.  He does this thing where he won't tell me why he needs me, just makes it sound critically urgent and then silence. 

It drives me nuts and I know I was a bit fussy, I was so busy in that moment. Something about the look on his face stopped me from being my usual smarty pants and I paused on the steps.  Yes, my need for instant answers was absolutely killing me, but I paused.  I watched him fiddling with his phone and speaker.  Frustration mounting, but curiosity starting to win the battle. 

Then in a mix of snaps, pops and scratches, across the decades came the voice.  It was hard to make out, but there was Juniors' voice.  I can't remember the full date, but he definitely said it, my brain stuck on the 1947... his "letter" home from the front in Germany.  

Watching my sweet Hubs melt, his eyes full of tears of joy.  That was irreplaceable. The young man recorded and sent to him every bit that could be heard.  With the magic of technology, Junior was at our home, Hubs was able to listen, to remember, to share those memories.  It truly was a God wink.  An unexpected gift and treasure.  

Definitely a weekend of memories.  Some joyous, some more melancholy and painful.  Time spent with friends and ghosts of the times gone by.  I had been sad about the number of my team that have passed away, silenced.  Hubs was gifted with his brother's voice and musical skills.  The past didn't seem so far away. 

This week is dawning busy.  Hubs has appointments almost everyday this week as we start the process of healing his shoulder, finally!  We will also be getting ready for a city wide yard sale and I get to start on the memory quilt that I have been commissioned to make. 

Did I tell you about that?  Oh what an exciting journey it is going to be!  I am going to be using a veteran's uniforms to create a memory quilt for him.  We have the bones planned out, but the rest?  Well... I can't wait to see it come to life.  Memory quilts are some of my absolute favorite things to make. I can't wait to share it with you. 

I haven't gotten any further on the bit that is making me think - which is why I haven't shared it yet.  It is slowly taking form in my mind and heart. That bit of a conundrum is still lingering there, waiting for attention.

Well, I need to get busy, it's going to be an overwhelmingly busy kind of day and sitting around isn't going to happen. 

my boys...

I hope everyone has a wonderful week...

much love, 

b