What Happens At The Lake, Stays At The Lake

While many in the quilting industry are rushing fast and furiously to the the International Quilt Market in sunny hot Houston, including our buddy Mr. Golden Threads, who incidently, couldn't wait to get out of Dodge because of the wet, windy weather we treated him to ( I am absolutely sure that was it...and not the torment we put him through!), we will not be joining them.
The girls of JHS are heading to the Nort' Woods....and I got a feelin'...Stoney Lake will never be quite the same.
We don't need any hot and sunny location...us hearty Canadian chicks can throw a party in an igloo if circumstance warrants...and while it doesn't ...we're prepared!
We have planned and packed and schemed and packed and arranged and packed for weeks, we got all the bases covered...even going so far as to allot time at our last meeting to discuss the proper way to pack... finger quotes...refreshments...finger quotes... Heartfelt thanks to Sweet S for her obvious experiance concerning that matter, cuz utmostly important is the protection of our " refreshments".
Our original plan...the four of us would go up...us and all our stuff...in one car. Didn't take more than a day or two to realize that wouldn't work...so then it became...us and all our stuff in two cars. That looked good for a week and then reality was...unless there were a couple of us willing to ride the roof ( and I don't do that without alot of "refreshments"), we needed a truck. So now we have a truck...and a car....and I am scared by Wednesday...we may have a CONVOY! Remember that song from the seventies!
"Cause we gotta great big convoy, rockin' through the night"
"Yeah we gotta great big convoy, ain't she a beautiful sight?"
"Come on an' join our convoy, ain't nothin' gonna git in our way "
"We're gonna roll this truckin' convoy, cross the USA"
"Convoy... Convoy"
Anyway ...that's just a warning for any of you travelling north on Wednesday...if you see a car..and a truck and a truck and a truck and a beer truck...no wait...we're not ownin' up to the beer truck....that will be us headed to the resort on Stoney Lake.
And I so bet Viamede is expecting a bunch of blue hairs!
Little ole' gals who will sit and sew all day, then after a healthy, nutritious meal and a spot of tea will be off to bed with the birds. It so ain't gonna happen. While we will certainly strive to keep it all legal and avoid the need to have anyone incarcerated or committed, shit happens, fun must be had, and no "refreshment" should go to waste.....I'm just sayin.
We will be arriving a full day before any of our guests....and as the dedicated and professional staff that we are, only feel it our duty to sample all the facilities the resort offers, including, of course, all licenced establishments ...to educate ourselves so we can make recommodations based on fact...tried and true experiance. My little Oklahoma friend already thinks we are setting a dangerous trend by spoiling our retreaters with having their kits completely cut and ready to sew...if she only knew the depths of our dedication.
And it extends beyond our clients I might add....we are dedicated to each other as well. I can rest assured knowing, that Friday night, while sitting in the licenced establishment, downing a few "refreshments" in celebration of my son's high school graduation and in sorrow that I'm missing it (what rocket scientist decided kids who finish school in June should not actually have grad til November for the love of Gawd!), I can count on them to join me...in sympathy ...of course. Cuz that's the kind of girls we are....dedicated!
And oh ya...there will be sewing...and laughing ....and eating....and "refreshments." Maybe not so much swimming....as it seems this resort is without a pool....and then again...with a huge lake at the door step....who needs one. And frankly...this pleases me. With the thought of bathing suit shopping giving me heart palpatations, I and the world have been spared this ugly task.....unless of course this big lake is a big heated lake...which just may make it necessary to implement Plan B....skinny dippin'...but rest assured, this plan can not be implemented without the aid of very large amounts of "refreshments". I do believe Stoney Lake is safe from this horror, altho I make no promises.
Whoever thought to make mornings free time...well that was usin' their noggin'. While we may not have the same trouble getting out of bed that blue hairs have...there may indeed be trouble of a different nature...that's all I sayin'...could happen. I am so lookin' forward to it all. I am sure we will have a group of fun lovin' ladies, who's only complaint will be that it all ended too soon...that's the plan...they'll have to come back next year...and do it all again!
And so what if the staff's next retreat must involve a 12 step program with AA...we have so earn the vacation!
So, I'm off to pack some more....my own stuff now. Judging from the pile I have amassed ...it just might be necessary to add just one more truck to that convoy! Some editing must be done as even a master packer would be challenged to get this stuff in one bag...just know....if it comes down to room for underwear or "refreshments".....it'll be a breezy weekend for me!
To those of you wondering if we are going for 5 weeks instead of 5 days...no one promised to come back by Sunday...did they? I"m just sayin'.
And for the JHS girls and guys staying behind to hold down the fort....we hope you have alot of fun with your mystery weekend....and oh ya....those prank phone calls....they're not from us....honest!
Stoney Lake....look out!

Trouble Comes A' Knockin'

Note to self:
The next time you phone for a ride home and the person on the other end of the phone actually sounds happy to pick you up...be afraid...be very afraid!

I so shoulda known. I even looked at my phone to be sure I had dialed the right number. It was all there in the almost gleeful...'sure, I'll be right there!' This is a home where I could be missing for three days and no one would notice....and when I reappeared they'd say ' Where were you...upstairs?' This is not a home so big I could be upstairs for three days and should go unnoticed... but I could.
Nope....it was clear from the get go... something big was gonna happen, if not for my dulled senses...brought on by two weeks of flat out work and long days at the Creativ Festival, I'd of picked up on it straight away and got myself to safety...surely M would hid me in her attic til the crisis passed...or Miss J woulda let me sleep in the cat house at work till it was safe to go home. ( I don't work in a cat house...really...there's one nearby...for real cats...honest...oh never mind). But oh no....I walked right into this one....eyes wide open...brain too fogged to realize it.

I get in the car, this my only day off...which really wasn't a day off...I had just spent the last seven hours looking after the guild workshop...and I want to go home... I'm tired...I want to sit and do nothing...for at least an hour before I have to get yet another gourmet meal on the table. (Okay...that's a lie...there never was gonna be a gourmet meal...that night or any other...I just wanted to veg).
I hear the car door locks engage. This is already not going well. I shoot him the look....he's already smilin'...he knows he's done it.
''We're going stove shopping."
"Pardon?"
"I want you to come look at a couple of stove"
"I'd really rather be beaten...and poked with a stick"
"I know...but we're gonna look at stoves instead"
No matter what button I pushed I could not over-ride the child lock system and jump from the moving vehicle, and if I thought there was half a chance I could fit my big @&& out the winda...I'd have done it.....stove shopping...Mother of Gawd say it ain't so.
You'd be hard pressed to find anybody anywhere who needs a new stove...wait... any stove less than I do. I'm a microwave girl who grocery shops at the 7-11.....what the hell do I need a stove for. Ooooh the fabric I could buy...a new Mega quilter....why not just burn the cash over a bonfire in the livingroom...we could cook over that!
I whine all the way into the store...trying to make him give it up...wearin' him down....makin' him realize the error in his ways....fightin' a losing battle....he musta taken a double dose of anti-bitching medicine...he is focused and determined.
And there they are...rows of white stoves...they all look the same. I am forced to stand there in my clogs and fluffy pink socks and listen to all the 'features' each white stove has...they might as well have been speakin' dutch....and I swear....my hand to God....those salespeople are trained to spot Morons in the Kitchen.....and she obviously had me pegged from the get go. While she talked to Beige Man in a normal voice....everytime she explained something to me.....I got the dumbed down version....you know....the whale talk... thhhiss buttton maakes thhe con-veekkk-shun feeeturre comme oooonnn. Like I'm 5! And even if I am 5 in the kitchen...it was horribly rude of her to point it out!
Oh ...and the kicker. Beige Mans asks which one will confuse me the most. I point....he tells her that's the one he wants...kid you not. He bought it. For those of you who think I exagerate about my inability in the kitchen....that should clear it all up for you right there. He bought a stove he is absolutely sure I will never learn to turn on.
Kinda says it all don't it.
I am seriously considering telling the delivery people they got the wrong house when they come to deliver it, cuz the only thing I can cook up at this point is Trouble!
That I'm good at!

She Lives

So the Creativ Festival (still think that name is icky, but does give my bad spelling an honest platform) is over for another year! Happily everyone survived, altho by Sunday night, there were a couple just holdin' on fer dear life.
Despite my fears we would be hopelessly lost in the wilds of downtown Toronto, the trip truly was an easy one. I won't mention the little trip on the escalator going no where or the panic attack I had following M to some secret side entrance in Union Station. I had enough wits about me to dutifully note the way we came ...and lay down a trail of bread crumbs...incase it turned into yet another factory tour. I won't mention any of that...nope not me! I did learn the art of pushing and shoving politely...one you must master to ride the train, and I also learned that the train is a place where no one talks to no one...everyone engrossed themselves in something...be it a book, a computer game, newspaper...whatever... it seems the goal is not to make eye contact with anyone and no matter how strangely the people in the seat across from you act... you pretend not to notice. I got that quickly!
The first day there was for set up, which at first glance, you couldn't imagine happening any time soon what with the sea of boxes and supplies dumped everywhere. Slowly and surely it all came together...despite the fact we were almost all without the now required steel toed shoes.(Do they make steel-toed stilettoes...cuz I'm not complying until that happens!) I truly think steel fingered gloves would have been more appropriate, what with all the nails I broke. I
seriously think the health and safety board needs to re-examine that issue for the love of Gawd!
We were set and ready to go for the opening the next day. It was steady, but not nuts...I got cocky....this was surely going to be a piece of cake....I was expecting the madness of the tent sale the shop has but it didn't really happen...that day anyway. Little did I know...that was Friday.
They all came outta the woodwork that day!
Everybody wanted something at the same time that day....and the line up at cash ...I swear was never ending. I gotta say tho, apart from one or two itty bitty meltdowns things moved along well. I took my first trip to the parking garage with a customer's purchase. That was interesting. She couldn't remember what elevator went to the parking garage and ask if I minded slugging this heavy awkward box up the escalator.....my lips said no I didn't mind....the little voice in my head...well I can't repeat what it was sayin. We went up three escalators, back down one...then trucked clear to the other side of the building. A security guard finally pointed out the right direction, she is muttering the total trip about not remembering coming this way, and I'm sweatin. We finally get to the garage...she doesn't recall where she parked...but luckily finds a piece of paper, where in a shinning moment of intellegence, she had written down where she parked. S 8.....we were at B 2. I prayed all the way to S 8 that she would remember what kind of car she had come in...and thank you Jesus... she did. I remained pleasant....just thought rude things. She was blonde.....I'm just sayin'.
I did meet alot of nice people throughout the weekend. There were some really cool customers, very happy and grateful for the help they recieved, some very obviously talented, some alittle less so, some who taught me something, some who made me say hmmm....and okay...to be
honest...the lady who brought her doll to the show...well she creeped me out a bit. I enjoyed talking to the professional demo team who did our irons...guess I never stopped to think there were professional demonstrators (is that what they're called?) who go around doing demos for
whatever.
And then there was Jim...or Mr. Golden Threads as I prefer to call him ... a very nice man, here from Chicago....with his wife.......who apparently gave the girls I work with some ammo to tease me about. I am not sure what went on in my absences (an Lordy..do I really want to know?) or where these girls came up with their interesting theory...but I'm just thinkin their delirium was fueled by late nights and alcohol!!
And then...we wrapped it up.
I must say it goes back in the box quicker than it comes out...again without our steel-toed stilettoes. M and I were the last to abandon ship, not without guilt at leaving the captain standing in a sea of boxes, armed with only one cold drink to finish the job. Trains wait for no man....or woman...and certainly not for the likes of Frick and Frack. Payback for cuttin' out early...a train full of crying babies.
Not that they kept M awake. And the naughty...not knotty....part of me...so wanted to just get off the train and leave her sleeping there...wondering how many return trips the train would make before she woke...I'd of sat there laughing my butt off everytime the train pulled out....but in the end, I'm too good of a friend to do that...and besides...she knows where I live.
So now I can say...I been there...done that...and frankly...am glad I did!

Tomorrow, we start set up for the Creative Sewing and Needlework Festival in Toronto.... now known as the Creativ (yes there's no E) Festival (who in Gawds name thought that was a better title...I don't know) .
Anyway, M and I are going down to assist with all the set up that needs to go on before the doors fly open to the public on Thursday. We decided to go by train, and I have never gone to the festival by train before, always by car...so tomorrow, I have to trust M to get us from Union Station to the convention center.
If only you knew what a leap of faith that will be for me.
See M has this little problem with direction. Actually, it's a little problem.....like being in quick sand to your neck ...would be alittle problem. I can honestly say, sadly, I have never met anyone EVER who was as hopeless with direction as she is.
When I first met her...we'd go out shopping or to a quilt show or something like that...always very local...nowhere off the beaten track...places you think someone who's lived here twenty odd years should know how to get to. But inevitably, we'd always seem to end up in the back of some factory somewhere...kid you not. After the first couple of times...I finally clued in...this chick has a serious problem with direction. I used to tell our American quilting friends how bad she was.... I refered to them as our Factory Tours....and we'd have a great laugh at M's expense...but then they'd say...."Oh Nad...leave her alone...she can't be that bad."
Seeing is believing I alway say!
She showed 'em. On their last visit here, they allowed her to navigate ....I beg them not to do it and my pleas were totally dismissed...so I sat back and watched it happen. Alls I'm gonna say about it is our twenty minute drive lasted nearly two hours...and honey...we seen parts of Ontario that have yet to be discovered by man. At one point M points out the CN tower and convinces the others that ...see we are close to home..there's the tower. Never mind that she can't actually SEE the tower from her house...she thinks it's in her hood! We ended up cutting through a farmers field when the road we were on stopped...ended...in the middle of some Gawd-forsaken nowhere.
So ya get the picture.
I asked her if she knew the way from the station to the convention center....for real. No problem she says...ya just go out side and catch the Needlework Festival Shuttle bus...takes ya right there. So do you suppose the Needlework Shuttle bus runs...before the festival even opens...or should I count on a 36 hour wait at the bus stop...I want to dress appropriately? Hmmmm?
She is sure she can get us there....me not so much! I have taken adequate precautions and packed a hearty lunch and plenty of water, charged the cell phone and have 911 on speed dial....checked the map myself and KNOW where I'm going....but it will be very interesting to see where the hell we end up if I decide to follow her tomorrow. I might just 'play' with her alittle ...just to see!
So if you're going to the needleworks show, we'll be there on Thursday when it opens and again on Sunday, check for us at Joyce's booth....if we're not there....well you'll know things didn't go so good...and maybe you could send someone to look for us...check around the tower first....like I said...she got a thing about the tower!

We Have To Find A Way....To Find A Way....To Be Glad.

January 5, 1987 - October 13, 1999

If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together....there is something you must always remember....you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think....but the most important thing is....even if we're apart....I'll always be with you.

If there ever comes a day when we can't be together, keep me in your heart, Ill stay there forever. Winnie the Pooh.

Be Careful What You Wish For!

M and I have this running gag going. When one of us finds something really ridiculous...in our very humble opinions anyway...on the net.....we email to the other...with the title..."Made Ya Sumpthin"

Most of the time, it's out and out dueling and I gotta admit...I have been to places on the net I could never tell my Mother about (Scroll Mom scroll!), in search of weird get-ups to threaten her with.....and let me tell you....nope...never mind, I'm still scarred from what I seen...I can't share.

Most things, however, fall under the category of just plain hilariously hideous. Like the hot little number in the picture. I found this and emailed it to M. She wrote back gushing about how long she'd been looking for just this bag, how she soooo wished she had one... and if she got something like this ...she could now die a happy woman. I aim to please!

Someone call the undertaker!

I made it for her.

Took some effort too...and not just on my part, it required quite a sacrifice on Beige Man's part. I went to Goodwill and found the perfect purse, which sadly was a much nicer, more expensive purse than I'd personally ever owned, but I fought the urge to keep it...fought it hard and slapped a coat of orange paint on it.....thinking all the while...what kind of an idiot would have thrown away such an expensive purse....when I should have been thinking....what kind of idiot would slap orange paint on such an expensive purse...laughing this sick laugh the whole while. Oh ya.... there are days when even I wonder if I'm right in the head.

It took several coats of paint and a couple more of clear coat. I wrapped the gorgeous leather handles in checkered fabric,little bows on each side and moved on to tackle the lettering. I needed 7 orange bottle caps...and after racking my brain...I knew the answer lay in the local Beer Store. I made the Beige Man go buy beer...with orange caps. I am nothing if not resourceful...and him...a tight @$$#@ Scot ...is nothing if not cheap...I mean unwilling to waste things. He could not bare to see me empty the bottles down the sink...so he volunteered to drink them...take one for the team. Being the kind soul I am...I gave him a couple of days to do it.

So I get my letters done and am so totally pleased with the results...it is exactly like the picture. I wrap it all up and ready for her birthday.

She was SO pleased to get it! I could tell from the names she called me!

She promised to use it...and I promised to be busy everytime she went to the mall with it.....not that I'd find it at all embarrassing to be in her company...hell no...that's not it at all...really! She is the type of girl who could carry off a purse like that...what with the mumbling and all, they'd know she was just out on a pass.

And wouldn't ya just know it...here we are in Pumpkin Purse season again! I'm just sayin'... if you do happen to see her at the mall... alone with her purse.....approach with caution... she swings a mean pumpkin.

If she's a very good girl this year...Santa might just find her a matching hat

I Got The Music In Me

I LOVE my MP3 thingie!

I was really timid about having one in the beginning. I figured it would just be another piece of technology that would only make me swear. Technology has that effect on me, in fact, I can go from a polite litte quilter to a foul mouthed sailor in about three seconds flat.

But I do love music... and love it enough to finally bite the bullet and learn to operate the MP3 thingie. It's a hand-me-down from The Boy. Seem all my techno advances, while new and exciting for me, are yesterdays new to The Boy. Works for me tho.

Prior to the MP3 thingie, I inherited the last latest musical advancement....the portable disc player...that I think is really called a discman??? A walkman that plays discs...makes perfect sense to me. I was very happy with my discman. I solved the portability problem (you just can't get a discman in your pocket, no matter who hard you try!), by making this little pouch to put it in (I'm a sewer ya know!), and a tie to attach it to my belt. Tres chic! Okay...maybe not so chic...but highly functional...plugged in and on the move...that's me.

The supreme embarrassment to my son...that's also me.

Not bad enough that your mother's a dorks...now your mothers a dork with a pouch. His fear that I might actually leave the house with the it...or Gawd forbid, his friends might drop in while I was blissfully groovin' around the house with my ear buds in and my pouch fully engaged...if word got out...he'd have to move....far far away.

So he hands-me-down the MP3 thingie. And I LOVE it! I put it on every morning with the socks and underware...and there it sits, mostly unnoticed, tunes at the ready, all day, everyday....heaven!

I have all different sorts of music....for whatever mood I'm in. I can drowned out just about anybody when I want to...earbuds in...rest of the world out. It drowns out the all sports channel in the car, the Beige Man ranting, The Boy whining....even M when she's a cranky pants. It makes the house work go quicker and is as good as a bottle of wine (well almost) to relax me after a long day. But I love it most in my sewing room!

That's where my inner rock star really comes out!

Oh stop it...you know you got one too!

In real life...I couldn't carry a note if it were strapped on my back, I have never mastered a musical instrument...not even the recorder in grade school. In the interest of mankind and all that is holy, I should never ever be allowed to sing in public, in fact, a restraining order would not be outta line...but in my sewing room.....

I'm Elton John, I'm U2, I'm James Blunt, I'm Madonna, I'm The Goo Goo Dolls...all of them. It is there that I just know that I can out sing any of them...that fame and fortune are just an agent away, that anyday....anyday now....I'm gonna be the latest hot discovery in the music world. And ..oh ya...I got the moves to go with the voice (no I am not spastic....and no I have never had a siezure disorder...duh!) ....I'm the total package baby!

And they all been warned.

Everybody's been told....what they might hear or see in that room....could be disturbing....and if they ignore the caution sign and police tape.....well...don't be showing up at the door with that pained...someone just slapped me look on yer face....if ya can't stand the rock world....back away...back far away.

One day, in the far and distant future...or that should be your hope anyway....maybe I'll take the show on the road. I've been thinkin if this bowling thing keeps crippling us all, maybe drunkin' karaoke would be a good option...but I'm alittle unsure if there is enough alcohol in the world to make me sound good.

Guess it all depends on who's drinkin' it.

For now...you're safe....I am content to just listen...and if there is a God...that's the way it should stay.

The quilt...my entry into the Music Challenge....and it won. The song...I'm About To Come Alive

Don't be scared!

A Guilt Trip In the Country

He said: "Hey, you wantta go to the apple store today?
She heard: "You don't have anything better to do today than stand in front of a hot oven and
bake apple pies do you?
He said: "Apples are so good right now...just thought it would be nice to get some while they're so nice and fresh."
She heard: "Listen...for some reason... only known ta God, you make a decent apple pie despite the fact boiling water seems to be a challenge for you. This is the only time we ever actually want you to cook....you should run with it."
He said:" The Boy hasn't been eating much fruit lately, I know he'd really love to have some
apples."
She heard:" It'll be all your fault when The Boy gets scurvy...or ricket...or whatever the hell
people get when they don't have enough fruit....and everybody will know you're a bad bad mother.
He Said: "If you don't have time...that's okay...we can go next week or something."
She Heard: "Well if you're willing to risk your son's health and your reputation as a mother
because you can't rip yourself out of the sewing room just this one time so we could
have homemade apple pie, that I have clearly stated...we desperately need...guess I
could maybe go to Sobey's or Loblaws and get one of those crappy fake apple pies
and save our son from agony and disease...no thanks to you.
So the guilt trip...I mean road trip begins...off to the apple store...an idea shared by everyone else in Durham apparently, cuz there we all were shoulder to shoulder edging our way thru the teeny tiny apple store.
"We could pick our own" I was reminded.

Yes..yes we could. We could also slam our hands in the car door too...but like pickin apples....it's just more fun when someone else does it.
We get the large box.

(Of course we get the large box because cooking the small box woulda taken no time at all...and since the guilt trip is workin sooo well....let's just push it all we can!)

I spend the trip home convincing myself I really do want to stand and cook apple pie all day, because in the interest of all that is motherly and right....my family needs these pies.
It didn't work, so after a sandwich to fortify myself, I decided I would take another 15 minutes to find my apple pie zen....and just bite the bullet and do it...knowing my family would be eternally grateful for my great sacrifice, I would retain the good mother award and there would be no scurvy in this house!

She says: "So...how many apple pies are you hoping I will make today?"
He says: "Well none actually"
What?
I put myself thru all this torture...good mother-bad mother...rickets and scurvy thing....and you don't want pie?
He says: "I was hoping you would make lots of apple crisp this weekend....and then next weekend you could make a bunch of apple pies."
Really....I mean r-e-e-a-l-lly?
Guilt trip bus skids completely off the road.

I am a good mother, I am a good mother. I am a good mother
But I ain't no Betty Friggin' Crocker!