Ban Weddings on Holiday Weekends. Please.

Please, for the love of whomever you hold dear, do not schedule your wedding on a holiday weekend.

Honest. I mean it.

Do you have any idea how many people's long weekends have been  ruined because they know someone who thought the whole universe should come to a screaming halt and accommodate them? You are delusional if you really think everyone invited to your wedding is thrilled to be there (and I don't care where) for your special day.  They are just afraid to tell you.  They are afraid to say, "Listen, we work like dogs, we are tired, and we really look forward to these holiday weekends.  We want to be left in peace, to travel  where WE want to go (or stay home and lock the doors) and not have to spend the time and money to schlep to your wedding  and  sit through another three-day dog and pony show that passes for a wedding these days."

How do I know this? Besides being one of these people,  I live in a place where weddings are happening all the time -  especially around holidays.  I drive past the hotels and see the fatigued looks of your guests, a look that says, "I want to take off  this dress and high heels / suit and tie , pop open a cold one and relax.  RELAX.  Not sit there while you take 400 pictures, play a video of the bride getting her wedding hair done (and her mustache waxed) that morning, not wanting to hear the endless parade of  "and now the Father of the Bride will dance with the third cousin once removed.....".  They would honestly rather open a vein than view some PowerPoint presentation containing 800  photos of you and your beloved, dating from the cutting of your umbilical cords  to the present day.  I hear your guests  when they come in to my husband's store looking for a wedding card (or killing time)  and complaining about the "stupid wedding" and how "we could be up at (fill in the destination here) and enjoying ourselves."

Listen.  Seriously.   I've been going to weddings for a LONG time.  I even paid for my  books in college by singing at weddings, so  I have  been to more than most.  Here is my heartfelt, sincere and sober advice for how to insure a nice wedding:

1.  Do not schedule it on a holiday weekend.  If you need motivation, the surcharge your guests will have to pay on their  air travel and hotels will  definitely impact the quality of gifts you receive.

2.  Make up your guest list. Then cut it in half.  Honest, I already know you are over-inviting and I have never even met you.

3.  Look up the definition of a guest, and how they should be treated.   Really.  It's a concept 95% of weddings do not take into consideration. Email me if you need help with this one.

4.  Keep the church music in the church and the reception tunes at the reception.  Mixing them up (usually crappy pop songs in church) happens more often than you think. Additionally, it gives your guests douche chills.  I am going to burn in hell for singing Anne Murray songs at church weddings in the 80's, I just know it, but I needed the cash.

5.  If you are old enough and mature enough to stand before witnesses and take solemn vows promising your unending love and commitment, then you are too damn old to have stupid props and toys handed out by the DJ at the reception.  (Who, I guarantee you, is playing the music too damn loud.)  If your little friends can't make it through an evening without playing games and wearing stupid hats, rent them a party room at Chucky Cheese and stop by after the reception on the way to your hotel.

6.  Do not, under any circumstances, include those insipid bridal registry cards in your wedding invitations.  The retailers make them up BECAUSE THEY WANT TO MAKE MONEY.  It is tacky and vulgar and thoughtless. If your guests do not know you well enough to ask you where you are registered, please refer back to #2.  If you still  feel the need to dictate what your "guests" will give you, send them an invoice.  Then review #3 again.

7.  About the bridesmaid dresses - they will never, ever, EVER wear them again so just drop the BS and admit you are forcing them to buy some frothy, overpriced  piece of crap because you did it for their weddings.  A level playing field is best, and honesty is a good way to start a marriage.

8.  If you insist on wearing a sleeveless, strapless bridal gown that shows off acres of cleavage   and has some sort of  hooker-corset, lace up back, please have the decency to get a little satin jacket to wear  over your shoulders at the church.  There is nothing demurely bridal about coming up the aisle wearing something that  - in any other color - would look good next to a stripper pole.

There is more (um, much more) but we'll take baby steps here.  Thank you letting me speak for countless people who are this very weekend  trapped at holiday weddings.  They will never tell you these things.....but trust me, this is exactly what they are thinking.

Schooled by my Stash

The Bernina (sporting a fine new needle clamp screw) is off to the experts for a long overdue tune-up, clean-out, fixy-uppy.  I have bowed to pressure (and the sound of a clunky bobbin case) and made up my mind to get it back in top form.  I have three projects that need to be finished, and the machine is not firing on all 8 cylinders.  I packed it up, placed it near the stairs (so Joe can carry it down and schlep it to my car) and turned and took a good look at my sewing room.

UGGGHHH.

It was a mess. I have a little bit of an organizational sickness thingie, but you would not know it by looking around. I set to work "filing" fabrics in their color coded tubs, collecting odds and ends, finding a home for Ebay upholstery bits (I have a thing for Scalamandre) and reviewing my UFO's (not as bad or as many as I thought).  By the time I finished working my way through the entire mess, I had the uneasy realization that I have........ fabric I had forgotten I purchased.  Fabric I really loved - woo hoo!  Fabric I had not seen in ages.  Crushed walnut shells to make pincushions with - wool roving for felting.  The amount of forgotten muslin (the gift of  a friend, long story) was overwhelming.  Yards and yards of muslin.

I was planning on doing a little fabric shopping after I dropped off the Bernina.  Guess what - I'm not.  I have a lot of lovely stuff, and I am content with what I have.  It is all tidy and folded and looks wonderful.  I have been schooled by quilters, schooled by my Mom, and now I have been schooled by my stash.  It was a marvelous lesson.

TAH FREAKIN' DAH!

The Porsche needle clamp screw has arrived.  Opening ceremonies for the application of the screw to the Bernina have been postponed as it is close to 90 degrees here today, and  my sewing room (as the rest of my house) does not have central air.  I need a clear head and a cool, steady eye to get this thing in there correctly.  Meanwhile, I shall rejoice in my good fortune and thank the team of Sherpas that ascended remote peaks in the distant hemisphere to locate the precious metal used in the forging of this marvelous instrument.  (Okay, so heat makes me sarcastic. Sue me.)

Bloggers Quilt Festival - Spring 2010

I was tickled to find the Bloggers Quilt Festival on Amy's Creative Side blog - what a great idea! (I especially like the part about 'beverages being welcome' as at any other quilt show such a thought might be heresy.)  I like the idea, too, of being able to travel around and see all these quilts in the comfort of my PJ's -  what's not to love?

So here goes.  My quilt is actually Gwen's 60th birthday quilt.  I worked for Gwen in a consulting business that involved a lot of relationship building, HR training and team building. Gwen was (and still is) a marvel at human relations.  So it should not have come as a surprise  to me that making her quilt would be an exercise in spirituality.  I didn't have a clear idea of what to do,  just had the blocks and the fabrics.  As I set the blocks together, I noticed how little paths formed, colors deepened and lightened and it became (to me) a true reflection of how Gwen works, how she weaves relationships and moves people to better places.  (The bright sunlight washes out a lot of the detail in the fabrics.)

It was a remarkable learning experience for me. Gwen takes it with her when she travels to clients - as a talisman against latex pillows and hotel room linens.  I love that.

I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP.

I have been reduced to the status of "visitor" in my own sewing room.  I broke the canvas needle during some overzealous stitching of my basket project, and now this - the Porsche needle clamp screw  is AWOL. The only thing left to do now is sort out fabrics, tidy up the fabric containers, reorganize my cutters and templates and (shriek!) maybe vacuum.  Is this quilting?  I think NOT.

The Squeaky Wheel Gets the Screw!

Hey !   Whine a little on your blog, call a Bernina dealer in the area and POOF!   The Porsche screw is on  the way!  Schwing!

We Interrupt this Sewing Project for a Nor'Easter....

Dropped everything to go outside and rescue my Japanese tree peonies.  There is a nor'easter storm headed this way, and they will be shredded cabbage by morning if they weren't cut and brought inside.   It's tricky - the blossoms are huge, but you don't want to cut much of the stem as (like hydrangea) they grow on that wood stem next year.  I wait all year for my peonies - the herbaceous ones are still tight little buds, but these beauties are now safely inside where I can gaze upon them and soak them up.  The inside pictures don't do them justice!

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Bernina Held Hostage - Day 25

I'm holding up pretty well, considering I have NO IDEA if or when the Porsche needle clamp screw will ever show up on my doorstep. I am trapped in back-ordered  limbo.  It isn't like I can drive down to the local hardware store and pick one up - I would have done that ages ago.  So, I'm stuck with my canvas needle in my Bernina - and since it's being held in place by the broken needle clamp screw, I'm not even sure how stable that is  - or for how long.

So I need a suitable canvas needle project and I think I have one in mind. Our new TV came with a nice remote, we have the satellite remote, we have the remote for the Bose stereo (hooked up to the TV) and the VCR/DVD remote.  I know - one remote can control all of those things, but my husband is not ready to let go of his precious stash of remotes.  Whatever - he watches more TV than I do, so whatever keeps him occupied (so I can go upstairs and sew.....) is good with me.

We need something to reign in this hodgepodge of remote controls, so I think I'll make up a basket that is 1) long enough and 2) wide enough so they can all nest nicely together. I bought the book It's A Wrap last summer, fooled around a little and loved the technique & the ability to use up some not-so-nice fabrics in a way that makes them look wonderful. Bonus - I have a strong needle in the machine, so sewing through all the layers of clothesline & fabric will be a snap.  Wish me luck, I'll post pictures if/when I'm successful!

Women's Writes

Women's Writes: Signature Quilts & Stories opened yesterday at the New England Quilt Museum in Lowell, Massachusetts.  I loves me an exhibit opening - not only does a new exhibit go up, but the quilt selections from the permanent collection get rotated. It creates an entirely new "place" to see.  Signature quilts appeal to the deeply sentimental slob that thrives inside me.  These quilts were made for many reasons, some as welcome gifts, others as farewell or thank you gifts, still others to raise money for churches, organizations, or special causes.    This from Christina Inge, our PR goddess/maven:

At a time when women did not have the vote, property rights, or occupational opportunities, and were justbeginning to have beyond-basic literacy skills, creating signature quilts was a chance at self-expression and self-sufficiency. Frequently made as charity fund-raisers, signature quilts gave women a measure of both political and economic independence, enabling them to fund their favorite social causes entirely on their own. Groups of women raised money for temperance, abolition, church renovations, the Red Cross, and women's social clubs by raffling off signature quilts. Many women's groups also signed the quilts they made for troops during the Civil War, often adding patriotic verses to their signatures.

The only problem with opening a new exhibit is that I get completely sidetracked from what I am working on and think I must immediately begin a (fill in the exhibit name here) quilt.  It is a nice problem to have.

Fun with Head Cold Remedies

Honest,  I'm on day 4 of this and I am wondering if a guillotine might not be a bad idea.  I usually pick up some kind of nasal bug when I fly, but this trip provided me with a slap-you-down, humdinger of a head cold.  I've been in my bathrobe and jammies for 3 days - even  good, hot, steamy showers don't  seem to be able to clear up the congestion.

Logically, this would be a good time to get some sewing done, right? Wrong.   The Porsche needle clamp screw for my sewing machine is evidently somewhere in deepest South America as it is still on backorder status.  (My head is in no condition to be operating machinery anyway, so that is probably a good thing.) A little hand sewing maybe?  Don't think so, the results would reveal a heavy  Sudafed-esque influence.  So what can I do?  I think I'll try my hand at some yoyo's.  I need some for the kitchen Saito wall hanging. On second thought, no one should be cutting up expensive Japanese fabric when they can't manage to walk down the hallway without bumping into the walls. (My stuffed up ears are messing with my balance, man.)   Maybe I'll plant myself in a comfortable chair and watch a movie - or maybe I'll just go back to bed.  I hate this.

Okay, now the Whiner Police are here and they are making me stop. Whatever.

An Open Letter to the Airlines

Please explain to me (and the rest of the world) why you have luggage policies and then routinely ignore them. I'm just asking.  I try to be a good traveler (I'm a middle child, quite the pleaser and rule-follower) and I am confused.

The rule states one small carry-on, and one personal item such as a purse or briefcase.  Okay.  Then how do all the guys with three bags all stacked up (almost equal to my height) get to "walk-on" with all that luggage?  How does the chick with a 34 zipper expanding compartment suitcase get to walk on with all 34 zippers expanded and full?  Even if they bought a fir$t cla$$ ticket, aren't the baggage rules the same?   Apparently not.

This is my luggage for a one week trip home.  ONE WEEK.  My purse is next to my bag.  I am superfly.  I also stayed with my sisters, so I didn't have to pack a lot in the way of toiletries or hair dryers, and since they each have a washer/dryer, I was in pretty good shape. But I digress - this is my entire week's luggage.  My carry on did not fit in the overhead luggage in Midwest Airline's Airbus 319.  Seating for six across - and the world's thinnest overhead luggage.  "If your luggage exceeds 9 inches in thickness" (honest, nine freakin' inches) "it will not fit in the overhead luggage compartment."   Midwest Airlines, really?  Nine inches?  Why bother?  Why not call it "overhead coat storage" and be honest about it?  While I have your attention, please - let go of the chocolate chip cookie thing.  I used to love your airline. (I might have married it.) You had those lovely wide seats, wonderful staff, and hot chocolate chip cookies at the end of each flight.  Now you just have the wonderful staff.  You have the sardine chairs and you make some poor person go up and down the aisles with COLD COOKIES at the end of each flight.  Bogus.  Why bother?

Back to the luggage thing.  I am really amazed at how many people walk on a flight with excess luggage. In addition to delaying the plane's loading and unloading,  they fill up all the overhead space and anyone unfortunate enough to be boarding  after them is, well, tough luck.

Here is my suggestion.  Let me work the front gate before my flight. I'd be happy to be the bag police, because evidently your employees do not have the stones to say NO to people.  I'm sure it would get old, getting yelled at and all, but if all of you airlines worked together and put the hammer down it would save a lot of this BS and maybe people would not dread flying so much.  Me? I have no problem being the bag police. I would actually like to work off some pre-flight stress, PMS, whatever. Bring it on, people.  I can deal. I can tell you right now - you are gonna check those damn bags.  Then,  we will all  get to where we are  going faster and saner. Win -win.

There.  I feel better.  Even thought I am home sick today with my airline's lovely parting gift - a 4 alarm bangin' head cold.  We'll work on that issue next time.

Delayed Gratification

Okay, so I'm about 3/4 of the  through my road trip and I made the mistake of checking my email.  The PORSCHE SCREW for my Bernina  (that I thought would be waiting for me by the time I got back home) has been....... back-ordered. I have invented 3 new swear words.

Dad's birthday was good, he tolerated the noise well and he demolished his cake and ice cream. ( I think that was the only part he enjoyed.)  We managed to behave ourselves at the hotel (we had a little lobby cocktail party...) but I think we are too old to make too much noise.  My sisters and I took some flowers out to the cemetery and wished Mom a happy Mother's Day.  It was nice to be able to do that - I live halfway across the country and don't get to do that, so that was actually pretty nice.  I miss her every day, and talk to her about as often.  I have learned that a mother's love never dies, it just changes - and deepens.  Honest.

On the Road Again

Leg # 2 of the Great American Birthday Road Trip is underway after lunch today. I managed to stimulate the economy at St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin, by leaving a few dead presidents at the local quilt shop.  Picked up a layer cake of Christmas prints by Kaufman Fabrics (Peggy Toole) - it's been years since I've bought holiday fabric, but these were just gorgeous.  I thought it would be nice to have a road sewing project to work on, and a reverse cathedral windows (hey, I'm in the zone) worked up very nicely.  Got about six bases done & pinned before we left Wisconsin, and stitched on the way to Des Moines.  Here is what I have learned about road sewing: 1) It is impossible to thread a needle in a moving car.  Period.  Luckily, I loaded up about 3 needles before I left, but I am so used to my Clover needle threader that I am incapable of threading a teeny sharp or between needle without it....bummer.  I'll load up about  3 needles  before we leave for Norfolk (Nebraska) and I will try my luck again.  Unfortunately, there are a lot of great quilt shops in and around Des Moines and I know I'll feel moved to stimulate the economy here, too, so there you go. Somebody has got to do it, darn it, and I'm willing to step up and set a good example.

Happy Landings

I'm here. The flights were survivable, and these ladies below provided my breakfast.  (The chicks will be providing something else in about 6 weeks, but you (and they) don't want to know....)  It's good to be back in the heartland, I feel the space in my head expanding considerably.   The third picture  is a trip treat for my sister, I got back with the cathedral windows thing.  I added the buttons to embellish (and hide my wonky connecting joints. Some were good, some were......well, they needed a button.  The buttons are from my mother's button stash - see, you find things to do with those buttons you can't bear to throw away!  (PS - Yes, I made one for each sister. I'm not stupid.)

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Brace For Takeoff

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I'm leaving (on a jet plane, as a matter of fact) for a trip home for my Dad's 80th birthday.  Good times - I can't wait to see my family.  Before I do, there is the ordeal of packing, airport security, and the actual "flight experience" itself.  I've been flying for about 26 years and I cannot tell you how much it has changed - and for the worse.  Flying used to be fun - you could pack a reasonably sized carry on bag, throw in whatever you needed in the way of shampoo, etc. and zip off to the friendly skies.

Now, it is an ordeal.

It begins with the packing.  Honest. I think I can do this with the lunch-box sized carry on that is now standard on airlines.  I'm furious that they charge to check a bag.  (What a scam.) Fortunately, I'm meeting up with my wonderful, God-given sisters along the way so I don't have to pack a blow dryer or find teeny bottles for shampoo, etc.  (heads up Pat & Peg - I'm using your stuff )  so I can pack my prescriptions, a toothbrush, and that's about it.  The other sisterly bonus is that I can wear yoga pants and a big t-shirt for most of the trip (we're doing a LOT of driving),  so I don't have to pack a lot of clothes.  Rock and roll.

The flight itself is 2 legs - you'd think Boston to Minneapolis would be a direct flight, but nooooooo.  The Boston TSA ordeal is next - never easy, or effortless. Apparently,  51 year old white females are a high terrorist risk, because I always get pulled out of line for a special screening.  (Memo to self - wear throw away sockies & bring spare pair.) Forget about bringing along some hand sewing (though I would love to) - the one or two needles (no scissors) would certainly be construed as weapons.  It does not matter that the TSA website says they are allowed - the actual TSA agents all think they are hammers, and when you are a hammer the whole world looks like a nail.  (Adam Carolla) The actual flights are next, and anyone who has flown in the past 10 years knows the drill there, so I won't go on about that.

I have reasonable hopes that I'll arrive in Minneapolis in one piece, and then begin the driving marathon.  I'm good with that - I'd rather drive than fly (no surprise there) because I love, love, l-o-v-e getting out on the plains and seeing SKY all around me, breathing clean air, looking at barns and fields and maybe see a few spring calves along the way.  It is my homeland, my people, my life source - my umbilical cord to my roots, and it needs to be renewed regularly.  I'm always calmer, refreshed, and less strung out when I return.  Happy Birthday Daddy - thanks for bringing us all home.

May Day on Mars

I have lived out east for about 25 years and I still can't get over the sensation of living on another planet.  Case in point - May Day.  In our younger days, we'd get little crepe paper nut cups with sweet little handles and fill them with mints and nuts and little treats.  We'd run over to a friend's house, careful not to spill (okay, eat) the goodies on the way there.  Hang the basket on their front door knob, ring the doorbell and run away. Squeals of delight when they found their basket.  It was so innocent, so sweet.  Then comes the skip in your breathing when you got home and saw one hanging on YOUR FRONT DOOR. I remember getting them and just being so happy.   It was special, it was 4 mints and 6 peanuts of friendship and caring.   What's not to love?

I'm sure by today's standards, kids would get an MP3 player or a Nintendo game in their May basket. ( Kids are really wrecked at a young age, in my opinion.  Nothing is special anymore.)  But here on Mars,  no one has even heard of May baskets, much less did it in their youth.  How messed up is THAT? Who gave birth to these people?  I have these lovely grandmas who come in to Joe's store and complain about buying a card for their grandkids when, "All they care about is the money inside."  I always want to lean over the counter and say, "Well, who started putting money in those cards, huh?  Did you ever think of  getting them a good book, taking them out for an ice cream, or teaching them how to make a cake, or just the two of you cooking up something special for lunch?  An actual chance for a conversation?  A little bonding?  How about a movie? A trip to the science museum, or a zoo? If your answer is, "My kids would hate that," you have failed as a parent and a human being and I hope I never have to run in to you - or your kids.

Joe and I are the boring great-aunt and uncle, we buy savings bonds and tuck them inside age appropriate books.  The kids aren't too thrilled, but the parents love us long time.  I guess I don't feel the need to be an ATM to people I love, especially when they already have every doll/toy/dress/gadget on the planet. I'm up for the things they will look back on and say, "Gosh, that was so nice when.... I really miss being able to .....".

It's okay, I'm patient.  I can wait. But if my books and that damn sewing machine screw do not show up soon, I'm going to go nuts - and not in the good May basket way.