Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall

 Well, maybe 90 butterflies.  This isn't all of them.  I ran out of table, someplace to lay them out.  I think this quilt is going to be bigger than I'm comfortable hand quilting but I won't send it out to be machine quilted.  I've spent way too much time nose to needle with these insects and won't give up the project for someone else to finish.  But boy, I'm getting tired of them.     I can finish about 2 in an evening so it's taken the better part of my life these past couple of months.  When these are finished there are three coneflower pieces to be appliqued but that's ok, they're different from the butterflies.   I've had fun with them, though, too.  Using bigger scraps, paring pretties.   There are nine left to go. Eighty-one bottles of beer on the wall.

weekend wonders

 

 This was probably the last of the most beautiful weekends of this fall.  The leaves are stunning and bright and yes, they are falling.  The weather was blue sky bright and sunny and not cold.

 

 So we spent the weekend with PH's brother and SIL, quilt buddy, Joyce at their cabin and helped rake leaves. I tried counting how many oak trees they have on their cabin property but gave up.

Joyce and I did the raking, the boys did the hauling to the dump

And we burned, and burned and

burned some more

The push was to make spring raking easier by getting the acorns picked up in the fall. You might think well, leave them for the squirrels or deer.  But no, when there are seven hundred trillion of them even the squirrels and deer can't keep up.

We worked really hard but the four of us got it done and were rewarded with wine, beer and a game or several of cards in the sun.

My reward was robbing the squirrels and deer of a bag full of acorns.  I have a crafty project in mind but I am also going to try eating them. A new thing to try.  Stay tuned. 
 

Cuyahgoga

 

Cuyahoga by Pete Beatty

In 1837 everything was big. The country was big. The horizon was big. The trees were big. Lives were big. People were big. They had to be. There was so much yet to explore, settle, build, the country needed big thinking.

Sometimes people were named Big. Big Son had a brother called Medium Son – Meed for short. Meed tells the story of Big in a big fashion. Big could do anything ten men could do together. As Meed tells it, “Big rastled bears and every other creature ten at a time. Drank a barrel of whiskey and belched fire. Hung church bells one handed. Hunted one hundred rabbits in a day, ate a thousand pan cakes and asked for seconds, drained swamps and cut roads.” Big could do anything he put his mind to, except win the heart of Cloe. But oh, he did his best to try.

In tall tale fashion Meed tells Big’s story and he has to because Big is just so big you can’t make him regular. It’s 1837 and Ohio City and Cleveland are in a tussle for metropolis of the West. The Cuyahoga straddles both, one town built almost single handedly by Big and one, well, not. Big and his accomplishments are free entertainment to the settlers but the man needs to earn a living wage so he can ask his Cloe to marry him proper.

Hanging heavy on Big’s story is the idea of and need for a bridge to span the Cuyahoga River thus freeing the need for a ferry that cost a penny, big enough money in 1837. There is rivalry among the towns, of course and Big finds himself in the middle of it all.

Big’s struggles, the acceptance of a bridge by both towns and its aftermath, Meed’s own need for his own life, Cloe’s future, the struggle for the future of both Ohio City and Cleveland, well, what can I say? This is the most absolute fun I’ve had with a book in awhile. The author’s style (Meed’s telling,) is refreshing, fun, completely entertaining, BIG and I promise you’ll read with a big smile on your face and if you don’t start talking like Meed while you’re reading it I’d be surprised. I can’t wait to see where the author takes us next.