Round Robin view

It is with a sad and heavy heart that I share these pictures with you.  There are no party pictures, no smiling faces, no group shots.  We have just three of our round robin quilts.  The other five are lost in the mail.  Our friends in Germany are just as shattered as we are.  These quilt tops represent a year's worth of work on their part, a year's worth of anticipation on ours. And now they are lost.  So is my heart.  I think though, that you and they should see what could have been, if for no other reason to thank the new friends we've made for their beautiful workmanship and skills and friendship. 

 This was the center Barb made

 And this is her quilt.  It's here, it's one of the three.

This was Marilyn's center 

 And this is her missing quilt

 This was Dodie's center square

 And this is what she received back.  Dodie's is one of the three here.

 This is Ines' center square

And this would have been her quilt

 Jan B. sent this star center

 And this is her quilt.  Jan lives in a log home. Can you just see it in a log home setting?

 Janet sent this center square in wool

 And this would have been hers.

 Karen sent this square

And Sally would have received this in return.  We lost Karen to cancer last February but Sally stepped in and worked in her place.

 This was my center

 And I received this back.  It's stunningly beautiful and oh, so me.  I was one of the "lucky" three to actually receive mine.

I can vouch for all of us here, if they choose to view this post (I will send them a spoiler alert), they are all gasping as I did when they see their quilt top.  

Thank you again, Friends in Germany for your hard work and participation in this round robin. We remain hopeful and while I am always near tears about the loss, I do send positive thoughts into the universe hoping for the return of everyone's tops.

Respite

After this time of packing, purging, staging, storing and major heartbreaking disappointment about our Round Robin package, we needed some relief from the stressful stuff.  Yesterday PH and I took the grandgirls and mommy and daddy to see a youth ballet performance of The Nutcracker.  This is one of Adelaide's favorite stories.  When she was four (or maybe three?) she asked us for a nutcracker for her birthday.  So we got tickets and had a great time.  The girls were enthralled. Adelaide was twirling and leaping in the aisle during intermission. 

      After we returned,  my daughter and I could hear the tinkling of a music box and Adelaide's voice. We looked around the corner and here she and Grandpa were, dancing to the music box you see on the floor.  Oblivious to anyone else, the room was completely dark (I used the flash), here they were waltzing.  I can assure you this dancing wasn't PH's idea, and no one I know - especially him - can resist her when she asks for something.
      We stayed for the evening Santa Claus parade.  Adelaide had been dancing and pirouetting ever since we got home from the ballet.  As we walked the two blocks to the parade route she was doing leeps and twirls down the street, still imagining herself in the ballet.
                              She said, "if I can feel it I can dance it."  You go, girl.

 The parade route was lined with people, it was a relatively warm night, in the mid 30's, no snow (yay!), no wind, no bitter temperatures.  It was a perfect evening.

      I'm learning how to work my new camera and had LOTS of trouble with moving objects in the dark but this one turned out and happened to be my favorite float - other than Santa, who didn't sit still a bit so he was very blurry.  Lowell's claim to fame is their Showboat. It's parked on the river that runs through the town and in its day hosted very big name entertainers.  It's still a venue for summer concerts.
      After some stressful recent weeks we took a day off and had some fun.  Now on to more packing of books onto a truck and taking them to the storage unit. 
    

Gag

That's how I feel right now.  Do your remember the Round Robin my friend Elke in Germany organized with her quilty friends and me with  mine?  Well, our package from Germany has been lost in the mail.  I know.  This post should be draped in black bunting. As I type this I am on hold with the postal service hoping to talk to an actual person instead of a robot to find out what to do.  Their website is like trying to navigate an aircraft carrier in a storm.

Elke mailed our quilts back to us on October 27.  We expected the same quick postal treatment  as in the past.  But I knew when the Secret Santa packages made the trip to and from Australia in a week that something was really wrong.  Sure enough. Tuesday Dodie called from Florida to say SHE received a box with just three quilt tops in it.  And a form letter from the Mail Recovery Center  saying it couldn 't deliver it, the box was opened to determine an alternate address, they found one in Dodie's journal (could have found one in mine, too) and they sent it on to her.  But there are only three.  Where are the other five?  Mine was one and so was Barb's and of course, Dodie's. 

I am nauseated.

The Rosie Effect

Rosie Effect by Graeme Simsion

You know how it is when you read a book with an incredible character you just fall in love with?  And you get all excited when the author carries that character into another book not only to keep him alive but to carry his story forward?   Enter Don Tillman.  

We met Don in The Rosie Project and immediately I fell in love with this character.  He isn’t “average.”  Reading his story you would say he is highly functioning autistic.  He is, after all, a university professor.

In The Rosie Effect, Don and Rosie move to New York for a teaching stint at Columbia University.  Life with Rosie brings challenges to Don but he loves her dearly and will do anything it takes.  When Rosie becomes pregnant it’s Don’s attempt to understand the demands that will be made on him to be a “good father” that sets this story on its path.  I found myself talking to him…”NO! No! Don’t do that!”  or “Awwwww….”  or some other muttering between my smiles or worries.

Don has a whole new support group of friends in this story, including Gene, his best friend from Australia.  “The guys” all try to chip in with advice for Don.  And in time of need they all chip in to save him, too.

I can only hope Don and Rosie are going to be true mainstays in future stories.  Rosie is, after all, pregnant.   No, wait!  Not anymore.  But you have to read this to find out the rest.  This is an absolutely delightful story, Don is a one of a kind character and I just don’t want to ruin it for you by telling you too much.   This is smart, funny,  sweet,  touching and well,  can you tell I loved it?

The dilemma

This is my dilemma.  We are in the process of trying to sell the house. It's a big house.  We're downsizing and moving closer to family and friends.   Our new realtor sent a "stager."  Someone who tells you to get rid of everything and make the house look like no one lives in it, even though you do.

Our house was never furnished with coordination.  It never looked like a furniture store showroom where everything matched, looked "put together." We started out furnishing from our grandma's basements.  Our dining table was my grandma's first table when she was married 100 years ago.  I have two chandeliers that hung in her house and I take them with me whenever we've moved. One of our chairs was given to my parents when they were married. It's in the background of my brother's baby pictures. He's 66.   Everything has a story.  As I am purging I am realizing everything we have...everything....has a story.  Everything.

 Like this chair.  It may not seem like much but over 30 years ago PH and his brother and we wives were at a restaurant.  These were the chairs we sat on in the dining room.  I loved the idea of this old railroad office chair so much I asked if I could buy mine.  The restaurant manager said yes and charged me $10.  I know! Ten bucks for this cool chair.  Well, after he said I could buy one I had to buy the BEST one so I went around to other tables and asked the people sitting in their chairs if I could try theirs out. They let me!  When we paid, I wheeled this chair out with us. The stager said it has to go.

 We have two of these.  When we built this house we had lawn furniture to sit on.  You see, we never bought a piece of new furniture until we built this house after being married over 25 years!  Anyway, that first summer my son and his friend lived here while they worked in town.  They bought these two chairs so we would have them at the dining room table.   The stager said they have to go.

And this.  When I graduated from college (at age 47) people gave me money gifts.  I bought this chaise and adore it.  The stager said it has to go. But I moved it to the back porch, a place I never let it be because I didn't want it to get weathered.

She also said the dresser I keep my "delicates" in plus three other drawers full has to go. PH's dresser can stay but mine has to go.  Go where?  And where do I keep my clothes?  She had no answer so I guess I'm supposed to send my clothes to the storage unit we got in Grand Rapids (55 miles away) and every morning  drive to GR in my undies and rummage through boxes at the unit looking for something to wear, huh?  NO, wait!  My undies will be in with that stored stuff! 

I am purging and I know I have to purge more. I AM doing it. It's necessary if you downsize. But we don't know where we are going and so don't know what will fit. So that's my dilemma.  Especially hard when there's a story behind every single piece in this house.  Even the bathtub.  That's the best story of them all.

Secret Wisdom of the Earth

The Secret Wisdom of the Earth by Christopher Scotton

Since I read the book Christy by Katherine Marshall as a teen I have been fascinated with the culture of the Appalachian mountain region.  I only have to read that this is the setting of a story and I’m on board with it.  It’s double good luck when the book is a good one.   This is a really good one.

After witnessing a horrific accident at their home in Indiana,  young teen Kevin and his mother travel back to a her home, in a coal town deep in Appalachia to heal, if that would be possible.  This town is no Mitford, the problems here are large.  The coal companies have taken to blowing the tops off the mountains to get to the coal easier and cheaper.  This is devastating to the environment and the town is torn between selling out to the coal company for the money or fighting. 

Kevin’s grandfather is a wise man.  He is calm and wise in helping Kevin face his demons, and in letting Kevin’s mother, his daughter,  grieve.  He is also well respected in the town and a force behind the opposition to the coal company.

Kevin befriends Buzzy Fink and through and with Buzzy, Kevin gets to know and love the area he is living in, understands what the coal company is doing  and what it means and importantly, he starts to heal.  Until horror again visits his life and he must take the step to becoming a man.  Quickly.

The story is told by adult Kevin looking back on this summer and understanding what time and distance can show us.   This was really, really, really a good read. I recommend it highly.  Highly.