Halloween Memories

*You're getting two posts today. I was just over at Mary's and was brought back to a memory by her Halloween post. I just wanted to share. Scroll down for my Friday 55 and Da Count. Though I suppose this qualifies as a second entry for Da Count.


I just turned 7 two weeks ago. Over the summer Daddy left and moved into an apartment with some girl who doesn't wear bras. I miss him and I don't understand. Mommy and my brother and me moved from our pretty house in the country where we had a huge yard with woods behind them and a big vegetable and flower garden. Now we live in town in a broken down house with graffiti on the bedroom walls. The yard is smaller than the garden was. Mommy says we don't have money for a lot of things we used to have money for. Mommy is sick too. She has blood clots in her legs and has to lay on the couch all day. I am afraid something bad will happen to her. I go to a new school where I don't know anyone and I don't feel very welcome. I got laughed at today for my costume. I hate it here.

Now it's time to trick or treat and Mommy can't take us. Nana just called and said she was able to get off work tonight. She's a switchboard operator at the newspaper. Other years Mommy would drive my brother and me to the newspaper so we could trick or treat there too. Nana always wanted to see us and she'd lead us around to her friends' desks.

Nana is here now and ready to take my brother and me trick or treating. She chimes, "Come on, kids. Let's go spookin'!" I trudge out because I don't know this new neighborhood very well. All I know is the kids laughed at me in school today. I don't want any more of that. Nana is full of life and energy and we have to run to keep up with her. She sees my long face and wants me to cheer up. I try. She tells my brother and me to get in the car because she has a stop to make. We go to the 5 & dime store and she all but runs down the aisles giggling until she finds the masks. She pulls one down that looks like an Indian with a feather in his headband and snaps it around her face. Her voice is muffled by the mask as she asks what we think of her costume? We giggle with her. Who ever saw their grandmother go trick or treating in costume? And just a mask for a costume is not very much. She laughs at us and says she has more. When we get back to the car she pulls a blanket out of the trunk. It has kind of a southwest looking print on it. She wraps it around herself like a poncho and declares herself fit for trick or treating. She even has a pillow case for goodies. I smile at her. I love my Nana.

When you go trick or treating in my little town you have to do a trick to get your treat and everyone has to guess who you are under your costume too. We are go to the first house and do our little tricks. Nana does a silent "rain dance." The people guess my brother and me but have no idea who this "extra kid" is. They guess name after name. My brother and I are giggling while Nana keeps doing her Indian gestures and stifling her own laughter. Finally the people give up and Nana pulls off her mask to reveal the old lady she is. We all fall apart laughing, Nana hardest of all. She had the best trick of all. She holds out her bag to collect her treats.

As we walk to the next house she is unwrapping her goodies and eating them already and tells us we can too. Mommy always made us wait until we got home. I feel lighter when we trip up the steps of the next house. Nana tricks them all again, gets more treats, and we all laugh harder. House after house we are in hysterics at how funny and clever Nana is. We are working out more Indian tricks for her to do, more ways we can suggest she is a kid. We are planning who to fool next. We are stuffing ourselves with candy. She lifted us out of sadness by becoming one of us. Nana is our best treat that Halloween.

Friday 55 & Da Count-Do You Love Me?

FRIDAY 55

Do I matter?
Is my absence a vacuum that no other can fill?
Does my presence bless you, will you bless me?
Do you act on my behalf grudgingly or gladly?
Does the thought of me warm you on a cold day?
If you were choosing again would you choose me?
Do you love me?


*image from http://www.films42.com/columns/DLT-T_Golde.jpg




DA COUNT

I was struck by the ruminations in John Michael's post this week when he asks how to interpret the question Tevye and Golde ask each other "Do you love me?" in The Fiddler on the Roof. They've spent the better part of their lives together after an arranged marriage, raised a family, and seem generally content but the question of love arises.

One of my favorite Norah Jones songs is What Am I to You?. She talks about how she will express herself to one she loves and then poses the title question. I love you and these are the lengths I will go to. Do you love me and how will I know?

I've read about the Five Love Languages and how we each speak and want to be spoken to in what is our "native language." It could be words of affirmation, quality time, receiving gifts, acts of service, or physical touch. We probably enjoy all of them to some extent but one will be the most preferred mode.

There are individuals I love but I wonder if that is returned. I wonder what I am to them. I feel as if we speak two different languages and there is no interpreter in sight. There are those who speak a very different language and yet we find a way to "communicate" the most important truth of mutual love. There are other people with whom I feel no doubt and I know we speak the same language. It's like coming home from a foreign country and finding a familiar and easy comfort you've craved.

Today I'm counting the ones who strive to make sure we understand each other well even when it's not easy, and the ones who need no interpretation.

Now tell me, how do you let people know you love them? What lets you know you are loved?

Slice of Lime-Wedding Dress Edition

On Tuesday Cooper, Susie, Breazy, and Jocelyn left comments demanding to see my wedding gown and what my bridesmaids wore since I mentioned my mother made all the dresses. Having no other actual ideas for this week's Slice of Lime I am subjecting you all to showing you the requested pictures.

First, the evidence. My mother took over my vacated bedroom to use as sewing space. The clean, empty floor was the only space big enough to lay out all the fabric and patterns. Here she's cutting out a bridesmaid dress.

My gown, my veil, a couple of bridesmaids gowns, and her own dress for the wedding, which she also made. I only asked her to make my gown. She eagerly volunteered to make the bridesmaids' gowns as well. My girls were ecstatic to only have to pay for the cost of fabric and notions. It's hard to beat $35 for a full length taffeta dress.

The finished product for Mom and me. Please keep in mind this was 1988 when hair was worn big (I never had big hair. My conscience is clear regarding the effect of Aquanet on the ozone layer.) and wedding gowns were expected to drip beading and baubles and pearls and bows and all manner of other geegaws. Fussy, complicated gowns were the style. Mine was fairly understated for the time...well, except for those linebacker shoulders. Hey, don't laugh. The Little Mermaid wore that dress a few years later. I didnt' have a flower girl or a ring bearer. They were misbehaving so as punishment I carried them inside my sleeves. Mom did a beautiful job. Everyone was happy with how their gowns fit and she actually changed the waistline on mine. It was supposed to be straight but I wanted the v-shape so she changed the pattern.

The one fussy feature about the dress was the 40 or 50 buttons that went up the back of it. Mom asked if I wanted the buttons or if she should just put a zipper in. I asked for the buttons. She covered each one in satin and hand crocheted the loops for them. That's motherly love. It took my girls a while to get me buttoned in. I had ideas as to how fun it might be having them unbuttoned later, hence my preference for buttons over a zipper. Mr. Lime did not share my thoughts on the matter. I want to further emphasize the understated design of this 80s gown. Gigantic bows on the bride's rear-end were the in thing. I opted out of that particular trend if you'll notice. My girls had very small bows atop each shoulder. My mom made enough extra bows out of scraps to go on the bases of candles on the tables at the reception. Afterward, we gathered them up and every year I put them on our Christmas tree.

So now that I am all buttoned in and bedecked in the various finery here's the fully finished product of my girls with me as my maid of honor adds the last touch. May I say the buttons are the only reason getting dressed took me more than 15 minutes. I did my own hair (single french braid down the back) and didn't wear any make-up. Heck, this was even in the days before I decided eyebrow plucking was a good idea. It was well before middle aged hormones and my Greek heritage would conspire to provide me with an upper lip in need of regular waxing. Low maintenance, baby. But I digress, I was supposed to be showing the finished product or my mom's labors.

Take note of the $9.99 Payless shoes with a half inch heel in this next shot. I do believe I have mentioned I hate high heels too. Comfort, that's what I am talking about. I guess I clean up reasonably well, but I still can't be overly formal for very long. We got married the week before Christmas. At the reception I took off my grandmother's pearl earrings and wore red Christmas ball earrings. If I knew how to photoshop in arrows and labels and stuff I'd do that but I can't so you'll have to tolerate the explanation in paragraph form. See the two older ladies looking like they might beat the crap out of anyone who tries to take the bouquet from them? Yeah, those are my great aunts. The girl in the red dress who has her hand up is my cousin. The girl in the front in the black dress with the red belt is also a cousin. They are all in a life and death struggle for that bouquet and fully intend to launch themselves at whoever catches the garter. Such is my family at a wedding. Twenty years later and the white haired, octogenarian aunt will trip you with her walker then beat you senseless to get at the bouquet. However, the winner was the slight girl in the blue dress. She promptly came over to gleefully hug me at which point one of my Christmas ball earrings pulled off its wire and found itself down her neckline and nestled in her bra. As I whirled around trying to find it she deadpanned, "It's in my bra. See? I look like I have three boobs now."

Finally, I'd be remiss in not having at least one picture showing the groom. Neither of us quite understood what the heck the photographer was trying to get us to do at this point. The pose you see is what we wound up doing spontaneously. I liked the playfulness of it.

So there you have it. My mom's mad sewing skillz on full parade nearly 20 years ago.
Thanks, Mom. You're the best!

Weird Politics

Here is the stuff of nightmares...Presidential candidate Cabbage Patch Dolls. They are supposed to be auctioned for charity. I don't even want to imagine anyone actually thinking these things are something they'd want in their house, much less pay a ridiculous sum of money for them. Please, just make the charitable donation and make the "dolls" go away. Bury them in the dirt in the cabbage patch. Here we have Obama himself. If you ask me he looks more like Bryant Gumbel's brother Greg.

Sarah Palin just looks like a somewhat hipper Mrs. Beasley, who I always thought was kind of a creepy looking doll to begin with.

The Joe Biden doll reminds me more of uber-creepy televangelist Jack Van Impe.

And if you haven't been completely skeeved out by those, here we have the John McCain doll....complete with mortuary makeup. Seriously, I don't think McCain has that much color in real life. What child wouldn't want to be tucked in at night without clutching one of these. Sort of sends a shiver up your spine, doesn't it?

Now for some truth is stranger than fiction take this quiz to see if you have what it takes to be President.


(For those of you how all but demanded to see the wedding gown mentioned yesterday, tune in tomorrow. How can I resist popular demand? Well, ok, so the popular vote didn't really win it, but maybe the electoral vote? Ok, well enough of you expressed interest that as per the ruling of the Supreme Court of Lime it constitutes a victory.)

Quilts on Tuesday-Oh, Baby!

The first quilt my mom ever made was a doll-sized quilt with appliqued tulips. Since that time she has made more baby quilts than I can even remember. She likes making baby quilts because they are quicker to do since they are small and they give her an opportunity to play with new techniques she wants to try without having to commit to a huge bed-sized quilt. She has made baby quilts for many grand nieces and nephews as well as children and grandchildren of friends. For a while she was also producing several a year for Project Linus which is an organization that provides "security blankets" for critically ill or otherwise traumatized children.

It was natural that once her own grandchildren started arriving she'd provide each of them with a quilt. Before I share the ones my mom has made though I will share one my great grandmother made for my uncle when he was a baby. My paternal grandmother wanted to give me the one that had been made for my father but it has pretty much fallen apart. Since my cousins had no interest in such things I was blessed with the one made for their father instead. It's much smaller than the crib-sized quilts my mom made but it was the perfect size for when my kids were in bassinets and cradles.

Here's a close up of the hand stitching holding the bird appliques to the quilt top. Although I'm not a big fan of applique I have always though this was such a pretty piece. It has held up beautifully for being over 70 years old and the colors are still so vibrant.

Here's the gratuitous "cute baby shot" of Diana sleeping soundly under it.

As promised here are the baby quilts my mom made for each of my kids. Diana's is appliqued. Mom also made my wedding gown and all of my bridesmaids' gowns. If you can see, the bear is wearing a white top hat. That is satin a satin scrap from my gown. The red saddle and rocker are scraps from the bridesmaids' gowns.

For Calypso's quilt Mom enjoyed experimenting with fabric paint. As it turned out, yellow was Calypso's favorite color for a long time.

When Isaac came along Mom was learning to cross stitch so she cross-stitched the designs on the top of his quilt. Her cross-stitch period didn't last long since she was beginning to develop arthritis in her hands and even hand quilting soon became a thing of the past for her. She indulged herself in a top of the line sewing machine and now machine quilts.

Each of these quilts are carefully packed away to be passed on when my children are having their own children. My grandmother crocheted blankets and sweaters for me and for my children. My mother made quilts for each of us. I'll have to make something for the next generation when it is my turn. I hope my kids don't mind tie dyed onesies...

Moooooom! Beach Bum Hit Meeeeeeee!!!

Ok, no physical violence occurred. He Just tagged me for a meme. It's been a while since I memed you fine folks too.

*image from http://www.stitchymcyarnpants.com/

Where do I buy my clothes?
In efforts to reduce, reuse, and recycle I construct my clothes from found items. Remember those hats made of crocheted together soda/beer cans from the 70s? I have a whole wardrobe of clothes like that.

Where did my furniture come from?
Mostly it's whatever we find by the side of the road. We got a nice couch that was out in front of a frat house. It smells kinda like my favorite beer can dress....and urine.

Where do I live?
In a pineapple under the sea.

Favorite books?
I think Danielle Steele and Nicholas Sparks are overlooked literary geniuses.

Favorite movies?
The series of movies Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen did during their early teen years are cinematic masterpieces. Citizen Kane has nothing on the Olsen twins.

Favorite music?
I think if Yoko Ono and Billy Ray Cyrus sang a rap duet no other music would ever need to be written. The pinnacle of musical expression would have been reached.

Favorite TV show?
My day is incomplete if I haven't been subjected to The Suite Life of Zack and Cody or Josh and Drake.

Who gets hit?
I prefer to tickle people thanks. But feel free to employ this meme at your place is you want.

Da Count in 55-Autumn

Golden light slants through the trees
dressed in blazing costumes.
Crisp air blows through the limbs as the orchestra tunes.



Gusts send a thousand ballerina leaves
into pirouetting descent
until they rest upon the ground
amid the gently rustling applause
of those awaiting the finale.



The curtain of night falls
upon one more autumn performance.

Slice of Lime-Fashion for Forty

As promised, today is the big reveal for the article of clothing one of my friends tells me every 40 year old (and older) woman needs as an essential part of her wardrobe. She tells me she knew I was lacking this item so she wanted to be the one to bestow it upon me for my birthday.

I have hydraulic underpants that suck in all the loose jiggly bits that aren't supposed to be loose and jiggly. I have bras with the tensile strength of steel in order to harness the loose and jiggly bits that should be just a little jiggly but not leave me in danger of whiplash or black eyes in the event I want to dance in my kitchen. I live in either bare feet or comfortable shoes (I LOVE my Birkenstocks)

My mother took me shopping and got me a new grown up, professional looking outfit complete with fall coat. Mona sent me 3 beautiful salwar kameezes. You know I have an extensive collection of tie dye and I can wear a sarong. You may evem remember the infamous "Lime dress."

Whatever could I still need?

A muumuu!

Yes, the is the gift that made me howl with laughter and made the teenagers howl with horror right before they headed for the hills. Yes, I put it on for the party. Check those groovy socks, with Birkenstocks no less. Hey, gimme a break. It's been cold. Frostbitten toes ain't pretty.

Cooties and Cougars

When Isaac was in kindergarten there were two girls in his class who had enormous crushes on him. One day I went into the class to help with some activity and he sat at a table with one girl draped over each shoulder as they fawned over him. The expression on his face said, "I could get rid of these pests in about 2 seconds if I were allowed to be rude, but I have to be polite. I really hope cooties aren't fatal."

He regularly complained about the girls in his class being annoying. One day I asked him if he found any of them tolerable. His eyes brightened when he said, "Oh yeah! I like to play with Lydia at recess. She will play chase with us. One time she caught me, threw me on the ground, and sat on my head!" It was all innocent but pretty funny to hear.

Fast forward to last night at dinner when Diana announced two neighbor girls, one who is 17 and the other who is 16, are both gaga for Isaac, who is 13. Calypso confirmed the rumor and added, "They both say if Isaac were about 4 or 5 years older they'd be all over him!" Isaac blushed head to toe.

For the record, I will no longer find it humorous if a game of chase followed by sitting on heads occurs. The young cougars best beware of a mama bear.*

*They are actually nice girls. I just needed blog fodder. But I got my eyes open.

Quilts on Tuesday- Tradition

I mentioned that I have the first bed sized quilt my mom produced many decades ago. Before I get into the main part of the post I thought I'd show you a quick shot. It hangs over a banister in my foyer so it's one of the first things you see upon entering the front door. It's significant not only because it is her first but because it is patchwork. You'll find out why as you read on.




You've seen the quilt my mother made when I was four and the one she made when I was thirteen. You may be getting the idea that quilts mark milestones in my life. How perceptive of you. The next milestone in my life was high school graduation. Mom told me I could choose any style of quilt I wanted. When I made my choice I think she immediately regretted giving me the option. I wanted a patchwork quilt.

Now understand, as much as my mother loves quilting THAT is the part she loves. She likes the needle work, the rocking of a needle through many layers in order to make lovely patterns with the thread. She does not enjoy cutting bits of fabric into particular and precise shapes, nor does she enjoy sewing those pieces together in exact patterns. She actually dislikes that part and had not made a patchwork quilt in probably twenty years even as she cranked out all manner of applique (which she finds far more forgiving and much more fun than patchwork) and plain top quilts with much stitching.

Did I mention I picked a patchwork pattern with roughly a bazillion pieces to it? I wanted a log cabin quilt. As you can see below, each 10 inch quilt square was made of 17 pieces a fabric. Mom makes quilts big enough to extend down the sides of the bed until about 8 inches before the floor. When she started this quilt for me I only wanted it sized for a double bed. Before she finished making the individual squares for the top I upped it to a queen size because I had gotten engaged. So figure enough of those squares to make a quilt that big. You do the math, it makes my head hurt. It made my mom's head hurt too.

Why did I torment my mother so? Well, I always loved the variety in a patchwork quilt. I loved the idea behind using all sorts of scraps and how so many of them would each have their own story. In the two squares below there are fabrics from old kitchen curtains and from the outfit my mother sewed for me to wear on the day my adoption was finalized. I wanted a very traditional looking quilt where I could have all sorts of wild fabrics bumping up against each other.


In addition to the personal history and wild colors in the fabrics, I just loved the geometry of the thing. You can see each square is divided along a diagonal which separates a dark side from a light side. The varying ways in which the individual squares can be arranged gives a number of different optical effects. Each effect has its own pattern name. I chose the "Barn Raising" arrangement (concentric light and dark diamonds) as a nod to my Pennsylvania Dutch roots. I don't have any idea if the pattern comes from the PA Dutch or not but the name certainly is evocative of a community of Amish coming together to get a job done. The individual squares also vaguely reminded me of a Greek Key pattern so it was a nod to my birth heritage as well.


My mother would work on the quilt and then put it aside for another smaller project she could easily complete before coming back to my seemingly unending quilt. Those of you who are quilters might say she could have rotary cut the strips and sewed it together lickety split and you'd be right. However, neither of us knew of that technique when Mom made this. She cut each piece with scissors instead.

Much as mom loves the hand quilting, by the time she got the top together she was kind of sick of this quilt and I was soon to be married. It had already been 4 or 5 years since I had chosen this pattern. She asked with an air of desperation if I intended for her to hand quilt it or could she just tie it. I had also asked her to use a sheet blanket for the batting instead of the fluffy polyester batting which was a cinch to quilt through. She was not looking forward to trying to hand quilt through all the seams and a blanket. She breathed a great sigh of relief when I told her to just tie it with knots through the center square of each block.


We used the log cabin quilt hard for 15 years. I still think it's a beautiful work but the heavy use took its toll and it, more than any of the others I have, shows its wear. In spite of what I might ask for, Mom once again offered to replace it with a new quilt of my choosing, but in the interim I needed to use a commercial comforter (it did its job of keeping us warm but what a soulless thing it was). I think I may save showing you "the new quilt" until after I've shared some of the others I have lurking around my house.

Surprise

Well, If you were here last week you know I was somewhat less than pleased that Mr. Lime let my 40th birthday pass by with no more acknowledgment than a card and two boxes of Count Chocula, and a really crappy mood from the husband. Now money is tight so I kept my expectations low...card, cake, a nice dinner I didn't have to cook or clean up after....heck, I'd have settled for spaghetti sauce and noodles out of the pantry that he cooked and cleaned up after so long as it was served with some love. I was less than pleased that Mr. Lime effortlessly limboed right under even those low expectations. More than a couple of you seemed to express a willingness to exact revenge on my behalf. I was nearly ready to consider the various offers made.

Well, I must say I was taken entirely by surprise on Friday night when 14 people showed up at my house for a party. First I caught Mr. Lime sneaking this cake into the house. I will admit I was still not suspecting a party. I was still irked enough to figure it was a sad, day late and dollar short attempt to assuage his own guilt....even though it was a tie dyed cake. Cool huh? Who knew they could tie dye a cake?

Then my mom and stepdad showed up, which didn't really surprise me since she said she wanted to come up anyway to bring some video she took of the homecoming floats from the previous week. Next, I heard my dad and stepmom's voices. They showed up in some tie dye I had made for my stepmom. I had to document that my dad actually was willing to wear this for my benefit. See how happy he is about it?

Eventually, 10 other people showed up but the last to arrive really shocked me and just about made me spill tears. It was my best friend who lives kind of far away. She turns 40 next month and she is pregnant with her first baby. I haven't seen her since before she got pregnant and now she is all round and cute.

So there were several funny gifts implying that decrepitude is upon me. You will have to come back for Thursday's Slice of Lime to see the one which both made me laugh the hardest and made my children flee in horror. I also got some nice things including a 5 pound Hershey's bar which included a "golden ticket" to this place. Uh, yeah, never expected that one. So it looks like I will be crossing #33 on this list. I'll let you all know how that goes. Woohoo!

The guests were a bit horrified to find out he had let me stew all week but in the end he did well.

Friday 55& Da Count-More Good Words

FRIDAY 55
(in keeping with last week's theme of "wordplay," here is a conversation I had with Isaac this week.)


As we drove he said, "Hey Mom, the flagpole is erect. The flag is flaccid."
"Trying out some new words from sex ed are we?"
He grinned and nodded.
"You want one to go lay on your teacher?"
"Oh yeah!"
"Tumescence."
"What's that?"
"Pertaining to a swollen organ; maintaining an erection."
"Cool! Good word! Tuuuuuuumesssssscence."

(Feel free to add some more fun words again this week.)




DA COUNT

On Monday I briefly mentioned that my car's brakes decided to make some truly horrid noises over the weekend. You may recall from this summer that I had a less that satisfactory experience with the repair shop I went to for a new transmission. When that occurred I got in touch with my "inner Paul" (that side of my personality most influenced by my father, who has an exceedingly low tolerance for bovine scatology and a tremendously forceful manner of expressing such intolerance). I also informed Mr. Lime that under no circumstances would said repair shop ever be entrusted with one of my vehicles again. When my brakes began to make sounds like sandpaper, progressing quickly to metal grinding on metal, Mr. Lime informed me, "Since YOU don't like our shop YOU'LL have to go find one you DO like and figure out how to get the car there and pay for it." His tone led me to think he was not only washing his hands of the entire situation but hoping I'd fail.

However, I knew exactly where I intended to take the van and did so the next day. I was not able to get it there until 2:30 in the afternoon though since that was the earliest I could find someone willing to bring me back home and I was then going to have to go about taxiing the progeny in Mr. Lime's truck (he took his bike to work). Around 3:30 the shop called me but I could not take it while I was on the road. I called them back around 4:00. They told me I needed brakes and rotors and asked if I wanted it that day or could it wait until the next day. I said it would be very helpful if it were done today but I realized it was getting close to quitting time and I didn't want to pressure them. They said they'd see what they could do. At 5:03 I got a call, "Ma'am, this is the shop. Would you believe me if I told you your car is ready? We are closing in 15 minutes but if you are able to come we will stay open long enough for you to pick it up."

I was quite pleased with not only a 2 and a half hour turn around time but the accommodation for my convenience and the friendly manner in which it was all provided. I got myself down to the shop and walked in on the big, burly manager having a phone conversation which he ended with, "Ok, see you when I get home. I love you." It's not directly related to car service but when the guy got off the phone I announced, "That's what I like to hear!" He looked kind of confused and asked, "What?" I said it was very encouraging to hear him tell his wife he loved her. He blushed a little and let me know that no matter who is talking to in his family he ends his phone calls that way because....I finished his sentence, "It could be the last thing they hear from you." His face brightened and he nodded emphatically before noting that in all his years working there no customer ever noticed or commented on that before but he had taken lots of ribbing from coworkers (not that he cared in the least). I just told him he made my day because I got good service, from friendly and seemingly competent people after a totally crap experience at my last shop, AND I got to witness a guy being good to his wife. He beamed and thanked me for the business and the compliment.

So this week I am counting unexpected good words. I also want to encourage all of you to be generous with your words, whether with loved ones or just people you encounter in your daily business.

Feel free to let me know when a good word took you by surprise and made your day.

Slice of Lime-Mona's Guide to Style

Before I get into the main post and to answer the question about the last picture in yesterday's post....they are apple peels. Congrats to those who guessed correctly.

A couple months ago Susie posted pictures about a Jaipur Salwar she enjoyed wearing. I left a comment admiring it, which Mona saw. Mona then emailed me saying if I would give her my size she'd send me a salwar kameez. I said I'd like to send her something as well. Imagine my surprise on Tuesday when a package arrived with not one but THREE salwar kameezes and matching dupattas (scarves).

Heck, I was impressed with the package itself. I liked that it was sewn into a muslin bundle with the seams sealed by wax. Yes, I am very easily charmed by simple things. I almost hated to disturb the even stitching.

First I will show you the salwar kameez I bought many years ago in Trinidad. I liked it because it is an Indian garment but it is tie dyed, which is popular among the Trinis of African descent. I loved how the garment showed a blending of the cultures. Alas, I have grown a bit large for my old salwar and it is a bit tight in certain spots.

Now onto the lovely gifts from Mona.

The repeating pattern reminds me of tiny quilt square patterns and I love the effect of the tight multicolored pattern. I also like that it's sleeveless for warmer weather. The dupatta ties it all together by combining the patterns from both the top and the bottom.



Next is a gorgeous rose one with gold trim. I love the color and simplicity of this one. The pants are a new style to me too but I like them. They are super long so they are meant to bunch up around your ankles. I am very partial to this one.



Finally, there was a lovely white organza salwar kameez with applique, embroidery, patchwork, and a crocheted trim. I had to take a close up of the details just on a sleeve to show you the beautiful handiwork. I wonder, did Mona choose the particular shade of green for Ms. Lime? ;)

This one felt elegant when I put it on, like I just should be carrying myself a bit more formally and with greater femininity.

They are all so comfortable and so pretty I just wanted to share them with you all and again say thanks to Mona for her sweet generosity toward me.

Farm Days

Today a few more pictures from the Harvest Festival.

The spring house where root vegetables would have been stored.

Onion skin dyed eggs. After dyeing the eggs the designs are scratched on with a pin or other sharp tool. I can remember my grandfather doing this when I was a child and I have done my own eggs in the past.

Dried flowers still bursting with color.

Our baker placing loaves in the outdoor bake oven. It can hold 60 loaves at once.

A nearly full bake oven.

Mmmm, can't you just smell the warm bready goodness? At the festival you can get a slice with fresh butter or fresh apple butter also made at the farm in the 19th century way.

A five strand braid of rye straw. The woman working this braid has completed 6 yards. She will need 25 yards of tightly braided rye straw to complete a sun bonnet for herself. The bits sticking out are where new pieces are added in. Each length of straw is approximately 12 inches. After the braid is completed the entire length will be put through a press to flatten it even more before it is sewn into the bonnet.

Here is an example of a competed bonnet. The string on it is a narrow woven tape which was made on the inkle loom.

Now comes the reader participation portion of the post. Can you guess what this picture is?

Quilts on Tuesday-Many Hands

As I mentioned yesterday, I was at the local Harvest Festival helping over the weekend. Last year I shared about the pretzel making I do there. Since I have started this series on quilting I thought I'd share about that part of the festival today. The Harvest Festival is the big fundraiser of the year. Visitors have the opportunity to learn about Pennsylvania German farm life in the 1800s and all that was involved in keeping a farm and household running. There's also plenty of traditional food to taste, a one room schoolhouse program, and a small encampment of Civil War reenactors. One of the things done to both demonstrate and raise some funds is a quilt raffle.

Each year at Harvest Festival a quilt which was completed during the year is displayed and raffled off. In front of the one being raffled the quilters sit and work on the quilt for the following year. Since I was on my own lunch break when I had a chance to come visit the quilters it was also lunch break for several of them. Normally there are several women working together on the quilt, not only during festival but through out the year as they cut and piece the patches as well as finish the quilting.

When I asked the quilters if I could sneak around behind them to get some pictures they told me to be sure to get a close up of the stitching. They were proud to show off their handiwork. It was a bit of a challenge to get the picture since the wind was blowing the quilt as it hung on the line but I hope it gives a feel for the lovely hand quilting.

Each year the quilting group chooses a traditional design to share with the public and each year visitors wait with great anticipation to see the finished product. It's a wonderful way the group gets to share so much time together making a beautiful quilt which can be used to raise money for the farm and be enjoyed by whoever wins it in the raffle.

Here is just one of the many hands that helped make the quilts. Beautiful isn't it?