Quilts are definitely easier

I think I've found the absolute worst clothing altering job you can do - removing the waistband from a pair of pants, fitting the waist and replacing it. I still say I would rather make something from scratch than alter it.

I've been losing weight recently due to the diabetes, my diet changes and my stepped-up exercise program. Right now I'm between two sizes, which is really aggravating. Eight or ten pounds or so I will be back in some clothes from 10 years ago but for now I'm buying a few things and making alterations as needed. Some of the things I had to alter were several pairs of Lands End and L.L. Bean khakis, which I live in most of the year.

Each had its own problem. The L.L. Bean pants were too tall in the rise. You know the situation, where you slip on the pants and the waistband is hovering slightly below your bra band? That doesn't seem to happen too often anymore, but these were "classic fit" in the world's worst "Mom jeans" fashion. So I removed the waistband completely, lowered the top line and refitted them with darts and taking in the side seams. Then, back on with the waistband and all the belt loops. It sounds so simple but let me tell you, picking out seams from factory-made clothing is a total pain. It took two hours to do one pair of pants. I spent the evening doing both pairs.

Then it was on to the Lands End pants, which have their own problem. I had bought the ones with elastic in the back waistband because pants that fit my tush are always too big in the waist, but these were a whole different category. I swear, you could get two people in the waist of those khakis! So I removed the front waistband, tailored and darted the front, and sewed them all back together this morning. It was definitely easier than last night's job, but not a picnic.

So at least I have a few pair of pants that mostly fit while the treadmill does its magic. I'm using the pants from 10 years ago as a measuring stick. First it was - ooh, can't even put them on. Then - well, they're on but not zipping. Then - I can zip them but I can't breathe! Right now, they're close, very close. Some people would even wear them as they are, but I can't see myself in tight pants. Not at my age!

Meanwhile, I'm working on some 3" blocks using the pattern from Bonnie Hunter's latest Quiltmaker "Addicted to Scraps" column and a charm pack of Moda's "Harvest Home". They are cute, if a little tedious.

Not even really sure how they will be arranged, but once I get all 72 made we'll hit the design wall and see what comes out.

Another reason not to live here

Well, in addition to topography that can best be described as "bowl-shaped", which traps any and all particulates in a cloud hovering over the city, this part of the southeast is blessed (cursed?) with a plethora of pines and oak trees which are busily churning out various pollen granules to bedevil those of us with less than perfectly behaved sinuses.

I give you this as an example: That mess is pollen from a southern red oak tree. Which I have. Right next to my house. There's clouds of the stuff all over the yard, my roof, clogging my gutters, covering my sidewalks.

You can see what a mess it makes of the mulch.

And it's been windy, so some of it has already blown away. It was worse yesterday.

I even have oak pollen tumbleweeds rolling around on the lawn. Oh, good grief.

I need a refill for my Astepro prescription.

Take my money, please

Mom is still picking up the pieces from her recent burglary. She is supposed to have a dusk to dawn light installed in the back yard. She's got the 16 foot tall pole and the fixture, just not the electrician to install it. He keeps putting her off. Bad economy or no, I assume that work up there is so good it doesn't matter whom he ticks off. There will always be another job around the corner. Pitiful.

And now she's trying to have the siding replaced on an outbuilding. It's like standing in the middle of the street waving a big stack of bills that no one want to take. She's called three siding installers and can't get anyone to commit to do the work. The first guy quoted the job and now won't call her back. The second wouldn't even come out. The third was there today, came up with an outrageous figure and couldn't tell her when he could get to it. When she tried to negotiate, he just jumped in his truck and drove off. Another case of his figuring there's a sucker on every street corner waiting to be fleeced so he doesn't have to deal with the ones that actually expect work done well, for a reasonable rate, and on time.

My sister-in-law claims this is a peculiar trait of the area; there are fewer of all kinds of craftsmen in that little town, so they get used to calling the shots due to lack of competition. I'm not so sure. I live in a metropolitan area with half a million people. The phone book is full of every type of resource you'd want, and you can't get a job done here either. When I remodeled my kitchen six years ago I must have called twenty contractors. Only two even came out to give me an estimate, and one of those wouldn't call me back. I finally latched onto the father-in-law of a co-worker, who was sort of a pain but at least finished the kitchen. I took a grim enjoyment out of the fact that several of those nonresponsive contractors aren't in business anymore. Gee, wonder why?

The trim on the outside of the house needs painting this spring, and I'm already dreading the search. If it didn't involve ladders and painting over your head twelve feet off the ground, I would do it myself; unfortunately, I don't have a death wish. What I do have is the phone number of a painter at the business where I used to work. I think he moonlights.

Photo adventures

Catsinger recently blogged about her experience at the DMV (which I am sorry to say are universally wretched). I got to thinking about the last two "photo opportunities" I had, my new driver's license and my passport renewal picture.

First, I want to make it clear than a ravin' beauty I ain't. I consider my appearance serviceable. All the features on my face work - well, my eyesight isn't what it could be, but that's another tale. I have two of all the bilaterally symmetrical parts, and my nose is centered where it should be. I have no vanity.

But my driver's license picture was the final insult after a terrible day waiting in lines followed by dealing with insolent employees followed by more waiting in lines. How to describe it? Grim might be a word. And haggard, in that special fluorescent-lit way - her camera flash did nothing to color balance the result. I'm praying I never get pulled over because not even a policeman should see that picture.

I realized last month that my passport will expire in July and figured that I should get a jump on the process and have the photos taken soon. So I thought, aha, I will circumvent part of the inherent problems in this situation and get the picture made right after my hair is cut and fixed. At least one problem solved.

So that's what I did. Right after I left the beauty shop I stopped at the local camera store that takes passport photos. Well, that didn't turn out like expected.

This guy was in a hurry. A big hurry. He took my ten dollars and motioned for me to sit on a stool in front of his backdrop. I was almost settled on the seat when - snap! went the camera, leaving me to sputter that I wasn't ready. Did that matter? Nope. One shot, one shot only.

He counted off the time and peeled the polaroid off its backing. Oh lord. It was dreadful. My mouth is set in a sort of rictus, every bit of my crepey chicken neck (gee, thanks for that gene, Mom) is exposed, and my eyes are sort of bugged out, probably from being startled by the flash. I took them in a kind of "Well, gee THANKS" way and slunk off to the car. If possible, it's even worse than my driver's license. The photos are sitting in my jewelry box until I get up the courage to try again.

But my hair looked fabulous.

Flowers and tomatoes and herbs, oh my!

Just a few terrible pictures of my handiwork. Sorry, I took them through the sliding door so they're not very good.

The flower bed/tomato patch: Patio planters:

Here's a close-up of one:

That's not all, but it gives you an idea why I'm tired and pretty sore from crawling around on the ground yesterday.

Requiem for a really unlucky squirrel

I was sitting at my computer this morning, eating a bowl of Cheerios while reading my email when BAM! suddenly there was a loud explosive noise from the backyard and my desk light went out. The UPS on the desktop computer started beeping. Oh darn, power outage.

I took a look out the back door but didn't see anything awry except for something that looked vaguely different about the transformer on the power pole behind the house which I couldn't pinpoint. I couldn't tell how many houses the outage impacted either. So, I looked up the power company outage hotline number (for the second time this month - there was a power interruption on Easter Sunday too) and reported it.

It wasn't more than 45 minutes before an electric company truck pulled up in front of my house. By then I was outside working so I walked over and told him what I had heard. He headed for the power pole on the back property line where my house feed originates. One look told him what was wrong - and what had done it. There's a type of fuse on the transformer, and it was blown. It would be a quick fix. The dangling disconnected end was what I had seen without realizing what was different. Then he pointed to the yard behind me. "Squirrel."

Yes indeed, there the poor thing lay, stiff as a board. It had evidently gotten on the top of the transformer and shorted across the poles with its body, the result being it was electrocuted immediately. Probably never knew what hit it. The power company guy said he had 10 or 12 of these happen a day. Man, it's hard being a squirrel.

Gardening - day one

Everything is planted except my manger baskets because I forgot to buy new coco fiber liners. The pots flanking the driveway were a nightmare. Roots from last year's ferns were so thick that I dumped the entire clump of dirt out on a tarp in one big pot-shaped mass and attacked it with a garden fork. I could only reuse about half the soil from each pot. The rest was more roots than dirt. That took far longer than I planned, and that's why I didn't get to the furniture today. Well, that and loosening the dirt in my flower beds. Gotta love that Garden Claw!

And I filled the birdbath, so tell the birds, the pool is open!