Weekend News...

Every Saturday night, I get a letter from my Dad. Full of his week's goings-ons. You know, like the crow he shot and hung, spread eagle, over the garden fence. Farmer MacGregor would have been proud. Or the snake he shot while it was poaching one of his birds' nests- don't mess with his baby birds. Or, on a less violent note, the 500 pounds of gravel he moved from point A to point B. His letters always end with a few words of wisdom. Being good and doing good and using your brain. Thought I'd make this a little return note to the folks at home, since the weekend is slow, blog-wise.

Mom, here is that dragon fly fabric I was telling you about. Isn't it pretty? I think it'll go well with the other blues you have for Jon's quilt. I was able to get 2 yards. I have been on a post card jag, here lately, so maybe a 4x6" piece will be missing when I mail it to you...

Papa, look at that corn!! Yummy stuff. (My Dad is the quintessential corn fan- that's why he shoots the crows. He even pickles corn. I don't know how it's done, exactly, but I remember, as a child, that it involved a 50 gallon trash can and skimming mold off at regular intervals. blech! But he says it's quite tasty. An acquired taste, no doubt. Very sour.) I have frozen a total of about 55 quarts. None pickled. Why ruin perfectly good corn? And tonight was the last of it. Glad to have it done and over with, although, to be truthful, I rather enjoy it- my feet are the only ones that complain. I also canned the first tomatoes- a small basket. 25 quarts. But it is a start and with the corn being done for, I have time on my hands. While waiting for the last batch of corn to cool, I sat down to a bowl of corn and a sliced tomato from the garden. The ox is worthy of his hire, eh?

Bekah's stitches are looking appropriately gruesome. Every time I change the bandage, she smiles a goofy grin and says, "That looks wheeled." Weird. I told her she was like a quilt now, all sewed up. She says, "Mom, I don't have stitches all over me!"