Adventures at Cottontail Cottage

 

Feeling summery? That little quilt part was a collaged hat that I made long ago for one of those art quilt group projects where each person stated a subject and 2 colors and then everyone made something meeting those requirements.  I think this was “hat” and orange and yellow. Frankly the blocks were so varied in each set that I thought the resulting quilts (for those who assembled them) were pretty strange. But I did like this little block and the challenge was fun. Anyway, it says summer to me, so here you go. 

It's been another one of those odd months. No surprise, really, after losing my dad... so much emotion to process, so many tasks to handle, plus work and life and all. But summer is here on Whidbey Island, and I'm enjoying remembering summer - the early morning bell from the summer camp across the lake, the distant sound of children playing, the very long dusky summer evenings. 

I have made yet another discovery about life here on the island. I've written about the abundance of bunnies on the south end of the island, and there are quite a few that hop around my yard in the early morning. Well, between my several trips to California and his own travels, my lawn mower guy (“the Lawn Ranger”) and I were not able to connect and as a result my lawn has grown and grown and grown. It is now more a wildflower/grass prairie. Quite pretty in its own way. Here is Rosie roaming in the grass.

 

 

But a few days ago, Rosie came to me with something in her mouth. I thought it was a pinecone. No, it was a teeny baby bunny. ACK! Luckily Rosie is a gentle soul and retrievers have notoriously soft mouths -- so she didn't bite or maul it, and it was obviously alive but so newborn that its eyes weren't open yet. I carefully scooped it up and off I went to see if I could find the nest.

 

I did not take this picture and this is not my nest, but I post it here to show what one looks like.

It took a lot of hunting, but I finally found the spot I think it might have been -- there were some tufts of fur around a burrow sort of hole, so I placed the baby in there, bent some grass over it, and hoped for the best.

When I checked the next morning, there were no bunnies in sight and the burrow was empty. So I hoped that mama came and found her baby and took it to safety. 

Unfortunately, later that day, after I'd restricted the dogs to another area of the yard, Rosie came to me with that look in her eye.... which means something in her mouth. Yep, another baby. Also alive. I did not know where it came from but took it back to the original burrow, hoping, hoping.

 

 

 

I've now put stakes around the bunny area and am keeping the dogs on leash in the yard at all times. Research tells me that babies become independent in about 3 weeks, so I will hope that by then the dogs can roam freely without finding any surprises. 

Big lesson learned? Keep the lawn mowed down SHORT at this time of year, so the bunnies will nest elsewhere. Incidentally, when I read up on bunny nests, one expert said that they often nest in yards of homes with big dogs -- because the mama knows it is safer and there are less likely to be more dangerous predators like cats and raccoons. Smart mommy bunny, eh?

I really do enjoy seeing the bunnies about and have thought that I'm living in a Cottontail Cottage, but the possibility of the dogs disrupting babies in their nest is not something I want to do every summer.

 

 

Meanwhile, there was this. In May, when I was on my way to California to see my dad, I stopped to get breakfast -- and I tripped and fell in a parking lot. I had what I now know is, in medical terms, a FOOSH -- "fall on out-stretched hands." My hands were scraped and definitely sore but I felt around and nothing felt seriously hurt, no sense of anything broken, so I cleaned myself off and continued on my way. Once I got to California, my sister and I were absorbed with my dad and his care, so I just took advil and did some icing from time to time. Well, fast-forward to two weeks later when, back home, my dr suggested xrays of both hands and wrists. Turns out I have a small fracture in one hand and a bone bruise and soft tissue injury in the other. I came away with a splint on one and instructions to wrap the other wrist when it was sore.

 

So - good news was nothing serious, no surgery needed, nothing displaced, etc. (Yes, friends, you are right, I broke my wrist LAST March in a similar FOOSH fall. But that was way worse.) This has mainly been inconvenient -- and I have learned that having something wrapped on BOTH hands makes me very very cranky. VERY CRANKY. I am at the tail end of healing, so that is good. But sheesh. I know that both falls (last year and this) were when I was seriously tired and distracted and stressed, and probably paying less attention to my feet than I should have been, but I'm still boosting my vitamin D and have a bone density test scheduled for next month. I don't want to do this any more. 

 

 The other good news is that with the left hand pretty functional, I was able to resume quilting on my longarm!

One more random thing making me happy. I was in a Barnes and Noble in California and came upon this insulated metal tumbler from Rifle Paper company. I love their pretty patterns so it came home with me. It keeps my morning coffee very hot so I can linger on the deck, and it makes me happy every day.

What’s making you happy these days? 

 

Time and Other Passings

     I am surprised to see how much time has passed since my last blog post, and yet I know that the past few months have slid by because of many challenges. During that time, I traveled back to Northern California several times to see my ailing dad, and spend time with him and my sister. I was able to be there with them when my dad passed away on May 16. What a difficult goodbye that was, and yet we knew that him being at home, pain-free, under the care of a an amazing hospice team, and with friends and family visiting, made the end of his life as good as it could have been. 

     My dad was a big presence in our lives. My sister and I attribute our love of all things creative to him, as he was a relentlessly energetic and creative “maker.” When other parents might have given their kids toys, my dad took us to the hobby store and let us pick out kits and discover new things to make. We learned that hands-on work ethic and the development of an artistic eye from him, to be sure. It is no accident that all three of us kids have made creativity a significant part of our adult lives. 

     My dad had a lifelong, obsessive love of cars. I teased him when I was in college that he never knew the names of my friends but could identify them instantly by their cars. Some years back, I found this photo of him from the early 1950’s, perched on his beloved 1949 Mercury. When he told me that he had to sell the car to pay the hospital bill after my sister was born, I knew I needed to make an art quilt about it. 

     Now we go forward, thinking of him and my mom and my brother somewhere together. If there is a heaven, I’m sure my dad is driving a Ferrari there. 

       So, I am recalculating once again, adjusting to the changed size of my family and knowing that my parents are, finally, free of the pain and frustrations that plagued their last years. I am working on getting caught up on work and home and the business that comes with day to day life. 

       It would be easier if I had two functional hands, but… oops. While driving to California a few weeks ago, I tripped in a parking lot and did one of those outstretched hand falls. When I got to California, I was immersed in events around my dad’s care and passing, so did not appreciate until I returned home that my left hand was, perhaps, more sore than it should have been. I learned that there is a small fracture that requires stabilizing by means of a rather cumbersome splint.  Ah, well.  

      This, too, shall pass. 

 

Out and About

 Well, finally! Work has subsided a bit and I've had the time and energy to get out into the world to have fun! A good friend has been staying on the island for a bit, so we've taken the opportunity to spend some time together. Last week, we met up in Coupeville to have an early dinner at another favorite waterside spot, the Front Street Grill. That picture up there is the view from our table, looking across Puget Sound toward Camano Island.

 Coupeville is known for its Penn Cove mussels -- in fact that water is Penn Cove, really. Anyway, that is what I had -- very fresh mussels cooked in a sauce of Whidbey's blackberry port, shallots, and garlic. Totally delicious.

Dori enjoyed some gorgeous crab cakes and a salad. And yes, we celebrated our time together with a glass of champagne. 

This weekend, while Dori was still here, we decided to go roaming. So we headed straight north off of the island to poke around the town of Anacortes. Driving off of Whidbey Island took us over the Deception Pass bridge, which is an absolutely stunning bridge over Deception Pass. We did not stop for photos as both sides of the bridge were mobbed with cars and tourists walking over the bridge, but I can assure you that it is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. And it's not just me ... Deception Pass was recently ranked as one of the top five most beautiful state parks in the US.

It's a narrow bridge so I was paying strict attention to the road and traffic. But Dori got this picture out of her window. Did I say that it was gorgeous, clear-blue-sky day?

Anacortes is a seaport town, probably known most widely as where one gets the ferry to the San Juan Islands. The old downtown area had cute shops and restaurants in old brick buildings -- lots of interesting art galleries and shops featuring decor and antiques and fun items. I enjoyed poking around a bit in Fabrics Plus, a small but well-stocked fabric store that seemed to have anything anyone might want. It is always good to know the most accessible sewing/quilting resources.

We stopped for lunch at The Secret Cove, a little spot tucked around a corner among boat yards. The view was fabulous.

The food was... fine, really. Nothing fantastic, but the view made up for it. Did you notice the snow covered mountains?

We decided that the day would not be complete without a stop at Greenbank Farm for a slice of Whidbey pie. I will confess that I prefer other desserts to pie, but I can attest to this being the best pie I have ever had. Ever. We choose local marionberry pie, a la mode, of course.

 It was a lovely day. A great friend, gorgeous scenery, and good food. We covered a lot of conversational territory and laughed a lot. Dori and I met in law school and have known each other for over forty years, and yet we never run out of things to talk about. Isn't that the best kind of friendship? So it was a very therapeutic day, indeed.

After dropping Dori back at her mom's house, I took back roads home, and as always was struck by the surprise of such beautiful views. 

 One more thing... this week I got talking with a guy in a local shop. The conversation turned, as if often does here, I've noticed, to what brought each of us to Whidbey Island. "I've just always had a thing about islands," he said. "and I just knew I wanted to live on an island." "Yes!!" I think I actually yelped with pleasure when he said that. It is exactly how I have felt, and he is the first person who has had ever expressed that same thing. Me, I trace it to the novels of Elisabeth Ogilvie that took place off of the coast of Maine, but who knows. 

I am just always so happy to here. And isn't that exactly how one should feel about one's home?

Chilly February

 

 My first February on Whidbey Island has presented a little bit of everything. Some snow flurries this past week, with enough snow to cover the ground and the rooftops and frost all of the trees for a half of a day. That was followed by some sunny but very chilly days, and then today I was surprised by a rather remarkable hailstorm, with pea-sized hail stones bouncing merrily off of the deck. I wonder what March will bring? 

 

Speaking of crazy weather, my former home of Sonoma County, California has had a crazy weather week, with a rather significant snowfall where it never, ever, snows. My sister sent me this picture of her front yard in Cloverdale, which is a few minutes north of where I lived, and which is known for being the hot spot in the county. Very exciting!

My days have been filled with work, mainly - but I am trying to get better about making some time each day for something creative. I'm thinking a lot about balance these days, and trying to ensure that snarly litigation isn't consuming all of my brain. 

Yesterday I felt the need to get out of the house for a bit. I fashioned a lunch date for myself -- a visit to the nearby Dairy Queen for a take-out lunch, which I took to a nearby quiet beach for a scenic break. The Dairy Queen is the only fast food restaurant on the south end of the island, grandfathered in when zoning laws were enacted prohibiting them, I think. It's kind of funny how ordinary fast food can feel like a real treat when it's not easily available. 

 So I enjoyed popcorn shrimp and fries and a fountain diet coke while I sat in the car, breathed the chilly air, and read my novel. (I was reading "The Hotel Nantucket" by Elin Hilderbrand, about another favorite island.) It struck me as funny that I was reading about a Nantucket summer while enjoying Whidbey winter. And in case you're wondering, the popcorn shrimp was surprisingly good.

Of course I got out and spent some time roaming the beach, gazing out at the snow covered mountains across Puget Sound and poking around at scallop shells. 

I had the whole place to myself, except for a bald eagle that cruised by overhead. It was lovely and peaceful. 

 Before I left, I could not resist leaving a quilted heart for someone to find. Shhhh! Don't tell! 

Back at home, I got back to work finishing some donation quilts. My new quilt guild has a lot of donation programs, and so over the last few weeks I've cut and sewn triangles to make a few little quilts for the neonatal intensive care unit at an area hospital. Apparently they are in need of baby boy quilt-lets, so I pulled pastel blues and greens and turquoises and have had a happy time getting them together. I finished quilting them yesterday and binding them today.

I usually hand-sew bindings, but for baby quilts that will be washed frequently, I opted for machine sewing the borders -- and how satisfying to get the binding finished so quickly!

 For another use-up-the-scraps project, I have been cutting squares and triangles to make colorful bears paw blocks. I was inspired by this picture, which I found on Pinterest without a source...

 

It has been on my "want to make" list for quite a while, so I mapped out a plan:

 

 

I've started in cutting and sewing. There are a whole lot of half-square triangles for those bear claws, so I think I'll be working on this for a while. But the bright colors make me happy and it makes for fun, mindless sewing. I love revisiting scraps and remembering where I used the fabric before. Some of it has been in my stash for quite a few years.

In other exciting news, I made a delicious recipe for lasagna soup that turned out really well -- another great cold-weather soup recipe for winter rotation. As odd as it sounds, serving with a dollop of ricotta cheese on top really added to the creamy lasagna sensation. 

I have dipped back into a bit of sketching and watercolor painting, thanks to a weekly zoom class with urban sketcher Becky Cao. Wow, am I rusty! But I'm having fun. This morning's class was a challenging scene of a Vancouver cafe -- with a person, even. Very fun.

Drop a comment and let me know what you are doing to keep yourself happy this month! I'm off to get dinner on the table (another soup night!), so ta ta for now!

 

 

 

 

What's Getting Me Through

There are times in one's life where things just feel ... hard. Sad. Sluggish. And I've been in one of those periods for a bit now. 

It didn't come out of nowhere. In the space of a few days, I learned of the very unexpected death of a cousin who is not that much older than me. I learned that another good friend is having serious health challenges, not the least of which is a level of dementia that requires a move to a 24 hour care home. This time of year involves anniversaries of some very difficult experiences as well. And those things have long echos, I have realized. And then there is the news. I haven't even been able to tune it at all, it is just so discouraging.

So this has been a time of coping, of accepting, of putting one foot in front of the other, and trying to find the pockets of pleasure and contentment in each day. I live in a beautiful place and I am proud of myself for having gotten myself here. I have a lovely daughter and a comfortable home. I have two happy dogs and two curious cats who keep me smiling. I have wonderful friends who appear in my life every day through phone calls and texts and emails and social media. 

Several bloggers I follow post regularly about the things that are saving their lives at the moment. (You can go check out Anne Bogel at Modern Mrs. Darcy and Katie Noah Gibson at Cake, Tea and Dreams -- they are both wonderful writers.) In this time-of-the-weird-mood, I have been thinking about what has been getting me through. 

Reading, of course. I've read two novels I highly recommend -both from favorite writers whose books always seem like gifts.

Sewing, also. I find piecing so meditative sometimes. Last week, I pulled out a bundle of fabric that a friend had passed on to me when she was cleaning out her sewing room. "I love the fabric," she said, "but realistically I'm not going to get around to making anything with it." It suited my mood on a drizzly Sunday to cut it up and sew it together with a very simple free pattern, and as soon as it is quilted and done I will send it back to her. 

Long arm quilting provides another regular pleasure. I was so happy to get this Skip to My Lou quilt all quilted, and I had a great time doing it. I am slowing getting reacquainted with the tricks of long arm quilting.

I sit most of the day to work at my computer (which, I confess, has been part of my recent cranky malaise, too.) So I've decided to get up every 60-90 minutes and do 15 minutes of quilting at the longarm. Machine quilting as exercise! I'm making slow progress, and making some pretty wonky feathers on this scrappy donation quilt, but it feels good.

What with packing and moving house, I've not sketched or painted for AGES. And by ages I mean well over a year. So I decided that I needed to do something to get back to it. I signed up for a 4-session zoom class from Becky Cao. She is a sketcher I've followed for a long time, because I love her loose, spontaneous sketches that capture bits of her daily life.  So, after a big of a search in my house for the supplies (where did I put my watercolor kit? Where are my pens? Has the box of sketchbooks been unpacked yet?), Sunday morning found me at the computer sketching along with Becky.

It was a really good 90 minute session. And although I sure felt rusty - yikes, how to make those watercolors go where I wanted! -- I was pleased that I touched paint to paper again. I'm already looking forward to next Sunday morning. I'm thinking Sunday morning would make a good regular sketch time after the class is done, too.

Mainly because work has been so busy, I've mostly been home inside. But I did take a trip off island last week to run errands and to meet a friend for lunch and do some shopping --and at long last get everything completed to get an enhanced driver's license, complete with maiden name and new address. What a paperwork tangle that was. The twilight ferry ride home was lovely.

This past Saturday, after the usual recycling center visit to dump still more cardboard, I took myself out to breakfast at Whidbey Donut again. They do excellent scrambled eggs, and I enjoyed my coffee and book in front of the fireplace.

Oh, one more thing bringing me much pleasure. Last week, Caroline and I took our cats to the vet for routine checks, and I snapped this photo of Maybel and Kaya hanging out in their carriers in the car.

 That photo instantly made me think "Somebody's going to emergency, somebody's going to jail" from the Eagles' song "New York Minute" -- and from the West Wing episode of the same name.  That, in turn, caused me to find and rewatch the West Wing episode -- it's episode 16 from season 2, in case you are wondering -- and it's one of my all time favorites. Sam relies on "the magical powers of a clean shirt," CJ has a "woot canal" and considers the social inequality of cartography. 

That episode made me so happy that I've started in from season 1, episode 1 to watch them all again. What a pleasure to spend some time with these smart, funny characters each evening. 

I went on a hunt to find some funny, cheerful cards to send a friend -- and came across this one. Kind of summed up my mood. I've sent it off to a different friend, because I know it will make her laugh too.

 So, friends, that's what's getting me through. How about you?

Are You Okay?

 I recently watched the Netflix documentary series "Harry and Meghan," which I really enjoyed. I understand that there has been a fair amount of controversy about their making that series. But I can appreciate how they would want to tell their own story, after the press has so relentlessly reported false or twisted stories. 

One thing that struck me is this: in one episode, Meghan talks about how, at an emotional low point, someone -- not a friend, but someone in a rather remote, professional role -- asks her, "Are you okay?" And Meghan reflects briefly on the power of that question, how meaningfully it created a connection, how for that moment it felt like someone saw her and cared about her, and how important it is for all of us to check in with the people around us in our lives to see if they are okay.

That flashed me back to a recent remarkable experience. 

A few weeks back, I went to a Social Security office to get various official documents sorted with my new address. Part of that process inevitably involves the official record history that my name went from Perin to my married name and then back to Perin. So I've learned that for any of these official sorts of things, I bring along a file with the relevant official documents -- birth certificate, voter registration card, court divorce order with authorization to resume use of maiden name, etc. (By the way, isn't it utterly ridiculous that you have to get an actual court order to resume using the name you were born with?)

So there I was, sitting in a cubicle with a plastic window between me and the Social Security guy as he flipped through the documents I'd handed over. "Oh," he said, "a divorce order." He looked up. "How long were you married?" "20 years," I replied. And he paused, then said, sincerely, "Are you okay? How are you doing?" 

It stopped me in my tracks. In all the times I've presented this information to get various official things done, no one has ever acknowledged that divorce is strange and painful. His taking a moment to acknowledge that and ask me if I was okay was such a powerful, thoughtful moment. 

I assured him that I was totally fine, and that it was long past, actually. 

But I thanked him for asking. And as he continued to sort through paper, I mentioned that no one had ever asked me that before, and how very important it felt to me that he asked.  

It has stayed in my mind, how unusual and good it felt to have someone I didn't know recognize that something significant had happened, and ask me if I was okay. And it's made me think about how we go through our days and weeks, and years, even, interacting with a lot of people but not really seeing them, not acknowledging things we might recognize are happening to them. We are polite. We don't want to be intrusive or inappropriate, and we're often all so busy. 

But gosh, if we have a clue that something difficult might be going on for someone, just asking "Are you okay?" might be a real gift. 

 

One of Those Weeks

  

 Well, friends, it has been one of THOSE weeks. You probably know the kind. Way, way, WAY too much work. A lot of things around the house that need to be done, but no time to do them. Clouds of dog hair wafting around the floor. Laundry needing to be done. Christmas stuff needing to be put away. And that cranky, tired feeling of being laden with too much stuff rolling around in my head.

So I will start with a highlight from yesterday. I had a list of errands to accomplish (recycling center, grocery store, etc.). But I'd not eaten before I dashed out, so I decided to treat myself to breakfast out, and I stopped at Whidbey Donuts. 

 

This little cafe and donut shop is maybe 5 miles from my house, behind the field where the weekly farmers' market takes place in spring through fall. It was raining yesterday, and it turned out to be the perfect spot to sit, relax for a bit, and enjoy a yummy breakfast.

I was taken with the donut art all over the restaurant, which I will have to inspect on future visits. 

And although I did not stop to take a photo, the breakfast was delicious. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and -- surprise - a grilled donut. A novelty experience, to be sure. They had cut a plain glazed donut in half, sort of hamburger bun style, and put it face down on the grill for a bit so the surface was crispy.

Google tells me that this is a THING. If you go look, you can find recipes and images of sandwiches and desserts featuring grilled donuts. Who knew.

 

Anyway, it was a nice morning break. I've been reading Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid, so sitting, sipping my coffee, nibbling my grilled donut, and reading was a perfect pause. 

The novel, by the way, is quite enjoyable. The author has said it is loosely based on Fleetwood Mac, and is about the relationships between various band members as they become famous in the 1970's. It's told in an ongoing interview style that makes for interesting reading, as each character tells his point of view which is often quite different from the view of other characters. A movie is in the works, I hear.

One of my errands was a stop at a local appliance store to search for a replacement gas range. The one above (excuse the fingerprints and grime) is what came with the house and what we have been using since then. But on Thanksgiving, issues became apparent -- mainly, the vague smell of propane gas ALL the time in the kitchen. After various repair visits and gas line inspections, it was determined that the range had a leak in a part which was no longer available, so the range would have to be replaced. 

Along the way, I did get better acquainted with two neighbors who helped me pull the range out and shut off the gas line, which I greatly appreciated. I've also learned that the propane gas smell is from a substance called Mercaptan, a harmless chemical in and of itself which is added to odorless propane gas so any dangerous leak can be detected. I can not tell you how many times the gas company people have said the word Mercaptan to me over the last several weeks.

I will spare you the story of "how I lived without an oven or stovetop" from Thanksgiving to early January (which would include a deeply moving segue into the agony of not being able to bake the ritual Christmas cookies). Suffice it to say that I have become a lot more familiar with the benefits of my Instant Pot, and have used my crockpot, toaster oven, and microwave oven a whole lot. I can also report that in a pinch, Walker Shortbread will make a reasonable substitute when you are desperately craving the family traditional  holiday shortbread. 

I now have an excellent replacement range on order which is expected to be installed next week. Turns out that the tricky part was not choosing a gas range; it was finding one that would be available sometime before March. 

Oh, one more thing. See how that range up there has two ovens? I thought that might be a handy feature, and it turned out that the top part (broiler and shallow oven) worked fine for a lot of things. But if you're tall, like me, and pulling a casserole dish or roasting pan (say, with a big ol' turkey) out of the lower oven, then you are pretty much down on the floor ... with two dogs eager to investigate and thrilled to have delicious smelling food right at their snout level. So the new range will have one normal oven, with the typical storage drawer at ground level. I can hardly wait.

Meanwhile, in another break from work, last weekend I loaded another small quilt top onto the long arm. I have no idea when I made this. I vaguely recall that I had a small assortment of fabric that I'd bought because the prints were just too charming to pass up. Look at those pink clamshells! And the abstract seaweed print on white! And the little whale tail on navy blue! And starfish! Somewhere along the way I decided that I'd mix in some other things and cut them into equilateral triangles for a someday baby gift or donation quilt. I still love these fabrics and the unusual pink-navy-gold color combination. 

 So yesterday afternoon (instead of dealing with the laundry, dog hair, and Christmas decor) I started in with the quilting a bit. I like the quilting to emphasize the part of the quilt I really like -- and I realized with this, it was the triangles themselves. Plus I thought I needed to ease back into ruler quilting with something that is not too challenging. So, quilting straight lines to emphasize the triangles is now under way. 

If you've never quilted with a ruler, on the longarm you hold the ruler down with your left hand, and guide the machine with your right, keeping the ruler foot gliding along the edge of the ruler. I had forgotten how easy it is to just veer off away from the ruler, so what should be a straight line turns into a strange arc heading off for parts unknown. I've already had to do a bit of ripping. Ah well, it's what this practice is for. 

So, there you have it. The week ahead promises to be another crazy work week, but I now have the knowledge that I'll soon have a working stovetop and oven back in the kitchen. Plus Miss C is quite intrigued at hearing about grilled donuts, so I suspect there will be a return visit to Whidbey Donuts sometime soon.

Happy January to you all, friends!