Door Knobs, Panties and Cherry Pie

What a week this has been. Some weeks are like that in any field. This week, I have been frantically trying to interview witnesses for a bloody hearing, tomorrow. The more people I spoke to, the worse it got. I frequently get concerned about my cases. This one had me distressed. Today, it took a better turn and I feel better about the recommendation I will make. So after I finished up my last interview, I was feeling more relaxed.

It occurred to me that I was only minutes away from a quilt shop that I like but rarely have the opportunity to visit. I decided to take advantage of the fact that I was in the vicinity and dropped in. I picked up several pieces of fabric I don't need:


Except for the blue, they are a little out of my comfort zone and it makes me happy that they called my name. I think the design of the pinkish one resembles the quilting I have been doing on the Surf and Sand quilt.


Right next door to the quilt shop, there was a store that sells holiday decorations by Jim Shore. I fell in love with several of them but didn't buy any. I think I am going to do some online shopping, later, and see if I can find some on sale.

As I was leaving the area, I passed a bakery and decided to stop. I bought a fresh cherry pie and took it home to Husband, who was working at home. It was a gorgeous autumn day so we sat and had pie this afternoon. It does not get much better than that, particularly on the tail end of a damned hard week.

I trotted myself upstairs, determined to finish quilting the Surf and Sand quilt. I ended up having to do some more ripping but managed to get most of the puckers out. I really enjoyed working on it and practicing the sorta McTavishing. I'm happy with how it is looking.



I still need to trim it up, prepare the binding and stitch it on. It is smaller than the Patriotic quilt and considerably lighter. Because the background quilting is so dense, it is stiffer. I am not sure if I am going to like snuggling under it but we'll see after I get it done. I ended up losing some of the border on the quilt because it was acting up so it is not as large as I planned. I have not done dense quilting, before and I'll need to adjust, next time. I suspect that is the cause of the puckering.

I am excited to be reaching a point where I can start a new project!

Husband and I are selling a small older home in Oklahoma City. Husband bought it nearly thirty years ago and we are set to close on it at the end of this month. We got a call from our realtor, this evening. We have a problem. Some %$#@&^% broke in and STOLE ALL THE ANTIQUE GLASS DOORKNOBS!!!!!

GGGRRRRR. I am just so disgusted. Thieves are pathetic. The owner-to-be really likes those knobs. We'll have to replace them and don't know if she will want antique value or whether she will accept new ones that look like the antiques.

Did I mention that I detest thieves? Well, let me back off that a bit. One of my kids is sitting in detention because she ran away from home and was gone two weeks. She stole panties from a department store because, as she put it, dirty underwear is disgusting. I suggested that she could pay them back for the underwear so she wouldn't have to feel guilty about it. She looked at me incredulously and informed me that, "Why should I pay them? You'd steal underwear, too, if you didn't have any clean panties."

Well then.

Here are more quilt pictures.





No pictures of the girls, today. Jezebel came into the house, yesterday with what looked like blood on her head, neck and back. All we can figure is that she killed something and rolled in it. She seemed fine although to tell the truth, I have a feeling something is going on with her. I have thought about this a lot and can't put my finger on what is different, but I have an uneasy feeling that all is not right. Let's hope it is just imagining on my part or, if not, something minor. Her appetite and energy level are the same.



I am going to go drink a Mike's Hard Cranberry Lemonade and kick back.

El Loco is in the House (no, I don't mean Jezebel or Evelyn)

Yesterday, I took the girls to the vet for Jezebel's last regular melanoma vaccine. It was black as the inside of a cow when we left the house and the sun still wasn't up when we got to the veterinary hospital. Fortunately, a crew of four electricians was working on something so I felt safe enough to take the girls out of the car and hang out on the lawn waiting for the sun to rise. The electricians finished up just before the place opened and drifted off in their respective vehicles. I was sitting on the park bench with a girl on either side (they like to sit on furniture). Each electrician slowed down as he passed to compliment me on my beautiful girls. :)

Once inside, we waited another hour and a half to be called. Jezebel snuggled on the sofa with her head in my lap while I read. Evelyn was too busy looking around to doze. At one point, a large Border Collie came in (I didn't realize they were that big - compared to the pig in "Babe," they look smaller). Next thing you know, I hear a low pitched growl and I immediately looked over, thinking that Border Collie was talking smack to Evelyn. But no. The Border Collie looked harmless as a Labrador, wagging its tail, nervously. EVELYN had her head down, hackles raised and teeth bared!! What the???? She must have slipped a cog!! That Border Collie would have made mince meat of her.

Hard to imagine such violence could erupt from this sweet puppy.


I figure the Border Collie said something snotty to her in dogspeak but there is just no excuse for such rude behavior, especially for a Samoyed! It crossed my mind that she was acting out of fear but perhaps I am just being one of those parents who blames everything on the other kids (next thing you know, I will attribute it to ADHD). The fact is, she was clear on her side of the sofa and wandered her little sassy butt all the way to the back to get in the Border Collie's face! And where was my mind that I was not paying attention?

Jezebel lost about a quarter pound in two weeks but that is not a problem. She has been eating well. We switched her dog food to a higher grade right after the last visit and perhaps it has fewer calories. More likely, because El Loco has been out of town, she hasn't been eating nearly as many treats and snacks.

I asked them about her muzzle changing color and they assured me this is expected and normal.


They said the hair will grow back but it may be a different color. When I look closely at it, it looks like it is coming back white. It looks like she has less hair than two weeks ago, and I think she does, but the real thing going on (I believe) is that the grey skin behind it has turned pink and that makes her muzzle look a little bald. She is sneezing and snorting less and we believe her poor snout is starting to heal from the radiation.


I would not be surprised if no hair grew back on the black part around her snout that meets the muzzle but I think it will look fine no matter what. If it doesn't grow back at all, I don't care.

I worked at home yesterday and managed to get most of the blue parts of the Patriotic quilt quilted. I am new at this and when I got to the end of the quilt, it was really a problem in the lower right corner (bumpy). The back looks not so good, either. I am probably going to end up doing some thread ripping. Oh well, that goes with it.

I have the Surf, Sand and Snowflakes Challenge organized on the HGTV Message Board. What that amounts to is that several ladies are using the same fabric line to make blocks and will post pictures to see how we interpret them. Presumably, they will all look different and it will be really nifty keen to see them all. When you are just presented with a fabric not necessarily of your choosing, it makes you stretch a bit. That is a good thing. Here are some pilfered pictures (from someone's Flickr account) of the fabric line we are using:





The fabric line is Marcus Brothers Surf and Sand.

I'd be tempted to say that person on the Flikr page was a little dotty for taking pictures of fabric except it would be the pot calling the kettle black. I have some of the fabric, myself, and took a picture (and I do that a lot!):


I have several half yards of the rest of the collection en route from the online stores.

The husband is back home from Spain and I have periodically gone downstairs to hug him, just because I can! He has come upstairs a couple of times to hug me for the same reason.

Off to work on files...

Home Visits

I spent a little time with the girls out back, this afternoon.


Do you see Evelyn's tongue peeking out?









They didn't catch any squirrels but they sniffed a bunch.

I try to make home visits to each of the parents in custody/visitation cases, if possible. A lot of homes are just lovely - they are in gorgeous neighborhoods, beautifully decorated on the inside, large, sweeping, landscaped yards, copper pots hanging in the kitchen - you get the picture. Just because people are involved in a custody/visitation dispute doesn't necessarily mean they aren't successful people with good jobs. Obviously.

Other homes, however, are in neighborhoods that are downright dangerous. I always leave word with someone when I am going to ANY home but Husband threatens to send the SWAT team in if I don't immediately call him when I finish up in some areas. Seriously, I probably ought to have my head examined to go into certain neighborhoods. Don't think I don't worry about it.

Not far from where I live is a very old (for America) city - one of the oldest on the East Coast. At some point, it became a bustling, enterprising city for free blacks. After the Civil War, freed slaves settled in the area and to this day, it has a large African American population. Unfortunately, it has become extremely economically depressed in the past decades although there appears to be some civic pride that has re-emerged and attempts to rebuild the infrastructure and attract business were in full swing before the current financial crisis.

There is one particular neighborhood that is so crime-ridden that I hate to even drive near it. As one of my dear friends who is a criminal defense lawyer put it - "That neighborhood keeps me in business!" Shootings, rapes, condemned houses, rampant drug abuse, whore houses (I know of three busts in the past year and the area is less than a half mile by a half mile), truancy cases, gangs, CPS complaints (child abuse/neglect), robberies, you name it. I had one GAL kid who lived NEAR the neighborhood who refused to go to school. He was big for his age, played football, weighed over 200 pounds and was six foot two. Eventually, we found out why he wouldn't go to school - he had to walk past that neighborhood to the bus stop. And he was too scared.

Anytime of the day or night that you drive by the little convenience store on the corner, there are at least four black men wandering aimlessly in the street, many with the stereotypical brown paper bags in their hands. Young minority girls (black or Hispanic, usually) in too-tight pants and flashy clothes push baby strollers up and down the sidewalk. Many of them are known hookers (I know this because I work with the local police officers). I frequently see elderly men of all races wandering around and have wondered if they've just fallen on hard times and this is all they can afford. Some of the parents of my clients (actually, step parents who are considerably older than their paramour) are Vietnam vets who never found their way and ended up there. Young black males in doo rags, hoodies and low slung pants constantly shuffle up and down the sidewalk, generally yakking on a cell phone. This is one stereotype that appears to be justified - shuffling, that is. I think it has something to do with the pants that are dragging them down. Trash is scattered everywhere. No one picks up the garbage, no one trims the hedges. The awnings on windows are ripped and flutter about. Broken windows are boarded up rather than replaced or repaired. As often as not, there are towels or newspaper in the windows rather than curtains. The insides of the houses are typically dark (because the windows are covered up), and many don't have carpeting - it frequently was pulled up at one point because a pet ruined it. The carpet is not replaced, it is just hauled out and left on the curb, blocking the sidewalks - which haven't been edged in years.

So anyway, I recently had a home visit in that neighborhood and was going to visit an African immigrant who was embroiled in a custody dispute with the child's mama. For those who read my blog, this is the case whose mother breastfed the little darling but the judge ordered that the father have visitation one week per month. It was entitled "Scary Things." (while you're at it, take a look at how far Jezebel's muzzle has come!). I was already leery about that case and when I learned where the father lived, I felt sick, inside.

I knew from the map that his house was on the very far outskirts of the neighborhood, as far from the nasty little convenience store I just described as you can get. I'd never been in that small area and was pleasantly surprised that the houses were actually fairly well maintained and there wasn't garbage in the yards and street. I turned onto his block and was astonished to see one of his neighbors had an American flag waving proudly from a pole in the front yard. I knocked on the door and he let me in. The place was neat, curtains were on the windows, there were pictures of the baby framed all along the wall and she was cooing and playing on a blanket on the floor. She had on an "I Love My Daddy" bib (he sheepishly admitted that he gave it to her). Oh, what a cutie she was! She was healthy, solid, clean, smelled wonderful, playful, engaged, made eye contact and constantly flirted with her daddy. He was utterly enchanted, you could tell. He'd fixed up her own room with her own crib, and even bought an extra small bed for himself so he could sleep in there with her if she wanted him (this was in addition to his regular bed - pretty astonishing when you consider how many kids don't have beds at all!). He told me how he'd taken her to the toy store and selected the stuffed animals that SHE reached for. He'd taken her down to Wal Mart to have portraits made and couldn't wait to see how they turned out. When she got on the floor to crawl, you'd think she was running in the Olympics. I honestly wondered if he was going to hurt himself grinning so broadly. He delightedly showed me how she likes to kick and grip and so on and so forth. Such a proud, proud Papa. There was no mistaking that this little baby trusted him and they were well bonded. I can't tell you how relieved I was. I was even more relieved when he mentioned that he felt sorry for the mother because she must really be worried and miss the baby. He has called her, every day, to reassure her. So while this is a tough case, I felt much better about it than I had, initially.

Let me just say, while I'm thinking about it, that I typically really, really like working with African immigrants. Just from a practical standpoint, their English is usually marvelous, so communication is not an issue. Additionally, because they aren't in a position to easily immigrate illegally, most of them are educated and hard working which is why they have permission to be here. What I have noticed, more importantly, is that as a group, they seem to have a great deal of common sense, personal dignity, an attitude of civility and tolerance, an appreciation for how important it is for the child to have a relationship with both parents, and they genuinely appreciate their babies. Obviously, there are exceptions, but as a group, they have been a pleasure to work with.

Quite a few of the African Immigrants practice the Muslim faith and I frequently detect an "attitude" (perhaps too strong a word) from the men about women. That being said, I have NEVER had an African immigrant treat me disrespectfully or in an uncivil manner. I appreciate that.

How do you like this fabric?


It is Simpatico by Kaufman. I was just in the mood for something bold and dramatic, different than my RWB and the mellow blue and brown Surf and Sand Quilt. Not sure what I will do with it, but it called my name.

Off to do some "real" work.

Set Back for Ms. Jezebel

Last night at dinnertime, shortly following a spirited chase of the fat, stupid squirrel-with-a-death-wish, we called Jezebel to dinner. When she didn't appear, I glanced over to see her tentatively trying to walk but apparently not able to get her legs to work. As you can imagine, my heart froze.

She gingerly made her way to the kitchen and when husband reached down to pat her shoulder, she screamed.

We couldn't tell what leg she was favoring and for a time, I wondered if she'd had a stroke. Perhaps she had a pinched nerve.

Perhaps the cancer had matastasized to her bones.

Although she looked confused and could barely walk, she gobbled down her dinner like it was her last meal. For all I knew, it was. Only goes to show how concerned I am for her. I keep working to avoid the thought that the melanoma is probably a death sentence.

She was in pain the rest of the evening. We broke down and gave her an aspirin and that seemed to ease her. I kept telling myself that she probably pulled something but I couldn't help but worry. She couldn't make it up or down the stairs without crying out. I insisted that I would carry her up the stairs and Husband insisted that there was no way I could lift that dog. I insisted I could lift a Volkswagen if I needed to. He ended up carrying her with me yapping at his heels that I could do it.

She cried out when she got on our bed.

I lay awake off and on last night worrying that it was the cancer. I also worried that she had torn her ACL. We still couldn't tell exactly where she was hurting. Her feet didn't seem to hurt.

This morning, she was in fine spirits and was moving better. She cried out when we moved her right hind leg and she appeared to be favoring it and not putting weight on it. Her hips appeared out of alignment. I've been helping her up and down the stairs, all day, and she immediately learned to call for taxi service whenever stairs are involved. I think she kind of likes husband carrying her or me assisting her.

She has been eating like a horse.

At one point, she was outside and barked to be carried up the deck stairs. I headed out, Husband headed out. We had the same ridiculous discussion that I could NOT lift her and while he was impuning my superhuman-furmom strength, Jezebel glided up the stairs on her own.

We deliberately did not give her an aspirin because she did not seem to he hurting unless she was moving, and pain has its function. We decided that would encourage her to rest. Husband suggested that she ought to be going up and down the stairs to work out whatever was bothering her and I found myself getting a little testy because "obviously" the poor thing needed to be coddled. We've been keeping an eye on her and making sure that we don't leave her alone on a given floor of the house because she'll try to come find us.

As the day has gone on, she began limping on the back leg more noticeably, but it no longer seemed out of line with the rest of her. If she does not feel considerably better by tomorrow, we'll take her in. At this point, we are hoping that she just strained something.




At least her muzzle continues to fill in.


I worked on the surf and sand quilt top, today. Let me just say it. That thing is a son of a bitch. A SON OF A BITCH!! Okay, I have just lost 3/4ths of my readers and my children are embarrassed for me.

Grr. I love paper piecing blocks but they are no fun to stitch together for a top. In addition, I set them on point and kept losing my place on where the large center stars needed to be. Several times I laboriously lined them up, got the seams straight, stitched them down, ironed them out, and realized they were on upside down. I'd rip them out and do it, again. What is wrong with me? I think I am just distracted and worried about Jezebel.


That being said, I am quite pleased with how it is coming along.




I am going to put a thin strip around the quilt top but haven't decided if I will go with a brown or a dark blue. I kind of wish I had more of the striped fabric because that could look sort of cool. I have several pieces of fabric from this line that I haven't used yet that I plan to use in the outer border.



NEWFLASH!!! We let Jezebel out to "go" in the back yard and she hobbled out like a cripple. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash and it was Jezebel, racing to catch that stupid, arrogant squirrel-with-a-death-wish that has been vexing her. She left Evelyn in the dust (not that Evelyn really has any concept of what it is like to be a predator - that girl can't catch a potato chip). Jezebel darn near caught that rodent.

Better get out the aspirin. She's going to pay for that.

Surf & Sand Challenge - Block 1 - CHINA

Here is a block I made for the Surf and Sand Challenge from the HGTV Message Board. It is from Carol Doak's Mariner's Compass Stars book. We are using Marcus Brothers Surf and Sand fabric for the challenge. You have to use at least two fabrics from that collection per block. The two S & S fabrics in this block are the snowflakes in the background fabric and the blue polka doted fabric on one of the rays. I managed to get a little depth in this one - something I am always trying for but usually miss...

Here it is next to the same pattern in different colors. I like this one better!



Whew!! After several days of working the longarm instead of piecing a block, I really needed some quilting therapy!

2008 Surf and Sand Quilt Done

I FINALLY finished putting the binding on my blue surf and sand quilt (note of explanation, that link takes you to ALL the posts I wrote about this quilt, last year. There are lots of pictures of Jezebel during her radiation treatment - you can skip over all that if you don't want to spend a lot of time looking through weeks of postings!).

Back to the present - this is the quilt where I had the bright idea to glue down the binding (not glue stick - glue straight out of the Elmer's glue bottle) instead of pins. Then I pressed it down and made a nice, cement to shove the needle through. I don't like doing binding on a good day. I needed a jackhammer to get through this. Which is why it has sat for months in my den. Mocking me.



Can't say as I am particularly thrilled with how it turned out. I quilted it, too much, and it is stiff.



Plus, my experiment with modified trapunto was less than impressive. Well, it is impressive but not in a good way.

I DO love the colors/fabric and I thoroughly enjoyed doing it. So that counts for a lot. Here are a few of the individual blocks:





They are all Carol Doak patterns.

I kind of wish this were smaller because it would do better as a wall hanging than a snuggly quilt. But it is still drying and I might like it better once it does.



I found a place where the fabric came loose but fortunately, it is in a spot that is easy to fix.

I have court in two jurisdictions, today. Looking at my calendar, that is the last time I am scheduled to rush from one courthouse in County A to a second courthouse in County B. Won't miss that!