Peppers?

What kind of peppers are these, and will they hurt if I eat them? And, what shall I do with them all?

Sew, what's with Appleseed?

I lurk on several 18th century-based Yahoo groups. A couple of weeks ago a woman stopped by one of them and said that she volunteered with the Appleseed Project, mentioned that they teach marksmanship and the history of April 19. 1775, and that she was putting together a farmer's wife outfit for telling her history lesson. Hey! I knew about Appleseed! Sort of. A little. I contacted kyjam off-list and offered to help her out. We e-mailed back and forth about what she needed to do, and when we realized there was no way she was going to get everything done in time for her shoot on September 11th, I decided to box up a bunch of clothing I wasn’t using at the moment and send it to her. Because it’s all about me, you see. I don’t want the 2A/gunnie crowd looking like idiots to us living history types, and I don’t want the living history types coming across as snobby to us 2A/gunnie types. See? It’s all about ME not wanting to look bad. Really. So tonight I took an apron I made (takes off shoes count), um, 15? 16? years ago when I didn't know any better, and fixed the too-wide waistband and too-wide pleats. I took off the 1 ¼” linen band and ties, and repleated it using ½” pleats, bound it in linen tape, and added 3/8” apron strings. Now I just need to put ties on a straw hat and get it all out the door.

Too wide wasitband and ties on the left, new wasitband across the top of the pleats, and new apron strings on the right.

Between kyjam and Rattail Bastard, I think I’m being talked into this whole Appleseed thing.

Quilt update

So that “Quilts of Valor” thing? Yeah. I didn’t go subtle for the first one. It’s red, white and blue. It's cliché.  The more artistic one I had planned? I came up with a different design, and I’m reworking it in my head. It’s going to drive me mad. But, as usual, I digress.


I love the concept of a patchwork quilt – you use scraps of fabric that aren’t useful for anything else by cutting them into pieces and stitching them together into something useful, and usually quite beautiful. The process I learned was to make templates for the shapes you need and trace around them onto the back of your fabric, leaving enough room to then add a quarter inch seam allowance. After marking each piece twice (sewing line and cutting line), you cut each piece out, then carefully line up your stitching lines, and start sewing. I never managed to get the hang of machine piecing – I can’t get the corners to match up the way I want them to.

So, getting back to construction of the quilt top. Making a quilt out of scraps is a great idea. I can even wrap my head around why you would want to go out and buy perfectly good fabric so you can cut it up create a specific pattern of color and line. What I can not do, is cut up a square of fabric simply so I can then cut it into 4 triangles and sew them back together into a square. So I’m not doing it. So there. For someone that tries to reproduce original sewing techniques when possible, this alternately causes me to feel like a rebel and a loser. I find I’m getting over it pretty quickly.

See those blue triangles? There are 160 in this quilt. See the white square? If this were being contructed in a traditional manner, they'd be made out of four triangles sewn together. See the red square? There are only 20 of those. I haven't counted the white triangles. I don't think I want to know.

You can see the yellow lines for cutting and sewing. And the penny is there for scale. I like using a small needle. It makes it easier to make small stitches.

I estimate I'm 5% done so far.

Just don't start calling me Gecko45

Due to the fact that Sweet Daughter was coming down with a cold on Friday night, neither she nor I slept well that night. We were trying to take a nap yesterday - she finally fell asleep, but it took me over an hour to unwind. Just as I was drifing off, my slumber was shattered by the sound of ripping Velcro. The REPEATED sound of ripping Velcro, I might add. I stumbled down the stairs to find Shorter Half assembling some sort of rig for my Springfield XD. I gave him the evil eye and asked what in the world was he doing???

 He'd picked my pistol up from the gunsmith (got the LaserLyte installed), had added the flashlight, and was putting together a rig so I had a holster that would fit it with the light attached. The light is for use in the home, and it's easy on, easy off so I can pop it off to use with my regular carry rig.

I think I'll forgive him.

Redshirt!

Larry Correia is offering to redshirt people in his next Monster Hunter book for good cause. I am SO doing this.

He gives the option of sending along any specific items of description that he might be able to use. (age, size, build, interesting factoids like: you’ve got a lazy eye, penchant for Mohawks, look suspiciously like Ernest Borgnine, etc.)

I need suggestions – so far I’ve come up with the fact that I’m a middle-aged office manager, my first two guns were a flintlock and matchlock, SayUncle thinks I’m 7’ tall, and that Sweet Daughter wanted a “handgun like Mommy’s” for her fourth birthday.

Got anything to add?

Local Politics

When I was in the Midwest this summer with family who don’t necessarily share my political views, the conversation inevitably turned to politics. I just kept my mouth shut as nobody was going to change anyone else’s mind, and there was no way things would have ended well.

At one point a family member said “I hate politics -- let’s change the subject. So, Nancy, how’s Shorter Half doing?”

I said, “Well, ever since he got elected to the School Board he’s been pretty busy. I don’t know if being married to a politician is supposed to better or worse than being married to a lawyer.”

At that point we decided it was time to adjourn and go to dinner.

Chincoteague and Assateague

Sweet Daughter and I had the chance to meet up with some family members last week in Chincoteague. My sisters had rented a house, and we went up for some R&R for a couple of days. The house was right on the edges (several edges, actually) of wetland, and the views were gorgeous. The mosquitoes were the size of small hummingbirds, and you couldn’t open your car door without the little buggers swarming in to greet you. We even brought a bunch home with us – apparently we were the transport for some sort of insect foreign exchange program.

View from the bathroom

View from the deck.

In the morning, we’d get up bright and early and drive over to Assateague to spend the day at the beach. It’s a lovely place, very clean, with lots of “facilities”, changing rooms, and showers. We saw ponies. We saw dolphins. I relaxed. SD got her life jacket strapped on because she has no fear of the water. She’d start out with her favorite sport of jumping over the incoming tide. The lead to many, many instances of one wave sucking the sand out from under her feet as she landed just as an incoming wave would rush in and knock her end over end. This didn’t seem to bother her much, but when she tired of it, she picked up shells, made sandcastles, and has a wonderful time.

Wild ponies on Assateague

Sweet Daughter shows off her glitter Care Bear (temporary) tattoo.

The second night we picked up an ice cream cake from DQ. SD asked “I wonder what it tastes like?” My sister answered “It tastes like Pooh!” And it went downhill from there.

We spent two hours one evening riding the trolley in circles around Chincoteague, much to SD’s delight. We got ice cream, saw the Misty statue, and bought t-shirts. The town has managed to retain its identity, and hasn’t sold out to the tourism trade, which is nice to see.

Misty statue

After 3 ½ days of blissful relaxation, the 200 mile (and 5 hour!!) drive home blew it all to hell. So much for relaxed, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

SD and my sister.