Tall Tales from Kansas

her work draws me like a powerful magnet

I have been arranging, re-arranging, and re-re-arranging these squares endlessly. But at some point THIS configuration was settled on as the most visually pleasing and they have been sewn together. 

A border of sorts was added.

Quilting was done. 

I love how cool the quilting looks on the fabric that no one will ever see because it will be tucked away on the inside of the pillow. I will know it is there. 

Fabric for the back of the pillow was selected. It has been living in my stash for many moons, from a time ages ago when I took a class from Keeley Barham. I used a small piece for a mail art bag and the rest has been patiently waiting for me. Just for this purpose apparently. Binding was made from other scraps. 

More quilting was done because I need to practice free motion quilting, and the border was a good place to experiment. 

It is now done! Except I want another one just this size to go downstairs on the couch also for my back. Happily, I find pillows to be the perfect project for playing around with different patterns, colors, and shapes. 

While we are on the subject of quilting, this book from Uppercase came out a few years ago, but I just ordered mine in the last month. It is FULL of wonderful artists and their work. I had not previously heard of Diane Melms whose work draws me in like a powerful magnet. 

Good stuff here. 

You may be able to get this book in other places, I ordered mine here.

I heard a rumor there were going to be blueberries

The following 2 photos illustrate the ways you can "do" rain at the farmers market. I am not endorsing one method over the other. But I wore a a hat, a rain coat, tennis shoes, shorts and I carried an umbrella. Apparently, I am a hybrid of sorts. The shot I did not get, was of the woman walking around in a t-shirt, cropped pants, a colorful head scarf, face getting wet, smiling. I want to be her. 

I had to go to the market, rain or no rain, because I heard a rumor there were going to be blueberries. Which I did locate, after I had all but given up. 

This is not a great photo, but when juggling the basket, umbrella, and camera - compromises had to be made. I got the shot and got out of the way, so those in line behind me could score their little green basket too.  

There was also a piece of Bourbon Butter Pecan cake in my basket. In a bag. It also had to be carried gingerly alongside the rest of the purchases, being mindful not to smash it before I could get it home and take a picture of my slice to send to brother. 

Karen and John Pendleton had a "frame" set up for those who wanted their picture taken with flowers for American Flowers week. They were nice enough to stop their business transactions for a second and pose for me.

To balance out the cake I got a bag of tween rainbow chard this week. I generally cook my chard, but am going to try and make a salad out of it this week. I will let you know how it turns out. A reliable source told me it can be done. 

I almost came home with a 4th of July bouquet, until I plopped my basket down by the big buckets of peonies, and caught that irresistible fragrance.

These nine peonies are the ones I selected. A perfect number for this vase. I never went to flower arranging school so I like to make up things about what makes a good looking bouquet as I go.

Fingers crossed that I can stay awake until 9:45 pm tonight, when, if we are lucky, from the second floor guest bedroom windows, we may get a glimpse of the local firework extravaganza, if the trees across the way are not too tall. I have Angie's rocking chair and foot stool set up in front of the window for optimal viewing comfort. Since I have made all these plans (thus tempting fate), I will either fall asleep by 9 or they will not be viewable from the set up location. 

to understand them as a part of life that come and go

After almost an entire month of not being able to walk without discomfort (which totally took the mental health benefits out of it), I have been back at it for the past 3 days. Church of the glassy river, Baker Wetlands, pond down the street... how I missed you. 

Oh the mysterious ways of the body and the reaction of the mind. What is this? When will it go away? What should I do to make it better? Is this making it worse? You know the drill.  Can we talk about aches and pains for a minute? Not to roll around in them so everyone will feel bad for us, but rather to understand them as a part of life that come and go. Often with no rhyme or reason... not one that we can pinpoint anyway.  A cloud that has blown in that will surely blow away is a great metaphor from Tara Brach (or maybe Pema Chödrön) for the suffering in life.

This has been a great wake up call for me on the importance of STRETCHING and making time for it before and after walking. The next time I am plagued with some unpleasant sensations in the body my plan is this: acknowledge, accept, and remember it's a cloud. Then I will speed dial my massage and physical therapists, who by the way are my "team" as much as my primary care doctor and all the "specialists" out there. Fabulous women these two. 

to coax all I can from my little spot of the world

You will have to go along with me on my current obsession with this year's caladiums. 

They might be the best one's I have ever had. The funny thing is they looked so straggly when I planted them. Then we had a super wet/coolish period, but here we are six weeks later, and they are simply stellar. They are in pots in my front garden where I can observe them from my favorite morning sitting spot. I watch the sun as it comes up on my right and filters through the leaves of the Japanese maple, creating the most amazing shadows.

For each garden failure, there are these victories that step in to remind me why I love getting sweaty & dirty and continue to coax all I can from my little spot of the world. 

We did. It was good. We were glad.

When Johnny and Annette were visiting Tall Tales Headquarters recently, we had Margaritas and Bloody Mary's. Not at the same time. 

The luxury of having your own personal bartender, who cleans up after himself, and has a wicked sense of humor, can not be overstated.

The fact that he is a dear friend and married to one of my dearest friends ... ok, enough said. 

In other news, these zinnias all re-seeded themselves from last year. Best crop of volunteers ever. I took care to break up the dried flower heads last year and throw them around at the end of the season. Seems like it paid off. It also helps that these zinnias are in my back garden where it is sunny and sort of protected from the harsh winds here in Kansas. 

I am very much enjoying listening to The Trojan Horse Affair podcast. I am not sure where it is going, but it's so interesting and a commentary of sorts on these times we are living in? If you like a podcast, give it a whirl. Excellent to knit along to. 

In addition to cleaning the bathrooms before our guests arrived, the sewing area got neatened up.  



This may or may not turn into a smallish pillow for the chair at my desk at home. Old jeans + scraps = real good fun. 

While we are on the subject of sewing, I reinforced a buttonhole on these yard-mowing shorts for Chris recently.

I told Chris they come with a money back guarantee. I am in love with the whole mending movement - in theory anyway. I need more practice which will of course make things closer to perfect

There was a meeting of the Huff Lunch Club recently. Items discussed included the universal appeal and good looks of a pair of Birkenstocks at any age, the importance of incorporating creative endeavors into a life, and carrot cake. 

That's all I have to report today. Did I mention that we ate carrot cake in addition to discussing it? We did. It was good. We were glad. 

people it would be a relief to be with

Today I finished reading Leonard and Hungry Paul by Rónón Hession.  One of you recommended it a few years back, and now seemed like just the right time to settle in with it.  

This book is about two friends, Leonard and Hungry Paul.  We never learn the story behind the name Hungry Paul by the way, it's just his name, and no one thinks it's unusual in the context of the book. These are 2 very ordinary fellows, living under the radar, but each with a special talent of sorts that has not really been celebrated. Their gifts are quiet, like they are. They seem to me to be people it would be a relief to be with. If you are looking for a book about friends, living regular lives, without too much nonsense going on, THIS is a story for you. Perfect bedtime reading. I enjoyed it immensely. 

start holding your doughnuts using her method

This weekend I had the best time taking Johnny and Annette to "my" farmers market. It's hard to know what others will think of something so dear to me, so familiar, so part of my life. It's like anything else you share with someone, hard to know if your taste's will coincide. But I think they liked it. 

They are in the area to visit family in Kansas and Oklahoma. It has been a true delight to have them here. Meanwhile, at the market, things are getting colorful!







The doughnuts remain ever popular among all the visitors. This connoisseur today told me they were "good" AND when asked what her's tasted like said "doughnut".

She did not say "duh" afterwards. But I could hear it in her voice. I don't know what you are doing today, but whatever it is I hope it makes you as happy as she looks in this photo. I also hope you start holding your doughnuts using her method. 

The market at 8:30 am is busier than my usual 7:30am time, and the music is lively. It could be that I should check out the market at different times in the morning. Except that I missed my usual bag of mixed lettuces... though I can not complain since there was arugula to be had.

I also got there in time to get the first piece of the last one of this week's cakes from Chonky treats and sweets.  Blueberry/lemon, one of the world's best flavor combinations. 

kind of like playing with your toys

Recently, a wild idea to soak all the treasures that are laid out on a tray in the living room popped into my brain. A bit of a wash to rehydrate was my thought.

While proceeding to place them in a bowl in the sink, it was fun to handle each piece, recalling the place where it was spotted, who I was with, reliving it all (to the best of my recollection).

I think reconnecting with the water was good. I know dusting the tray was needed.

This was good fun. Re-arranging a collection greatly enhances the enjoyment of having it. Kind of like playing with your toys, right?

he got a little lonely up there

This is a photo of Dad taken back in the mid 1990’s. He was on the way back home after spending 2 months up on Big Sheep mountain in Montana (or Wyoming?). He had seen an ad in “Working Sheepdog News” for a shepherd and he thought it sounded interesting. There was a discussion with Angie, a bag was packed, Lash and Katy jumped in the truck, and off they went.

It was pretty much the sheep, the dogs, and his horse up there and we could tell he was glad to be back among his people, telling stories, socializing.  After he retired from the Air Force, dad followed his dreams wherever they took him, whenever he could. 

Happy Fathers Day dad, thanks for putting that sense of adventure in all of us.

P.S. Working Sheepdog News is a real publication, at least it used to be. That's where he also got wind of the need for border collies and someone to train them in Brazil. But that's another story for another time. 

us Moss kids love our out of door spaces

Before leaving for the Farmers Market today, I ventured outside to check on things. See what needed my attention... you know the drill. Fan went on, candle was lit, pillow fluffed, coffee sipped. Then I started thinking about how interesting it is that ALL us Moss kids love our outdoor spaces, just like Angie did. 

It's endlessly fascinating to watch the light and how it changes from one minute to the next. Did she watch the light? 





Listening to the birds and the fountain, a tiny cutting was potted, a mud dauber nest was vigorously dislodged using the handle of my broom, geraniums were deadheaded. 







Thoughts drifted in and out. Plants were checked on.







Before you know it all desire to leave my space had vanished, and thus the Farmers Market was missed.   

The End.