An ounce of prevention . . .

is worth a pound of cure?  Or is the cure sometimes a horrible poison that could just about kill you?  Anyway, I think I’m a bit done with being a guinea pig.  As most of you who read my blog know, I have some eating issues.  Largely springing from the fact that I had weight loss surgery almost exactly five years ago.  I now generate way too much insulin . . . how I wish I could tap some of that off and give it to my diabetic friends, but I can’t.  Well, I’ve been seeing an endocrinologist at the research hospital in Portland who has been trying to help me to eat a little more normally, but it involves some medications that weren’t making me feel all that great, but I decided I’d hang in there because he said it would really help.  Over the past few months, I’ve noticed that I’ve been unusually tired.  Then I noticed that I felt sad a lot, but I sometimes have depression and we’ve been having a cool and crummy summer, so I just chalked it up to that.  Then my sister left town for two weeks to visit my aunts back east, all the company I’d had in late June/early July left, and I was incredibly lonely.  Of course, it’s the time of year when everyone has so much to do, but I became loathe to leave the house and just terribly miserable.  When my sister got back from the east coast, she asked what the heck was the matter with me, I was so dreary.  I finally started exploring on the internet for the side effects of some of these medications I’ve been taking and found the one that I’ve been supposed to be ‘ramping up’ over the past two months can cause severe depression.  Ya think?  Anyway, I decided to wean off it.  I probably weaned a little faster than I should have.  I’ve had some crazy wild dreams, crazy wild headaches, but I’m finally beginning to feel a bit more like myself.  I’ve decided that I’m going for the natural thing now.  I know this old bod has issues, but I’ll straighten it out on my own.  I’m not dealing with these powerful medications that can cause more trouble than the problem they were supposed to help with in the first place.  I’m a big girl, I can take care of it.

On Saturday, I had a booth at the Coburg Quilt Show.  Coburg is a quaint little historic town to the north of Eugene, and their outdoor quilt show was in its 8th year.  I had hoped to have more things available to sell, but with my funk, I didn’t really get much done.  I did, however, manage to pull myself together enough to make a bit of a display for my business and I sold some notions and handed out business cards and class programs for MQX West (where I will teach).  It was a great day.  So many people came up and asked me about my quilts, told me they thought they were the most beautiful in the whole show (I didn’t get to see the quilts in the show so I don’t know), and a lot of people asked about quilts they had that they’d like to have me quilt.  I hope I hear the phone ringing some more soon.  I got myself a fancy  little banner made the day before the show and I think it came out nicely.


So, I’m back in the studio, rocking out to LOUD music, dancing as I quilt, and when I burst into tears now, it’s because I’m enjoying what I’m doing and not because some stupid medication is making me feel like the world is crashing around me.  What a relief.  Word to the wise – be really careful about the things the doc gives you.  Sometimes, they’re really not good for you!


The world has indeed gone mad.  Well, at least the good ol’ US of A has.  A deranged gunman has gone on a rampage in a movie theatre and killed innocent people and wounded a whole bunch more.  This is, indeed, a horrible tragedy, and my heart goes out to the family and friends of all those involved.  However, I sit here this evening, watching the evening news, and I can’t help but wonder what is wrong with our newscasters?  Yes, this is a newsworthy incident.  But, not only did the national news feature this item for nearly their entire half-hour, but they mentioned they will be devoting their Friday night news show to it.  The local news (both early and late) featured it as a large part of their newscast.  Somewhere, in a darkened little living room, I can imagine some sick, weird, twisted individual taking note of how much time these incidents get on the news, and thinking about how much news time they would generate if they did the same thing.  Why do we have to make such a big issue out of these things?  It’s like the weather prognosticators telling people to stay off the beaches during hurricanes because of the wind and the storm surge, as they stand there, with the rain blowing sideways and the waves nearly knocking them off their feet.  There is no logic behind any of this.

Again, I mean no disrespect to anyone who lost a friend or relative in this tragedy, but I don’t think the incessant news coverage will bring anyone back.  What it will do is feed some sicko’s need for attention.  Until they find out why this guy did what he did, I don’t think we need to know more.

Linda M. Stupid

Did you ever have one of those days where you’re having a pity party for one?  And, on top of it all, you know that it’s totally stupid? I just woke up feeling sort of blue this morning.  Not really any particular reason, except that I’m possibly lonely.  Days have been so full of people — family, friends and colleagues lately — and now it’s just me, the dog, and the kitties.  I just feel kind of blah.  So, what do I decide to do?  Something incredibly stupid.  I made some tart cherry and dark chocolate chip scones.  Most of you are thinking this sounds totally reasonable.  Well, I have severe reactive hypoglycemia and I’m not supposed to eat refined carbohydrates.  I know this.  I know they make me severely sick.  But, unlike Pavlov’s dogs, I’m just not that smart.  I’m having a pity party, remember?  So I made the scones.  OMG – they are so good.  So good, in fact, I ate two of them.  Well, they are small.  But, as I could have told you, I got very, very sick.  I am physically unable to vomit.  Sometimes this is not a good thing.  It causes prolonged suffering.  Once I got done with the sweating, the shaking, and the writhing in pain (during which I was, of course, chastising myself repeatedly for eating the stupid things), I got my blood sugar back up to a reasonably normal range, and then took a three hour nap.  I then got up, walked into the kitchen and dumped the rest of the scones into the trash.  I must admit, it’s been since way before Thanksgiving (I think) since I last ate something so awful.  I know better, but something in the back of my brain still tells me that is comfort food.  My stomach is still jumping up and down, claiming victory in the battle, telling my brain that it warned it way ahead of time — it knew there would be big trouble.  Ah well.  Some day, the brain will listen.  Now to get the stomach to cool it with the victory celebration!

Wow – just where in the heck have I been?

When you’re getting close to retirement, you’ll hear people who have already retired tell you that once you do retire, you’ll wonder how you ever found the time to go to work.  Oh sure, you’ll think.  How in the heck is that possible.  I spend eight hours a day chained to this desk, another hour chained to the general vicinity while I eat my lunch, and you don’t think I’m going to feel like I have more time on my hands?  Well, trust me.  You won’t.  There’s too much to do once you’re set free.  Places to go, people to see, places to see, trouble to get into . .  I didn’t just say that, did I?  Anyway, I’ve been running around, playing, sewing, quilting, walking, walking, walking, picking berries, shopping, driving, driving, driving, sight seeing, visiting with family, visiting with friends, visiting with fellow quilters.  Life is grand.  Spring was dreary and kind of depressing here, but the sun finally decided to come out on the fourth of July.  The weather has been pretty nice ever since.  Folks tell me it’s hot, but since I lost weight a few years ago, I don’t seem to notice the heat much.  I’m usually cold, so when I went to the pet store to buy Ozzie a bone for his third birthday last Wednesday, the clerk asked me how I was, and I said — fine, how are you?  She said, well, I’m fine because I’m working in this air-conditioned store.  And I said, but it’s not hot out.  She said, it’s 91°.  Hmmm– I thought it was only about 75.  I guess I should have known because all my animals were lying on the floor with their tummies up in the air looking like the were dying or something.  I’ll have to keep a better check on the thermometer.  Ozzie has learned to swim.  He jumps into the Walterville Canal Pond with his cousin Kallie chasing sticks.  He looks like a paramecium — sort of a little shoe-shaped object with little curly things coming off the sides as he swims.  Also kind of like a speed boat, as I don’t think he really likes being in the water, so he swims as desperately fast as he can and lifts most of his body out of the water in an attempt to keep as much of himself out of the water as possible.  It’s pretty cute.  When he gets out, he looks so proud of himself.  Here are a few photos of recent quilts and adventures, in no particular order.

My two sisters and me, July 5, 2012 (Ginny, Barb, and me)

Miniature pineapple quilt for my friend Adonna – done with stamps on muslin.

A small compass quilt done for a local show for a guild member

Detail of the arc

Charity quilt for local NICU – fabric has Kermit the frog in it, quilting pattern is called Ribbit, as it has frogs in it

Second Ribbit NICU quilt

Agate Beach on the way to a longarm meeting in Seaside this weekend.  Off in the distance, above the feet of the fellow in the beach chair, you can see the dock washed up by the Japanese Tsunami debris.

A kite (very normal site on the Oregon coast) someone was flying at the beach


Well, I’ll try to be back a bit more often.  Lots of quilts in to do, a show coming up to advertise my business, upcoming classes, etc., and lots and lots to do.  It’s a wonderful life.