is there any more pie?

My kind of morning, up at six and cooking by seven (must ease into the day with a couple of mugs of coffee).  Pot roast for Son #1 and potato-sausage soup (the Olive Garden recipe) for Son #2.

Story Man headed off to the BBQ pit at 3:45 this morning.  We’re hauling the pot roast north for a family dinner later on this afternoon and I will spend a few days with the Funny Grandson.  I am armed with the ingredients for blueberry pancakes, a new card game and the Superman movie.

Some of you asked to see the Stolen Mother’s Day card.  Here it is.

Oops.  I can’t figure out how to turn this.   But don’t you love the patriotic thigh-cut underwear?

I don’t own anything like that.

But I do have five crock pots.

Up at 3:15, on the road at 3:45 with Banjo Man behind the wheel and my travel mug filled with coffee.

Suitcase, carry-on, purse, Kindle, phone, glasses….. yep, got it all.

Arrived at the airport at 4:15 for a 5:45 AM flight only to realize the line to check in at Southwest stretched the entire width of the airport.  I hadn’t seen lines like that since the week before Christmas.

Gulp.

It took a while.  Thank goodness the security lines were moving quickly, though after I stepped out of the scanning booth a female agent took my hands and examined the insides of my wrists.  I’m still wondering why.

Made it to the gate with five minutes to spare!

Quick flight to Baltimore, with only an hour between flights.  There were some new stores:

And at the America shop, a Bernie Sanders t-shirt, among other pro-Democrat shirts.  Maryland is obviously a “blue state”.

Then it was time to board the plane for Austin.  Not a lot of people were heading to Texas at 8 AM, so I had a whole row to myself.  The plane was so cold it brought back memories of attending Sarge’s high school football games…in December.  Bring on some Texas heat!!!!

The cab ride to the condo was a bit of an adventure.  The driver didn’t know much English, especially not “left” and “right”.  But I made it.

I am actually afraid of taxis.  I don’t like placing my life in the hands of a stranger.  Airplanes are easy–I fall asleep during take off–but getting into a cab at the end of the flight is when I have to remind myself to be brave and pretend to be brave.

I have a couple of very scary taxi stories.  Of the “near death experience” kind.  New Orleans.  Washington, D.C., Rome.  Let me say right now, I WILL NEVER TAKE ANOTHER CAB TO OR FROM THE NEW ORLEANS AIRPORT.

Because I want to live.  And who doesn’t?

My first taxi driver from the Austin airport, about ten years ago, was a Willie Nelson lookalike, complete with the long braid.  And three inch fingernails!!!!!

I was mesmerized and forgot to be scared.

Banjo Man and I called for a cab to take us to our favorite pub last March and the guy showed up in a karaoke van.  Mirror balls, speakers, monitors, ancient shag carpet, black interior and flashing Christmas lights.  Right before we got to the Saxon Pub the driver turned it all on for us (he has found his karaoke cab niche), so we made quite an entrance pulling up into the small parking area in front of the bar.

I wish he’d been at the airport at 11:00 this morning.  I was so happy to be in Austin I felt like singing!!!

Last weekend Mom and I went to the Narragansett Bay Quilters bi-annual quilt show at a nearby high school.  We met my good buddy Ruth there and proceeded to walk around the gym while oohing and ahhing about the amazing talent on display.

So I thought I’d share some quiltin’ eye candy with you.

I thought this quilt was stunning.  Paper pieced and gorgeous.

Here’s a vintage top quilted and displayed.  This has inspired me to do something with the vintage quilt tops I’ve collected since 1972.

I loved all of the intricate machine quilting on this one.  I could happily do this kind of machine quilting for weeks on end.  Until I went blind.

This one definitely takes a design board.  Simple blocks, but a complicated assembly to make it into a work of art.  We all loved this one.

And now for some applique.  My fingers can’t do this kind of needlework, but Ruth’s can.  She’s really good at it, so this quilt inspired her.

What a variation on a wedding ring pattern!  I’ve always wanted to make one of these.  Maybe next winter…

And here are cross-stitch blocks at the center of log cabin blocks.  These were the smallest cross stitches I’ve ever seen in my life.

Of course no quilt show would be complete without a vendor section.  I resisted buying fabric and a sewing table (saving that purchase for next winter), but I won a door prize at one of the booths!

We went out to lunch, celebrated Mother’s Day early (I’ll be in Austin on the official Sunday) and staggered home.  I have a few quilt projects to finish up before we leave for the lake–mostly making binding–but there will be no more new quilts until November.

Summer = cooking, canning,  music, dock time, parties, reunions, family gatherings and staring at the mountains.  Heaven!

Ouch.  This afternoon I really feel as if I bit down on a bullet.  That cracked molar I’ve been in denial about since  February now has a temporary crown on it.  The dentist and I are hoping that will solve this “cracked tooth pain” without having to attempt a root canal or an extraction.

It might take a week before I am pain free, but if it works?  Hallelujah!!!

Right now it doesn’t feel too good.  As my five year old grandson would declare, “I can’t like this.”

I also bit another bullet today, which was to buy a new computer.  I need more space for music and for pictures.  My music issues have pretty much shut down any progress on my learning to play the dobro or take up the violin again.  The issues with pictures made blogging something that took hours.  It finally dawned on me that I was stuck.  Majorly stuck.

Being stuck is not a good feeling.

I didn’t want to buy a new computer—and learn Windows 10—any more than I wanted to have a root canal (or any dental work at all), but after a trip to Staples after the dentist visit (I explained to the salesman that I sounded funny because of the novacaine and he asked me not to drool on the laptops) and then, once home, after several hours of reading online reviews and checking prices, I made my choice.

Banjo Man thinks I’m ridiculous:  For heaven’s sakes, will you just go buy a new computer?????

He wanted to race out and replace his laptop yesterday, but I talked him off the ledge.  Google Chrome is not playing nice with Windows 7.  It’s an internet issue, not his computer.  At least that’s my opinion.

He has calmed down, I think.  He needs to chat with the Staples technician and see how to fix this.  I tried a few things I read online, but nothing worked.

So my aching tooth and I are now going to Staples to pick up the hunk of technology that will solve all of my problems.  Just like the temporary crown is going to–eventually–fix my tooth.

Yup.  That’s what I’m going to tell myself.

Believe it or not, this is a tablecloth!  My daughter-in-law surprised me with this for Christmas and I have to admit it is my new favorite.

We were shopping together last spring in  Georgetown, Texas, when I spied a red and white  checked vintage tablecloth printed with red roses, in a nice big rectangular size.

I didn’t buy it.  I resisted with every cell in my recently-lunched-on-grain-fed-burgers-body.  I do try so hard to resist buying any more tablecloths, I really do.  It’s a sickness, I admit.  But I love them.

My daughter-in-law told me months later that she had gone back to buy it for me, but it was gone.

So here is my brand new Christmas present.  There is a cowgirl in each crisp, cotton corner.

Boots!

Roses!

Blue and white!

Perfection!!!!

Time to party, don’t y’all think?