Denim Chenille Quilts

I’m making denim chenille quilts out of my scraps for Christmas gifts to ship. This way, I can use my scraps and learn to ship these. 

This is the rainbow quilt I got out of all my colored scraps. It turned out actually way cuter than I thought. My cousin/best friend in the Chicago area is getting this for Christmas. 

The heart appliqué is an idea I got somewhere. The heart needs to be smaller though. That’s ok, the point is to learn from mistakes. Once the chenille fuzzes up, you won’t be able to tell it’s a heart. 

And just in case you’re confused on how I make it fuzzy on the back-

I clip all the seams like this. Then when I wash it with a lot of fabric softener, the seams are fuzzy, hence the term “chenille”. 

The blue and gray one is going to my coworker. She was hinting like crazy for one. Then she just flat out asked. I explained that I will have to ship it, not just hand it over at work and she said ok. She wants it in the spare room where her grandkids go when they come over. 

There is still enough for another quilt which will be alternated between denim blue and purple. That one will go to my cousin in Connecticut. I don’t have anyone outside the USA to give one to. It would be nice to practice shipping internationally. 

 I’m also considering doing this for free for memorial quilts. That is, if someone loses a loved one and they want one of these out of their loved one’s old clothing. I would do that.  I trust myself enough now that I don’t believe I would ruin someone’s loved one’s clothing. I mean, of course it would have to be cut up, but I have enough “denim chenille quilt experience” now that I trust myself to do a good job on it with someone else’s lost loved one’s old stuff. 

Tidbits for December

 Kevin and I have the day off, and this is actually the last day off we have until Christmas. So I’m about to be busy, tired, and rich. 

Anna has her phone off while she studies for finals. This is the last week of school for her. She has done great her first semester. 

We went out for a nice Mexican dinner in Austin, and I had a watermelon margarita. 

An ongoing issue with me. 

I can’t stop listening to This song. I heard it on TikTok, and it’s catchy. 

I’ve been doing the Pilate bands to work my upper arms and upper chest. However, the slightest, easiest workouts will kill my arms for the next two days. I’m never in that much pain after leg or core exercises. Probably because I do them more often. In the last two years or so of weight loss journey, I’ve never done anything with arms. I know the answer is to build up slowly, but DAMN am I sore the next day. 

Our Early Thanksgiving

I deleted my Facebook account. I also deleted the app off of my phone. The instance on Sunday with the person from my past who begged for money was all I needed to just close the door for good. Most of my friends on there were my coworkers from the children’s museum, where I have not worked for over a decade. I don’t even think most people I want to be in contact with go on anymore. It’s all dumb groups. It’s totally unnecessary. 

My daughter came home from college the day before yesterday, and we had Thanksgiving dinner today, a day early. Kevin and I both had to work this morning, but Anna sleeps so late on her days off that I knew we’d be done with work just as she was waking up. Before we left, I looked up instructions on how to cook turkey breast in the crockpot. Basically, you butter all the sides of the inside of the pot. Then you butter the turkey. Then sprinkle your spices and chunk it in. I put it on low and left for work. When we got home 6 hours later, it was perfect. 

I forgot to take an after picture though! 

Then made some instant rice and side veggies and it was a meal. Kevin is a vegetarian so he didn’t eat any turkey, but Mitchell and Alex did. 

We then put up the Christmas tree. Here is Mitchell checking it out. 

 

How Would You Feel?

Picture this: Someone from your past treated you like dirt. They mocked you, called you names, constantly told you that you were no good.  They physically assaulted you, told you no one will ever love you. You eventually proved them wrong about yourself. You became successful by going against their advice, realizing along the way that it was bad advice intended to make you fail. 

Then one day, you got a really big paycheck. All but $200 of it was obligation free. In fact, there may have been about a $200 bonus on there that you didn’t expect. So, it’s a nice payday. You go to Walmart, the salon, order Christmas gifts. 

Then, the next day, you log onto Facebook and there’s a rant from said person. She’s begging for $300 to fix her car, and scolding everyone for not helping her out. She even insinuates that those of us who have it to spare would be nothing without her. Do you experience Schadenfreude?  Do you send the $300? Or do you just do something in the middle, gloat and let it go?  

Because that was the situation for me this weekend!  And for clarification, I am NOT talking about my mother!  My mother has 6 figures and never goes on Facebook. 

This person honestly probably shouldn’t even be driving. 

TikTok’s making me lose my mind

 First of all, this lady trying to advocate for or against something at a school board meeting. I laughed so hard I almost peed in my pants. Had to share that one with a few friends. The comments are gold. “This is my coworker who makes $140K a year” lol yuppp.  

Secondly, the dance trend where a person spends about 40-50 seconds dancing to silence and then letting the TikTok algorithm pick the song. Somehow, this guy got a Christmas song, These two appear to be doing completely different genres at first, but the algorithm still nails it. And This lady just got done so dirty lololol. 

I need the laughs though. I have a serious case of burnout. 

A Few Things

 I really want to someday write my book, The Child Advocate. The Elyse Meyers drama, briefly and accurately described here is turning me off to the idea. Omg poor Elyse Meyers. I “somewhat” knew the “rule” that authors shouldn’t interact with reader reviews. I think that’s why I anticipate controversy before I write my shit. I think of an area of the story that might stir, and I anticipate what the consensus will be and then try to incorporate my acknowledgement of the consensus in my writing. Is that an unspoken no-no, too?  Jesus. 

Besides The Child Advocate, I do have a few more book ideas. In one of them, I base it on my first boyfriend and I running away and never looking back when we were 18, because 18 year olds can do that. We just didn’t know we could at the time. I’ve mentioned it before that we wanted 7 kids. I think I would still incorporate seven kids into the story. In the story, I’d have a boy first, then a girl, then boy/girl twins, then adoption of a sibling group of three. And he wouldn’t die at 46, of course. The possibilities are endless, and so would be the potential conflicts. 

My next book idea stems from the fascination I have with missing people being found alive. This one might not be as realistic. In real life, I always daydreamed about publishing articles and posts that compel missing people to save themselves. It’s complicated. Realistically, once a missing person has been missing for some time, no one really is going to save them except for themselves. By then, of course, they will have been severely abused, brainwashed, traumatized, and have assumed false identities. My main character would be a freelance journalist who publishes pieces in order to convince someone in that situation to remember who they are and come forward. The main character of this hypothetical third book would be commissioned by the FBI to write publications in locations where they have reason to believe some missing people are living. This third book idea might be a little more unrealistic, as I have no idea what it’s like to be a freelance journalist or an FBI agent. My cousin Kathy was an FBI agent. Too bad she’s passed away. She could have been my consultant. Back in 2013, when 3 women were found together in Cleveland, Kathy was very tight lipped about it, only having said, “There are more.”  (Meaning, there must be so many more missing people written off as dead who aren’t.) 

More of my writing career ideas have to do with positive parenting, but I’m even afraid of the backlash from that. Positive parenting is the thing that would have the most effect on humanity several generations and centuries after I’m gone, but it’s not without its critics. 

I tried to get into a television show called The Tudors, about Henry VIII and his string of wives. However- the actor that plays Henry is soooo hot. Wasn’t the real Henry fat and ugly?  He’s always portrayed as such. The actor that plays him is VERY good looking, and I had to turn it off saying to myself, “I can’t have the hots for Henry VIII.”  

Lazy Cashier

 At the store we did inventory at yesterday, I helped Kevin scan some of the items behind the register, so I was able to hear some interactions between the cashier and customers. This was also a truck stop, so most of them were truckers. This place had another register by the main entrance, but this particular register was by the diesel pumps. One trucker asked if they had Altoid mints. She immediately said, “No.” I thought that was weird. All those places have Altoid mints. Then another trucker asked for cool ranch Doritos. She immediately said, “No.”  In my mind, I’m like WHAT.  I looked up from what I was doing and conspicuously strained my head to look over at the frito lay area. I didn’t see any right away, but once I was done helping Kevin, I looked for both Altoid and cool ranch Doritos, and they were both easily findable. 

When I was in my teens and worked at a store, it was an absolute ABOMINATION to tell a customer “no” or “I don’t know”. The rule is, you find out. You look, you ask. This bitch wasn’t even trying. 

A couple hours later, I was counting on the aisles near the cooler doors and a man asked me if the store had the 99 cent cans of Arizona tea in 12 packs. They didn’t have it at that store- I would have noticed it if they did. My daughter loves Arizona tea, so if the 99 cent cans came in 12 packs for a total of even less than 99 cents, I would have always noticed. I gave a much more detailed answer and expended much more emotional labor into my response to this man than the cashier. I had also mentioned that I didn’t actually work for the store, so I overheard him asking that woman at the diesel register. Then I heard him say, “Oh No Sè? No Comprende?”  I rolled my eyes. That lady knew how to speak English, she just didn’t want to be bothered answering questions. That was my irritation of the day. She was not a young person, either, she had gray strands of hair and was around the same age as me. I would expect such behavior from a teenager, even though I was expected to move mountains for people when I was a teen myself.