Saturday, June 1, 2019

Why I love the 802

All of Vermont has one area code. I imagine Wyoming is like that, too. Oh, North and South Dakota, Montana, and Rhode Island keep company with Vermont and Wyoming. I never knew. Nor did I care. Now that I live in the 802, we Vermonters refer to our state thusly, I am rather proud of it. "It" being one area code for the whole state. There is a twitter hashtag for it, I believe. I only troll on twitter. Off and on. That shit just depresses me.

I love Vermont. "Way up by Canada," Ingrid declares every time I call her.  She seems to think I am in some foreign country. So much so, that she thought I was too far away to manage her affairs, as if geography has anything to do with paying bills on line.  My paternal grandmother was an eighth or ninth generation Vermonter. My father was born in Vermont. My grandfather, from Western Mass, had the typical Vermont sense of humor. "Have you lived here all your life?" someone once asked him. "Not yet." he dead panned. (Is that even a verb, Benjamin Dreyer?) I identify as a Vermonter. So I believe I belong here.

So what does this have to do with sewing machines? Absolutely nothing. I painted the fence all day, after digging up sod around fourteen pickets. The black flies were merciful and I am almost halfway done. Now I am enjoying a Lake Hopper Hard Cider of Citizen Cider fame and 6.2% ABV. I haven't eaten in six hours. So I'm a bit tipsy and talkative.

This morning I put on my painting pants and my Bernie 2016 tee shirt. OK. I slept in the shirt. (No, I am not a Bernie fan this time around. It is time for a female president) The Weather Channel predicted rain, high of 74. I don't think that the WC understands mountain weather. It was down right chilly when I set out to prep the fence for painting. I changed into a merino wool shirt, underneath a flannel shirt with a bright, red fleece on top. By 11 I had peeled off the fleece and flannel (damn, I am alliterative today, yes?) and changed into my Insect-o-shield tee. The sun was out and I was ready to PAINT.
This fence has 38 sections of fourteen pickets each. We built it last year. Pressure treated lumber needs a year to dry out. It was hot and dry enough last year that I could have painted it (actually we are using a solid stain) last fall. I didn't

Want to get back to sewing machines? OK. I finally set up the Nolting 20 CLX in March. I put a practice sandwich on the frame and discovered that I could still quilt. I finished two UFOS and I even quilted a full sized quilt for a complete stranger. Mom was not supportive. She thought it was a bad idea. I agree. I doubt I could quilt for a money. I think it would take the love out of it.

I met J. in the late summer of 2017 on one of my trips while Steven and I  were in transition between NY and the 802.  In February of 2018 she had occasion to visit UVM Medical Center. There she saw this steel sculpture entitled "The Fabric of Life."  She texted me the photo and I set out to find fabrics to make a quilt.
  It took me until this past February to find the perfect collection. Now, I dd not search that whole time. It's just that the fabrics all came together this year.

I found the backing fabric (on hanger, upper right corner of photo) in my stash. I'm pleased as punch.