Spring Cleaning

Sometimes it happens because I have time at the very instant I see the need or I need to find something. And sometimes it happens because the walls come tumbling down. Walls of empty pizza boxes destined to become snowflake factories, walls of autographed CDs, walls of fabric scraps set aside for one day. Walls of rechargeable batteries that won't hold a charge. Walls of camera cords and filters from the past that don't fit the current camera. Walls of receipts and invoices and tax documents and medical paperwork and physical therapy instructions.

And the most recent magical spring cleaning experience? My bottle of water tipping over, landing upside down atop reams of paper I've had stored in the bookshelf since we bought the house 15 years ago.

I guess that's one ream of cardstock that won't get used. Thankfully, we have a great recycling program in our village.

It could have been worse. It could have been our genealogy. It could have been a box of family photos. It could have been important records, such as our marriage license. It could have been the box of brand new 2023 calendars that had been sitting in that very same spot just six months ago. Heck, the water could have spilled on my computer or my camera.

But like they say, no use in crying over spilt milk, right? No use in crying over spilt water. At least it was water! I can't imagine the fumes milk would have caused in a few hot days!!!

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Stroke of Luck

We had to get a new bike carrier when we gave my beloved 4Runner to my adopted son in 2021. (Lizard could no longer drive a stick shift, and now he can't drive even an automatic....) We left our Thule bike carrier on the back of the 4Runner because (we couldn't get it off, and) we knew my son would probably enjoy it and couldn't afford to buy one of his own. (I can't believe I have no photos of the whole 4Runner with the carrier!!!)

The new bike carrier perfectly matches the off-white little hatchback Lizard's mom bought used for us, hoping to extend Lizard's driving privileges just a bit longer. We were so excited to purchase the last off-white carrier Kuat may have made! When we drove to Lizard's mom's house for our first "vacation" since Lizard was diagnosed with Parkinson's, we could just see the envy on other Moab- and Fruita-bound motorists' faces as they passed our beautiful color-coordinated set-up! We managed to earn a few delightful thumb's ups in passing.

We haven't been on our bikes since October, due to snow and ice, and I've been very tempted to take the bike carrier off because it's not allowed in the building where I work. But I can't get the rack off by myself, so I have been parking hourly on the street outside my building and running back down to pump in more quarters every two hours if I stayed longer than two hours. (Fourth quarter is always super busy, so I often worked four to six hours in November and December and benefited from neighbors who would check on Lizard while I was gone.)

The week of Christmas, we had our first work group Christmas dinner in three years (Lizard and I had not been able to attend in 2019 due to his total knee replacement just a couple of days prior, and no one was scheduling business Christmas dinners in 2020 or 2021). I parked close to the restaurant in a relatively expensive lot bearing the all-too-familiar warning: "Any damage or loss to vehicle is the responsibility of vehicle owner." Lizard is not able to attend such functions anymore, and I didn't want to leave him alone too long, so the parking made for quick and easy escape when it was time to go.

I had to pump a few more dollars (not quarters at this lot!) into the pay station about half an hour before I left. When I left half an hour later, I discovered someone had hit my car and left the scene in just that short time!!! (I'd checked the car when I monetarily fed the parking station.)

I was horrified. But I also consider myself extremely blessed.

The bike carrier is bent, but it still works. It actually saved the car. If I had removed the bike carrier two months earlier, the impact probably would have severely damaged our car, which had been hit just hard enough to move it a couple of degrees to the left.

The fleeing party (pun intended; I think the driver likely was highly spirited) wasn't so lucky. The rear lights on the other car were no longer attached, and I'll bet my bike carrier left quite the impact statement on its wrestling ring opponent. I often wonder what that driver must have thought the next day upon noticing the damage...

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Friday Fascination

The Sauces Canyon eagle cam captured the raptor's reaction to a 5.3 earthquake. I've set the video to start just a few seconds before the actual quake, but they entire clip is worth watching if you have the time and love eagles as much as I.

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Snowflake Monday

Just last week, I vowed to try to set aside 15 minutes of crochet time each day. Sadly, that didn't happen.

On the first day, I had to take Lizard back to the neurosurgeon for his 13-week checkup. Work was too busy the next two days because I took time off to take Lizard to his appointment. Then I had to string 80 snowflakes because Lizard's mom's 80th birthday is this week, and I needed to get them in the mail!

After I got off work (late) on Friday, I finally got to pick up my crochet hook.

Today's snowflake is inspired by the 13th snowflake I photographed during our October 25-26 snowstorm. The prototype snowflake was created on Friday the 13th.

The Cameron Peak Fire and the Troublesome Fire are now contained. Is #13 a lucky flake or what?!?

You may do whatever you'd like with snowflakes you make from this pattern, but you may not sell or republish the pattern. Thanks, and enjoy!

Finished Size: 5.5 inches from point to point Materials: Size 10 crochet thread, size 7 crochet hook, empty pizza box, wax paper or plastic wrap, cellophane tape, water soluble school glue or desired stiffener, water, glitter, small container for glue/water mixture, paintbrush, stick pins that won't be used later for sewing, clear thread or fishing line

Triskaidekaphobia Snowflake Instructions

Make magic ring.

Round 1: 1 sc in ring, [ch 15, 1 dc in 6th ch from hook, ch 5, sl st in same ch, 1 sc in each of next 8 ch, ch 1, 2 sc in ring] 6 times, omitting last sc of final repeat; sl st in starting sc. Don't pull magic circle too tight. If you're not reading this pattern on Snowcatcher, you're not reading the designer's blog. Please go here to see the original.

Round 2: [1 sc in next ch 1 sp, working up spoke, 1 sc in bottom of each of next 7 sc, in next sc work (1 hdc, 1 dc, 1 tr), sl st in ch 5 loop, [[ch 7, 1 dc in 4th ch from hook, 1 sc in each of next 3 ch, 3 sc in same ch 5 loop (or next ch 5 loop in repeat)]] 2 times, ch 7, 1 dc in 4th ch from hook, 1 sc in each of next 3 ch, sl st in same ch 5 loop, working back down spoke, in next sc work (1 tr, 1 dc, 1 hdc,), 1 sc in each of next 7 sc, 1 sc in next ch 1 sp] 6 times; sl st in starting sc; bind off. Weave in ends.

Finish: Tape wax paper or plastic wrap to top of empty pizza box. Pin snowflake to box on top of wax paper or plastic wrap.

If using glue, mix a few drops of water with a teaspoon of glue in small washable container. Paint snowflake with glue mixture or desired stiffener. Sprinkle lightly with glitter. Wash paintbrush and container thoroughly. Allow snowflake to dry at least 24 hours. Remove pins. Gently peel snowflake from wax paper or plastic wrap. Attach 10-inch clear thread to one spoke, weaving in end. Wrap fishing line around tree branch (or tape to ceiling or any overhead surface) and watch snowflake twirl freely whenever you walk by! Snowflake also may be taped to window or tied to doorknob or cabinet handle.

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Lucky Sevens

What did I learn from ten days off social media and dramatically reduced news?

1. I missed my family.

2. I didn't miss the depression and sadness that often envelopes me when I read news.

3. I missed my blog and the blog community.

4. Just like every other day of the year, when my internet connection is not adequate or the sites I wish to visit are blocked, I had plenty of other things to do instead of spending time on the internet. It's become a way of life for me over the last five years, so that part didn't really change.

5. Most of the time I spent on my phone for the last 10 days was trying to duplicate photographed 7-point snowflakes in 6-point style, reading scriptures, and taking pictures. I get a weekly report now, after the last iPhone update, on Sunday nights giving me my average screen time. It will be most interesting to see the total tomorrow night because I think I was on the phone more than before my fast because I was reading scriptures (and General Conference talks) on my phone. I love the technology and ability to do that (or even read novels I've downloaded), no matter where I am or how bad my phone signal gets!!!

6. I still didn't get any sewing or quilting done, even though that was a goal.


If I ever do another social media fast, I probably will limit my news feeds again but not cut off methods of communicating with my family. I'm hoping I don't ever have to do another fast because one of the most important lessons I learned during the last 10 days is that I don't have to spend time grieving about the condition of the world.

A journalist at heart, I've been addicted to news feeds since I was a teenager. I set a goal to become a journalist when I was covering my first presidential election for my high school newspaper because I was so disgusted by the total vacuum of unbiased reporting, even back in the '70s. My teachers and later college professors had drilled into students the need to remain neutral, but none of the reporters I saw were doing that.

I fought journalism for a good 24 years, trying to make a difference and change what I could, without much real success at all. I finally abandoned the profession because it literally felt like a sinking ship. I still have newspaper ink coursing through my blood, but I do not miss the long hours, the negativity and the sensationalism.

I stopped watching most television in my early 20s because I didn't like most of what was being offered. I do not miss television at all.

And now, after this social media fast, I feel I can continue to pull back from the negativity and drama over which I have absolutely no control. The hunger to know everything that's going on every minute throughout the world is gone, although the craving still surfaces from time to time. During such bouts, I try to find a way to do something kind for someone else, and it's turning out to be the most wonderful substitute, equally addictive!

The other day, Lizard asked if I'm going to take snowflakes to Children's Hospital this year. I didn't get to last year because I couldn't crochet as much as I wanted, due to elbow pain caused by collapsed neck discs. I've been stashing flakes for kids all year long. When I told Lizard I plan to deliver a pizza box full of snowflakes around Thanksgiving, he asked if he can go, too, because he, too, wants to see the reaction of the staff when they open the box.

We don't get to see the kids' reactions, but the staff's reaction probably will send us to the moon and back, with plenty of enthusiasm to carry us all the way through the holidays.


Thank you to all those who hung in here at my blog, waiting for me to return, and leaving comments even though I was not reciprocating. It was refreshing to read all the comments last night and catch up on some of my favorite blogs. I learned my blog does not cause me depression or sadness (although inadequate internet access can still be a source of frustration), so I don't plan to take another break until the day I retire as a blogger.

There are days when I think 10 years is enough, and this is my 9th year. Most days, though, I can't imagine not blogging, although not having the pressure to come up with a new snowflake pattern every week sometimes seems like the ultimate vacation. I have about 10 months to decide, and being a woman, I could change my mind a million or seven times between now and then.


Of course, my blog hit the 7,000,000 mark while I was on my social media fast. Of course. Of course!!!!!!!

I noticed one day while looking for a snowflake pattern. I darn near missed the counter! I noticed all the nines four days before the actual rolling of the zeroes, and I calculated the magic moment would be about 1 or 2 p.m. Tuesday, October 16.

So, yes, I cheated. I set the tally-keeper to animated display (the only time during the entire 10 days I logged into Blogger), I took a few screen shots of my visitor total whenever I checked the weather (because, you know, it was just a couple more innocent clicks, and I didn't linger), and I peeked whenever I got a chance from about 11 a.m. Tuesday until 12:43 p.m. on the 16th. I got to see the number actually roll!!! That was awesome! What an adrenaline rush!

I was at work, where my website (and most anything fun on the internet) is blocked, so I was checking on my phone. It wasn't long before all my bosses and co-workers were looking over my shoulder so they could watch the tally climb, too. So the atmosphere was a bit festive, even though we had some severe limitations!

I think the coolest part of my newest collection of zeroes is that I just finished crocheting 50 7-point snowflakes for my parents for their Golden Anniversary, and 7,000,000 visitors to my blog just 10 days later is kind of like a crown of royalty!

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Tired

I discovered just a few days before my birthday I'd have to renew my driver's license on said birthday. Or jump through all kinds of extra hoops the following day or later.

It worked out great at work; my bosses (and all the bosses in our company) would be in meetings all day, and we'd have what is affectionately known as our catered Cat's Away lunch. The annual event is huge every year. It was the perfect day for me to be a little late. I wouldn't be missing out on anything.

I locked my front door at 6:05, planning to be first in line at the Department of Motor Vehicles when it opened at 8. As I backed out of the driveway, I heard this huge harrumph, harrumph.

I just knew I'd run over one of the neighborhood cats. My heart sank, and tears welled up in my eyes as I went to the back of the car to find out which feline had been resting beneath my car.

Instead I found a completely flat tire. Not low. No air whatsoever.

I thought I'd ruined the rim coming off the driveway because the rim hit the street so hard. I tried to park the car so it wouldn't be in the way and The Lizard wouldn't have as difficult a time changing the tire as he would have had the car been on the sloped driveway. I didn't have time to change the tire myself. I went back into the house to begin calling neighbors who also work 30 miles away in downtown Denver to find out if I could hitch a ride with someone.

After leaving three messages, I finally found a ride. I locked up the house and walked out to the corner to be picked up. I redialed the first three numbers to let other neighbors know I'd found a ride. Turned out I'd awoken each of them. I felt guilty.


I called The Lizard at work to inform him of the biggest birthday surprise I've had in quite a while. We didn't chat long because my ride showed up.

"I hope you don't mind if we take my daughter to school," my neighbor said.

"Not at all," I replied. I hope you don't mind if I need to part ways with you at the DMV so I can renew my license."

As I buckled my seat belt, the 14-year-old in the back of the car, who is getting her learner's permit next week, piped in, "My mom told me to always check all four tires before I get in our car."

"Good idea!" I told her with a smile. "You can darn sure bet I'll do that every time I have to drive from now on."

After dropping her off at school, we headed toward downtown Denver. Within a mile, there came that sanity-gouging noise again.

Harrumph, harrumph, harrumph...

I knew that noise. I'd experienced that noise. Most recently! I knew exactly what it meant. The calendar had to be wrong. This HAD to be Friday the 13th!

My neighbor was able to pull over safely. I offered to help change the tire, but she insisted on calling her husband to rescue us.

I finally arrived at the Department of Motor Vehicles three minutes after it opened, and I was 14th in line. And two hours late for work.

But not late for free pizza at work for lunch!




The day got only better from there. My dear, sweet husband brought home flowers for me, and it turned out I didn't have to replace the rim. Just one tire, not two.


The joy of having a full-size spare! My 382,000-mile, nearly 20-year-old car is still running on factory spare and factory rims. As well as factory upholstery and factory paint. The engine has had a lot of work over the years, but it's still original, too.

Me and my car. We're both showing signs of age, but we keep right on purring! Or purling... ha ha ha!

I think I might be contagious, though. I won't be getting in anyone else's car until I know the flat tire virus has abated.

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Jump!

We studied our road map to find a halfway point between North Cascades and Yellowstone. Missoula seemed like a short enough drive, and yet close enough to Yellowstone, we wouldn't be wiped out from driving the next day.

We booked a room, solely for the purpose of showering and laundry, although sleeping on a bed instead of in a sleeping bag sounded inviting, too. Then when we had fleeting phone signal, I searched for things to do in Missoula.

Smokejumpers didn't top the list of 25 things to do in Missoula, but it drew our attention more than any other item on the official list. A tour the following morning would put us on the road to Yellowstone a couple of hours later than we would have liked, but how could we NOT go?

After 8 solid hours of sleep that was just too good to be true and a load of laundry in a washer that actually worked (our first coin-wash of the trip was not as pleasant), and reading about Paul McCartney's concert the night before over a light breakfast, we arrived at the Smokejumper Visitor Center right as the first tour, as advertised on the internet, should have begun. Fortunately or not, the web site had not kept up with the current schedule, and we would have to wait a full hour for the actual first tour of the day. (You mean we could have slept another hour?!?)

I stewed momentarily because that one-hour delay would put us well beyond midnight in the heart of Yellowstone, which I wanted to see during the day. We'd done a hotel room search prior to leaving Colorado only to find anything still available on the south end of the Park way out of our financial reach.

The Lizard, however, announced he would be willing to drive straight through to Colorado in order to take the Smokejumper tour. How could I deny him that after he took us out of the way to visit the Portland Temple and North Cascades just for me???

The Smokejumper Visitor Center lies within the Missoula airport, and, The Lizard being a huge fan of aircraft of all kinds, there would be no bouts of boredom waiting an hour for our tour to begin.

Sure enough, views of Smokejumper aircraft through the fence provided the perfect entertainment to keep this photographic couple busy and shooting.


EXCEPT, my little Nikon would not power up!!!

I'd attempted charging the little camera via the DC adaptor and the car battery while we were in North Cascades, and the adaptor kept whining and whistling. It had never made such noise before. It's pretty old, almost as old as one of my adopted kids, so I thought maybe it was nearing obit status.

But then when I tried to charge the camera at the hotel in Missoula, it never fully charged, even though I had it plugged in all night.

I snapped a photo with the iPhone, because that was the only other camera I had with me, and told The Lizard to keep shooting. I was going back to the car for my big gun, the D300 Nikon, for which I had successfully recharged all the batteries the night before.

At the car, I decided to try the little Nikon's backup battery, which had not been used in longer than I can remember. I didn't know if it would hold a charge that long, but I had to know if it was the charger, the battery or the camera that was kaput. Battery or charger, I could stomach. Camera -- that was a different emotion. I do have another camera to use, but this little, lightweight, all-in-one camera has been such a blessing during Ride the Rockies and the MS-150. It is a breeze to use at work when my photography skills are called upon there. Losing it would be like losing a best friend. All my cameras, even the iPhone, are like a piece of me, and it hurts to lose one. Physically. Emotionally. Devastatingly.

I popped in the backup battery and turned on the camera, and it went right into action!

The relief I felt is indescribable. I've already ordered a new battery, which just happens to come with a replacement charger as well as yet another backup battery, all for less than the cost of the original battery when the camera was brand new, and soon I'll be back up and running just like before. Whew!

Meanwhile, the aircraft The Lizard had been watching took off, and another took its place. It's a busy season for firefighters.


When the visitor center tour began, we learned how each Smokejumper sews his own jumpsuit and what an intern must do to qualify as a master parachute packer. We saw Smokejumpers preparing for the next call, we saw sewing Smokejumpers, and we saw returning Smokejumpers preparing their parachutes for their next jump. We learned what it takes to become a Smokejumper, and then...

WE GOT TO MEET ONE!!!


He invited us onto the plane that would be transporting the next crew to the next fire because we were in the right place at the right time.

Everything during this vacation had been falling smoothly into place, and this stop, this tour, had been the best of all so far. The Lizard was having the time of his life, and I got to be there to see it!

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Discovery

I spent a couple of hours searching nearly every unpacked box in the house looking for a notebook binder of CDs I'd burned before my pre-millennium computer bonked for good. We’d moved into our house two years earlier, at the beginning of cycling season. For whatever multiple reasons, we still have yet to unpack. So searches such as this have become commonplace.

I needed a very old photo, pre-digital, and I hoped it might be on one of the hundred or so CDs I cranked out of my old Gateway before it breathed its last breath. I didn't want to search 16 boxes of photos if the one I needed had never been scanned. I didn't have time for that, and I didn't want to open the cans of worms some of the old photos might contain. Going through old photos often brings out a few long-forgotten emotions.

Finally, I was down to one unopened box. Labeled "winter," this huge box could not contain the CD binder. No way. I had packed this box in another lifetime, before I even owned a Gateway computer. Yet I opened the box anyway. It was the final box yet to be opened from any of my moves in the past... maybe three decades, I suspected.


Fleece, blankets, coats, Christmas fabric, more fleece and more Christmas fabric. Wow, I forgot I'd bought all that fabric after Christmas one year. Long, long ago. Back when I still had little ones at home for whom I could make quilts.

The bottom layer on the box almost glowed. Radiant in being found, it reached into the deepest, darkest corner of my mind and yanked me back to the day I packed the box.

Yes, that particular packing day was traumatic, but this find made up for all the heartrending memories. There at the bottom of the box was the collection of snowflake fabric I'd begun as a teenager. I'd started a snowflake quilt before adopting my first child, then worked on it again after adopting a second. Every once in a while, life would slow down just enough for me to finish off one more square, then back in the bag the project would go, awaiting the next morsel of free time. This went on for years. Then both kids ran away. Everything got packed up so my townhome could be sold.


That was eight years ago. I have searched for that snowflake fabric many times since then. I wanted to finish the quilt I'd started. I wanted to make a tree skirt. I wanted to embark upon all kinds of snowflake fabric projects. I’d added more blue snowflake fabric to my collection each January as it went on clearance. But that initial stack, the fabrics comprising so many of my early years, was nowhere to be found.

Until I needed an old photo!

After this year's race to finish a small snowflake quilt for the Denver National Quilt Festival, I'd decided I would take a month off from quilting, then start on next year's entry so I wouldn't be cramming at the last minute again. I had a few ideas. I bought a bit more fabric. Snowflakes, however, continued calling to me. I still longed to finish that old quilt.


Once I found my treasure lost, I couldn’t wait to get started. But cycling season had taken control of my life. I worried the fabric might get lost again, for maybe another decade, if I didn’t keep it out right in the open, where I could see it on the rare occasions when I was home before bedtime.

While training for Pikes Peak, I dreamed one night I made it to the top, and I was surrounded by media microphones and cameras. “What are you going to do now, Ms. Lanterne Rouge?” they all inquired, Super Bowl- and World Series-styled, expecting a Disneyland reply.

“I’m going to finish a quilt!” I excitedly beamed.

Now the two fantasies trade places. Pikes Peak goes back in the dream pile, and the snowflake quilt comes out for a jaunt to a finish line of its own. I’m hoping to finish this baby up before Christmas.

Oh, and I found the CD binder, too. Safely stored beneath the bed, right where it should have been. The photo I needed was in there. So all the rest of our boxes get to stay packed. For now.

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