Since I no longer reside in the desert, it just seemed wrong to continue as The Desert Quilter. A kind of false advertising (although I honestly doubt that I’ll quilt any differently than I did in the desert). I’m now officially The Prairie Quilter. I tried to think of a funny blog name, like Quilting In My Pyjamas or Confessions of Fabric Addict; I tried to think of a clever play on words like The Way I Sew It or Such a Sew and Sew; or even a blog title with a bit of whimsy like Taradiddle and Malarky. I got zilch, zip, nada. It just seemed a straight shot from The Desert Quilter to the Prairie Quilter, so that’s how it is.
I also have a new email address attached to my blog: michelle_of_the_prairie AT yahoo.com. (I'm nothing if not predictable, eh?) Hopefully, all the blog settings are correct. When I'm sure the new email address is working well, I'll phase out the old one. It really needs to go. I ordered some meds online and the company must have sold my email address. Now, I'm getting all kinds of ads for viagra amongst other things, and a lot of it is getting by the spam filter. Very irritating.
Unpacking is the gift that keeps on giving. We’re probably about half done. Here’s what happened when I unpacked a box of clocks:
We’re not up to officially placing clocks, pictures, or wall-hangings on the walls yet. However, the previous tenant left this wall full of screws. (I’ve been wondering what they had hung there.) It seemed a good place to “store” the clocks until they find a permanent home. The interesting thing is that I kind of like it.
The room pictured is the sewing room (please ignore the mess). Yep it has a wet bar—sink and small fridge. We’ve got the coffee pot and toaster in place and will be adding a microwave soon.
Cat-Proofing the Kitchen:
Charley may be my quilt inspector, but he doesn’t limit his inspecting to quilts. Kitchen cabinets are also fair game. So I’ve been installing latches (no picture) and knobs. The knobs make it easier to open a cabinet with a latch on it, and it dresses them up a bit. I’m thankful for all the times I served as my dad’s helper. Until now, I’d never drilled a hole, but I can’t count the number of times I watched him do it. It’s coming in very handy.
I’ve developed a most distressing ailment. It’s called TripleT Q. It stands for Too Tired To Quilt. I haven’t quilted since I left Pahrump—not even hand-piecing on the NYBs. I so miss it, but the brain just doesn’t have room to think about it. It’s all unpacking all the time, and then when I can relax a bit in the evening, I’m just too darn tired. I never thought I’d say that.
I’m still hit and miss on my blog reading. You don’t know how I miss being able to sit and relax, and just peruse all your quilty loveliness. However, I do try to reward myself from time to time. If I’ve missed reading your blog lately, believe me it’s under duress. The darn boxes just keep demanding attention.