Author: Quilter

I find life lessons and sometimes the humor and/or hope in everyday events.

Waste Not

Quilter4 Comments
© jb katke

The saying goes, ‘Waste not, want not.’ Frightening as it may sound hang with my random thoughts here.

In a former life I was a quilter but remain a fabriholic. My fabric stash has been greatly downsized, but has potential. It’s all good for something. Just about every quilt I’ve made has shared the same sentiment, “I’ll not make that again.”

The last being a cathedral window quilt. It is a prime candidate for using up excess scraps. I used up enough to have to go out and purchase more fabric, an exercise in futility for you. These blasted two-inch squares are the leftovers and I’m making an effort to use them as well. Saved for some day.

Today’s point has nothing to do with fabric or quilting. The focus is on opportunities. I have missed National Son’s Day. Again. For starters, I don’t keep track of them until the day arrives. Then feel bad about it, until I remember my son doesn’t keep track either. He seldom gets on social media, so he doesn’t feel snubbed—leaving me feeling guilty for nothing.

Not to mention National Daughters Day. I have more than one of them and I’d miss that too, just to be fair. Here is what I am saying:

I am incredibly proud of every one of my children. Despite their tendencies in childhood, they have grown to be hard-working, responsible, law-abiding adults. They made excellent choices in their spouse as well, as the blessings carry on.

This is my sentiment every day of the year. Not just once a year for those national days I keep missing. I give a shout out to them because they deserve it. They may not realize this post immediately because, for them, it’s a work day. They all lead busy lives. Eventually, one of them may get to it and contact their siblings, “Hey did you catch mom wrote about us?”

Let those you love know how much they are loved. Life is so short and accidents happen. It is easy to think there is time, but tragedies occur on a daily basis. Our family has experienced a few and know we are not alone.

It is a sad dirty shame I didn’t realize how precious time is when we had little ones. Young families are up to their eyeballs with, well, young families. Life stops for no one. Its when more years are behind you than in front that prompts reflection.

Another word. If your fortunate enough to have grandparents, spend time talking with them. I didn’t and regret it. Older folks have stories to share to whoever will listen. They have lived through some stuff and pass on some words of wisdom.

Who else could picture fabric scraps and speak of time well-spent?

Stranger things have happened.

This I Know…

Quilter2 Comments
© jb katke

…head colds now reveal themselves differently in me than before. Because misery loves company, my husband Dave joined me. Technically, he started it. The difference between us is he went to work and I returned to bed.

…having to back out of five commitments told me I am busy. I may long for a time out, but acknowledge my life has purpose.

…drinking more water is advisable, but does not taste as good as Coke. Frozen Coke, better yet.

… it is not a good idea to procrastinate. Laundry multiplies.

… the sun rising to a new day, regardless of how I feel boggles my mind.

…doing things that are good for me is not fun. Going for walks is time-consuming.

…reading makes me tired and I have so many books to read.

… I truly don’t like change, unless it’s for the better.

…when my sewing machine misbehaves, it is time to walk out of the quilt room.

…while certain foods may be healthy and necessary, if it makes you gain weight, it’s evil.

…life is what you make it, dang it.

…dogs try to make friends with people that don’t like dogs, Just ask Dave, he can tell you.

…I can be a whiner if I set my mind to it. 

… Jesus loves me anyway. He said so in the Good Book. Starting a day reading what he says, makes the day go better. It is a supernatural experience. Trust me, I know.

…asking Jesus to take control of my life does not guarantee a problem-free life. He just makes it bearable one day at a time.

…Jesus gives me something the world cannot. Worry-free. Another mind-boggler is what he allows to take place on earth—just know his patience will come to an end.

…peace and contentment can be had.

…that you need Jesus as much as I do.

Don’t forget—Jesus loves you more than you realize.

Selling Point

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©jb katke

Have you ever encountered something that impacted you in a big way? You were not looking for it—it just presented itself to you. Add seeing it in the most unexpected place. Wow, right?

Pictured here is what was written on a business van, just making its daily service calls. I was running an errand—not on the lookout for a meaningful moment. But here it was.  

Currently I am in progress of writing a devotional and the wording on the van “It’s about the relationship” resonated with me. Some way, some how this will work itself into my book. My plan is not so much to teach, but it could. True to my way of doing things, it is intended to plant encouragement and hope. Could ya use some?

The words on this truck nailed it. I don’t have a plumbing, heating, or air conditioning issue—but if I did, I would be inclined to call them up. What is it that sells you on any given product or service?

It seems the way of the world is to tell people what they want to hear. Give the shoddiest job done and move on. Years ago, Dave and I were on the receiving end of a similar situation. I got a verbal estimate and requested a written statement for my husband to read over. Going to his truck, the man tore off a corner of paper and wrote the price down. Real professional, huh?

That’s not the way to promote your business.  I know. My husband was a remodeler in a previous life. Early on, most of his work was from recommendations. Friends of friends. Small repairs often grew into future home remodels on a larger scale. It was important to listen the homeowners because—bottom line, these people had to live with the end result.

It just makes sense to establish a relationship first. Offensive as it may sound, first impressions are your first impression. If that does not go well, forget it.

That holds true in business, co-workers, and neighbors. How we present ourselves is the defining moment. Considering the fact that nothing happens by accident, it could even be a Jesus moment.

There is Hope

Quilter2 Comments
© jb katke

Me and my kitchen have never been good friends.

Memories of bloopers flood my mind. My future husband, Dave, gave me a cookbook a year in advance of our marriage. I took the cellophane off it after our wedding. Shortly after opening it I cooked a roast misunderstanding the oven temperature for the inner temperature of the meat. Dinner was late that night.

The year I roasted my first turkey, Dave invited a single friend to join us. For starters I neglected to realize there were little ‘treats’ left inside the cavity that needed to come out. Before roasting. Our friend loved stuffing, or dressing, as some say. Call it what you will, I didn’t make any. It’s bad enough to not enjoy cooking, but to be a disappointment to your guest. That is unacceptable.

There was the cake that refused to raise, ditto for the meringue on my lemon pie. Need I go on?

It isn’t just food issues, it’s appliances too. When the kitchen was remodeled a dishwasher and garbage disposal was added. I didn’t see the need them I wasn’t missing what I didn’t have. It’s for resale value I was told.  No time at all and I had adjusted to them.

Years ago, when microwaves were the thing, Dave insisted our kitchen should have one. I resisted—I fought the new-fangled thing that would take up space on the counter. The kids would grow used to one so that when they left home it would be a necessity in their mind. All to no avail. The pressure was on when we purchased one for Mom, with a price too good to be true. Now I cannot imagine a kitchen without one. Told ya so.

Yesterday was da ja vu. Air fryers were the topic.

Mine will arrive today. But no promises from me. Again, I resisted, but knuckled under ahead of schedule. I know defeat when I see it. I will get used to it as I did to all our other conveniences. Adjusting to change is hard when your husband does all he can to make my life easier.

Here we Are Again

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© jb katke

Every year, about this time memories kick into gear. Valentines Day.

So many past reflections of Valentines. Remember the sweet sentiments our children brought home from school mandated by the teacher? Perhaps too, the child returning home, broken hearted over the coveted valentine that never came by a certain person.

It’s nice to have a home where we are accepted and tears can flow freely.

One Valentines Day in particular was an oops. As my daughter and I were talking a woman unlocked our door and entered with her arms full of cleaning gear.

“Marge?”

“No, you must have the wrong house.”

Thinking he had arranged a treat for me, I called Dave at work. He laughed at the situation. Still today, I fail to see the humor. Some stranger had a key to our home.

Why oh why, did I not let her go about her business?

Many moons ago, I experienced that aforementioned broken heart. My job as receptionist was to accept and distribute all the beautiful incoming flowers the privileged employees were receiving from their loved one. None for yours truly, I felt special to no one. Oh yes, I regret to admit, Dave heard about it. He hasn’t made that mistake again. He has become more vocal in how much I mean to him. Expressed love was all that I needed.

That experience taught me something. What about widows? They have memories of expressed love they no longer hear. The following year, the only year, I rectified that. A friend of mine, a kind and gentle woman who was now working to support herself. Money was tight and I imagine her life had taken a hit at losing her husband. Having a tight budget ourselves, I purchased a few flowers, put them in a small vase and took them to her place of employment.

She was surprised and touched by my thinking of her. We have since lost touch with each other. Man, I wish I was better at staying in touch with friends! If my words resonate with you, bringing an individual to mind, I hope you do something special for them. Lifting up another brings smiles to both your faces.

About that feeling loved thing. We are. Look into the reflection in your mirror. Our Creator thought enough about each individual on the face of this earth to bring us into being. That’s a lot of thinking folks. We need each other and we need him.

Happy Valentines every day.

Permissible Remains

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© jb katke

Mom used to refer to leftovers from dinner as remains. Hardly exudes an appetite, no matter how  disguised it is for another meal.

I have fabric scraps lingering from a quilt project that I hope to never repeat again. These little squares take up valuable real estate in the quilt room, and their presence gets in the way of  my moving forward. To address the situation, I am making quilt blocks for a future quilt I may never make. Translated: the real estate now has become a larger storage issue.

Do you have past experiences that you wished had never been? Regrets that weigh you down today, even though the occurrence was long ago?

Some things cannot be disguised. Not in food. Not in a quilt. It is the most uncomfortable of ruts to live in. So—don’t. Give yourself permission to do something about it.

Moving forward is easier said than done. Harsh words or regrettable actions harden with age. Let it be said here that I do not have all the answers to life’s issues. But today could be the start of a larger-than-life change.

Using the quilt block for instance, I gave myself permission. I told me it was okay to put those tiny little pieces together to make something bigger. They had potential for use and future warmth.

Ill-spoken words cannot be unsaid, but there is room for an updated version that can bring a balm to the soul  and relief from guilt.

Ditto for regrettable actions. Here is a thought. Try mending relationships with new and improved actions. If done long enough, kindness wins. Even if it falls apart, you have made a commendable effort.

Give yourself permission to right wrongs. Life is too short and the burden of guilt gets heavier over time. You are worth the effort. Jesus knows your potential and with a little help from him, it becomes mission-possible.

The Unexpected

Quilter2 Comments
© jb katke

An unwelcome and unexpected visitor came by this week. If the possum could talk, he/she may have been in agreement.

We have a couple window wells that come flush with mother earth. Animals can easily be nosing along the ground when suddenly they are pedaling air until reaching a stone-filled landing. Three concrete walls surround them with a row of windows on the other side.

Our home is in a well populated, heavily trafficked neighborhood, meaning the critters do not have much woods to call home. But this wasn’t the first time. One would think word would pass in the animal kingdom.

There is no alternative but to get the homeowners attention. Get me outta here!

This, in the dead of night. My dearly beloved is about to crawl into bed when the scratching began. If left unattended our window would be destroyed. On go the clothes, out comes the truck, down comes a long board to put into the window well so the poor thing can crawl out. Which he/she takes their lazy good-for-nothing time to do.

C’mon, it’s cold out here and I wanna go to bed.

I slept through the whole escapade. When morning came, I found him/her eating breakfast.

Have you ever found yourself in a hopeless situation? You need help but unsure of where to turn. What can a person do in the dead of night with no one around to help? Pray? It can’t hurt.

The Good Book tells us that not a sparrow falls that Jesus does not know about it. Surely, he looks after possums—and people too. Pray. What do you have to lose?

Feeding the flock

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© de katke

It has been freezing outside. I can say this with confident authority because I was born and raised in the northern part of the Midwest. I know cold.  Never has it been like this past week.

In my home state of Michigan, we had our share of winter weather. More snow than ice, which is preferable to me. Snow can be dealt with, just shovel it out of the way. Ice is downright treacherous. The coldest of days, in my memory bank, may have hit a few degrees below zero, in the night, days were not as severe.

Kansas has been the victim of the highs breaking -13 degrees. Combine that with a continual wind and you have the recipe for a miserable outdoors. This time of year, a commercial advertising pets left outside to suffer in the cold pulls on the heart strings. My heart goes out to mistreated animals in any weather.

That is why we are keeping a close eye on our bird feeder. How those little birds are surviving this brutal winter is beyond my explanation. They have become regular visitors to our feeding station. Flocks of them.

In the Good Book Jesus mentions that not a single sparrow dies that his dad doesn’t know about it. As a part of his creation, he cares for birds too, but they were not made in his image. Jesus fed flocks but not the feathered variety, he fed the people kind. Wherever Jesus went, flocks of people followed.

All kinds of folks with various degrees of hunger. The sick hungered for healing. Jesus’ reputation for healing gave hope of a better life. They showed up wherever Jesus’ travels took him. Some hungered for a good show and maybe get a free meal. They too, came.

Twelve men tagged along because they had been called upon for on-the-job training. Women followed to provide the meals and be a support system. Religious leaders gave time and attention as well. In hopes of catching Jesus in mistakes.

If you have a hunger for Jesus and follow him, I am curious to know what variety hunger you have. In what way does he ‘feed’ you?

Post Christmas

Quilter4 Comments
© jb katke

What a difference a couple generations make. Pictured is the toybox my mother had as a child. By todays standard, she had next to nothing.

What did children do back it the day? My guess is they used their imagination. Children were also vital members of the family. They had responsibilities—whether it be helping with the dishes or feeding the chickens. It was another way of life. Foreign to many young ones today.

Getting our children to clean their rooms was a constant battle. It took all day. Only because they unearthed a toy shoved deep under the bed—prompting renewed interest in it as a long-lost friend. Play time!

After Christmas, it was time to find a place for the new playthings.

After a full day of cleaning/playing in their bedroom it looked no better than when they started. Desperate parents do desperate things. Their dad brought in the big guns, the garden rake and a huge box. Toys left out were raked into the box. The only way to get them back was to purchase them. Prices ranged from a penny to a nickel.

In fairness to them, twenty-twenty hindsight acknowledges the kids lacked a thing called away. Toyboxes only hold so much—and no place to put puzzles or games that might spill pieces. To our surprise—and disappointment, some things were never purchased. 

That was a huge lesson for us. We had our reasons, but bought too much! The grandparents on both sides of the family had limited income. We picked up the slack—wanting our children to have a good Christmas. Or birthday—the only times gifts were given.

Today I read of families that prior to the holidays, go through the toys, selecting the ones outgrown to donate to other children. It teaches charity and letting go. Both have value in todays’ economy. I learn my best child-raising ideas after it is too late. Mine are now grown adults. I might add they all live responsible lives, despite their over-indulgent parents. We are not alone.

Jesus gives good gifts too, on a daily basis. The necessary ones, that will draw us to him so we can spend eternity together. He too overindulges—on grace, mercy and forgiveness. 

OMG-She’s Alive!

Quilter2 Comments
© jb katke

Her lights flashed to get our attention.

Dave: “Alexa, do you have a notification?”

Alexa: “One new notification from Alexa News from Fox News. ___________. Do you want to hear more?”

Dave: “No.”

Me: “I wonder why she does that? She says it is from both Alexa News and Fox News too.”

Alexa: “I’m sorry, I don’t have an answer to that.”

Yikes—she heard me and responded!

Artificial Intelligence, or AI, has been a regular topic in the news of late. It started out as convenience, but has quickly become a concern.

We have been using it—perhaps without realizing it. Have you texted someone recently and found the word you were starting to write pop up? That is AI. Or maybe while scrolling through the internet gathering info on a potential purchase—suddenly all these ads come at you without your prompting? AI is at work. I heard of a couple talking face to face, in front of their phones apparently, and ads starting streaming in to relate to their conversation.

Can it go too far? Technology knows so much these days that it can be frightening.

This has been a talking point in the writers meetings I have attended. It seems there are websites available that will help an author produce an online book using their own voice.

As tempting as that may sound, I suspect there may be drawbacks.

TV commercials speak of multiple mortgages being made on your home without your knowledge. Snail mail enters your mailbox of a security breach at your bank. While it may or may not be AI, it definitely is technology. It is only a matter of time and your voice may be ‘kidnaped’ and used against you in some way.

Yes, in my world, that is going too far—and we all should proceed with caution.

But consider this:

There is one who does more that hear what we say—he reads hearts. He knows our thoughts and desires. Not Santa Claus, but Jesus. The Good Book documents such happenings in Mark 2:6-8 and Luke 9:46, to name a couple instances.

Words should be used wisely—and beware of what enters our heart. He knows. Jesus understands what we want—and like a good father provides for our needs. There is a difference, and can explain why some of our desires go unfulfilled. It takes faith and trust to comprehend what the fifties television show indicates, Father Knows Best.

https://blogreedsy.com/guide/audiobooks/ai-narration