Rambling day and thoughts of Life.

We did it, the mower deck is off and the broken gas line is off. I have only one battle scar. David was a big help. Bless his heart, he has such a hard time getting down on his knees and even a harder time getting back up.

I put him in charge of holding the bolt and nut baggie. That way nothing was lost.

I pulled and pulled on the cotter pins. Man, some of those were in there tight.

After we removed the deck, we turned it over and beat out some of the dings. I am pretty bad at running over things, things I should not hit. Oh well,. I can't see every rock or problem.

Tomorrow I will take the blades to the shop to be sharpened, that will be nice. New sharp blades to begin the year with.

I also have to buy the new gas line and filters.

I rather enjoyed my little chore. So officially today I was a mechanic. Only problem found, I smelled of gas and oil. Hands stayed relatively clean. I also drained the oil and am now ready to put in new oil as soon as I put the new filter on.

At one point I moved the tractor, forgetting the oil pan was still under the mower. Now I have to clean up oil and kitty litter from the floor. (Yes we covered the oil spill with kitty litter. Removes smell and absorbs the liquid.)

My next big chore is preparing the garage for a yard sale. I have lots of things to sell. Lamps, dishes, clothes, Kiln, china for painting, Rainbow vacuum. I can make a few bucks and maybe go shopping for a new outfit. I have not bought one in so long, but that is another story.

I have worked on my black and white quilt tonight, I need another color to finish it off. The total black and white are too stark, but it has to be something elegant. Something to say, White Tie Affair.

I will, again go to my favorite quilt shop, (quilts in the Attic). This little quaint shop is located in Cottonwood. An old Cowboy town It has no signal lights in old town, It has quaint shops and a wonderful little cafe.

The quilt shop is in a hundred year old building, and up a set of stairs that squeak with each step. When I go in I take one step at a time, (one to eliminate overexertion, two to enjoy the quilt show displayed on the walls as you go up the steps.)

As I said I love fabrics, If I were wealthy my house would be full of fabric, Now would I ever get it made into something? That is the question. I just love to look at it and marvel at the craftsmanship.

I began looking at fabric at a very young age. Never knowing the influence it was having on me. The child then to become an adult obsessed with fabric.Fabric with history and variations of color and design.

I looked at the flour sacks or feed sacks, my Mama brought in, often exclaiming on the dress I wanted out of that sack, once it was empty.

I seldom recall shopping for fabric, In fact my first real experience was in Home economics. I had to shop for fabric for a skirt. I chose a yellow, and made a beautiful pleated skirt. My next project was a dress, ruffle on the sleeves and very cute. Problem is, we lived in a small town with only one fabric shop.

To my amazement my best friend picked the same fabric and pattern.

When the day came to finalize our projects, we put our heads together. We hated the length of the dress. We never took into consideration the extra needed for the hem so we whacked them off.

We ended up with pretty short dresses. We wore them with pride. Some of our friends said, Ms. Rippy will never let you wear those!!!

They were only about 3 inches above the knee but definitely a no no in 1962. (especially in Sheridan Arkansas.

Mary, my friend had polio so with her braces and her beautiful crooked back, her dress was unusually short when she walked.

She just laughed and wore it anyway. I figured if she could be so positive, I could too.

Funny I have not thought of Mary in years. I wonder how she is doing.

We used to stay in touch when I went to Arkansas. The last time I saw her was in 2000, when my brother passed away.

I would love to see her smiling face.

She was an amazing person, While we were in 4th grade she contracted polio from the vaccine. I never saw her down or depressed over the situation. I spent one summer visiting her when she was placed in a full body cast. (she just lived up the road from me). She never became angry, she just took one day at a time. I am sure she saw children much worse off than herself when she went to the polio clinic in Little Rock.

I recall one Christmas she was the poster child in Arkansas for polio. Anyone remember the poster children for diseases?

I have to confess, I was sort of jealous, she got to turn on the lights at the Capital for Christmas. I believe she also did the Sheridan lights, but the Capital lights stayed in my memory.

We all cheered when they came on.

Mary was always an inspiration to me. She kept me going in the rough teen times.



So where ever you are Mary K Mitchell, I still love and admire you and your spirit and your face.
Thank you so much for inspiration.

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