quiltersmuse.com Blog

Cakes, cakes, cakes. What would a special occasion be without a cake? When I was a little kid, I looked forward to birthdays and holidays, partly because of my mother’s abilities in cake making. My mother loved cakes. She would make a cake on a whim, as well as for a dedicated reason.

There are so many photos of cakes in the family album, I thought I would share a few with you. After all, the photos have no calories!

The cake above was made for James Gorham, my son, and her grandson.

She would add store-bought decorations like little ceramic Easter bunnies, or a miniature diploma, or candied confections.

The photo above shows my (late) brother, Steve, “wearing” and holding two decorations and sitting before a scrumptous piece of cake that my mother made for him when he graduated from the University of New Hampshire with a teaching degree in Agriculture.

Mom would experiment. She would “bake from scratch,” or bake with a cake mix. Her cakes came out well, no matter what. I have her recipe for Buttercream frosting down to a science: 1 box of Confectioner’s sugar, 1 tsp. vanilla, 1 stick of unsalted butter, and 1/4 cup milk. She liked to add peach preserves in the middle of a layer cake.

Her Christmas cakes always had white frosting and coconut on the top, and sometimes, strawberry preserves, in the middle. Her German Chocolate cakes were a lot of work and very special! I really liked her Confetti cake, and Angel Food cake, served with Strawberries, or dipped in Chocolate Fondue.

This photo is from 1986 when my mother made a cake for Jim’s birthday, knowing that he loves chocolate!

During my lifetime, I have made my share of cakes, too.

This highly-decorated bear cake was a “bear” to complete, and it is the only cake of its kind I ever attempted. It was made for my son’s 4th birthday.

I hope you have enjoyed this brief romp through the photo album. Let me know if, on the basis of seeing these photos, you just had to bake a cake! pat@quiltersmuse.com

Patricia Cummings
Quilter’s Muse Publications

The sound of crunching cars is unmistakable. I should be used to it by now. We live on a busy street, made much busier by commuter traffic in the late afternoon. Yes, we have had another car accident, right in front of our house, involving a lead car with one person in it, followed by another little red car, in which the woman’s head smashed into the windshield, and behind that a large white van, the driver of which seems to be unhurt.

The police have not yet arrived. The sound of sirens are just going off now as a fire engine is reaching the scene. Traffic is backed up like you wouldn’t believe, and there is some kind of liquid all over the road.

We did attend a meeting about this road, led by city planners, a few weeks ago. At the time, I mentioned my concern about the number of accidents on this stretch of road. Today, we cannot blame road conditions. There is no ice. It appears that people were following too closely, and perhaps did not notice a turn signal. Well, what else would we have for amusement (not really!), other than the wildlife in the backyard? Back to staring at the accident from the 2nd floor.

If people can’t learn how to drive, they should “park it.”

Update: An rescue vehicle just placed the woman on a stretcher, stabilizing her head. It appears that she sustained a bad injury. She was the passenger in the second car. Oh, my. My thoughts and prayers go with all who were involved.

Patricia Cummings

The photo above is a picture of an overcast and rainy day in northern Maine

Rain and sun are two diametrically-opposed forces in the universe and man needs both of them to survive. Perhaps that is one of the reasons that they have been mentioned in song and verse so frequently.

One armchair philosopher thinks that life is about learning to “dance in the rain.” Of course, Ginger Rogers and Fred Astair thought the same thing, years ago, and produced a song, “Dancin’ in the Rain.” (”What a wonderful feeling, I’m happy again.”)

In the late twentieth century, the statement was made that “Rainy day people never let you down.” Judy Garland made “Over the Rainbow” a hit song, via the movie “Wizard of Oz.”

Here is a brighter picture of the north country, when the sun shone on the autumn leaves.

No matter how much “rain” there is in our lives, we can rest assured that the sun will always come out again. John Denver sang, “Sunshine on my shoulder makes me happy.” Another songwriter wrote, “Here Comes the Sun,” and yet another penned the words, “Walkin’ on Sunshine.”

We do not have to look long or think hard to find other songs that mention rain or sun. However, it seems that we always have either too much rain or too much sun, in terms of the land and growing crops.

Turning to financial matters, my father always encouraged people to “save for a rainy day.” At the time he organized Credit Unions, Cuna Mutual Insurance Company’s logo was a little man carrying an umbrella.

No matter how carefully we plan our lives, the unexpected, but sometimes, not quite so unexpected, happens. Dad always thought that people should have a financial “cushion,” as he put it.

He was good at dispensing advice that he could not easily follow himself, due to financial commitments to his family. His little bit of savings was quickly eaten up by the cost of a lingering illness. We can’t always outsmart circumstance.

While rain may symbolize hardship, struggle, sadness and grief, sunshine represents new beginnings and a light heart. It is easy to see how and why the images of rain and sun are both incorporated into music lyrics.

Today, it is raining. As I sit here, writing this note, I can’t help but think of the Eagle we watched, all hunkered down, sitting on a beach in northern Maine. His feathers were soaking wet and he was so “into himself,” he was almost unrecognizable as one of his kind. Then, the sun suddenly appears. He spread his wings and took to the sky – up, up, up, circling into the distance, where we quickly lost sight of him.

Wherever you are on this day, if it is raining outside, or if you are troubled, know in your heart of hearts that a better day awaits. We must never feel defeated by exterior circumstances that we cannot control, whether it is the rain, or the economy, or personal losses. There is a higher purpose to our lives and we are called to be all that we can be.

Patricia Cummings
Quilter’s Muse Publications

Facebook, an interactive social network online, is more than what it might appear to be, at first glance. People connect there, in meaningful ways. It is on Facebook that I first became aware of a landscape quilt artist named Valerie Hearder. One can see Valerie’s beautiful work on her website. She travels the world to teach, as well she should, being so talented, and she has written several books. Her first one is already out of print. Valerie currently lives in Nova Scotia, Canada and has been quilting since 1972.

When I saw some intriguing folk art textiles from South Africa, on Facebook, I had to know more. I contacted Valerie and in so doing, was able to purchase a small, embroidered piece to help support the “Grandmother to Grandmother” Campaign. You see, due to the HIV/AIDS pandemic in that country, the parents of children are dying, and grandmothers are left to care for not only their own grandchildren, but sometimes the children of neighbors. It is a dire situation. Valerie’s video on her Facebook page explains what is happening. The grandmothers are impoverished and sometimes very ill, but struggling to care for up to 20 children, in some cases.

This scan shows the design area only of a 10 1/2 x 11 embroidered textile on a black background. The black borders (not shown) extend about an inch (unevenly) all around. As you can see, the colors are vibrant. The word “Rose” is present, but whether or not that is the name of the artist remains to be seen. Very few different types of stitches were employed in this work that relies heavily on chain stitch. It is a pleasure to think that the purchase of this work may help to feed some children.

She reports that Canadian grandmothers have responded well to this textile initiative to help. She can barely fill the demand there, let alone supply these wonderful embroideries to all who would like to help. Fifteen per cent of sales goes to the Stephen Lewis Foundation that (presumably) filters financial resources back to the South African communities.

If you want to purchase one of these pieces from Valerie, keep in mind that her prices are listed in Canadian currency. You can adjust Paypal payments to pay the seller, in any other currency. If you “Google” Valerie’s name, you will see that she runs a yahoo group about Landscape Quilts. She is one busy lady, and I am so happy to have made her acquaintance, online.

Patricia Cummings
Quilter’s Muse Publications

Finding the pot o’ gold at the end of the rainbow is a childhood fantasy as well as a favorite image associated with Irishmen. The Irish would be the first to tell you that the pot o’ gold does not exist. During the potato famine, the starving Irish came to America, through the ports of Boston, and fanned out all over New England, seeking work and a better life than what they left behind, toiling by the sweat of their brow.

At the same time that they were working hard, they were also struggling for better working conditions in the mills and later, fighting with the French-Canadians immigrants who would work for any amount of pay, and under any conditions. The Irish were fighters, and Union organizers.

Of course, folk songs commemorate the work the Irish on the railroad. One verse of the tune “Fili-mi-or-e-or-e-ay” recalls an Irish wife, Biddie McGee, who died: “If she left one kid, she left eleven … to work upon the railway!” Yes, they had lots of kids. Being both Irish and Catholic … you know the rest! The rule was to work hard until you die.

Every night, I make it a point to stop what I am doing and watch the evening news. I am beginning to view the news as air pollution. I’d be happier in “my own little world” of research and writing, than observing the … what is it now? … a proposed 9 trillion dollars in debt, if the budget passes. My friend who is a mathematician tells me that to reach that figure, I would have to write 9 million, then add zeroes to reach 9 billion, then add more zeroes. The number is so staggering, it is beyond my comprehension.

What is more alarming, is that hard work does not seem to matter any more. A friend gave 36 years to a company, only to be given a pink slip and a year’s pay. So long, too bad, you lose. No retirement pay. We have used you, taken your best years, and now we will leave you financially strapped. Good-bye.

I have to say that it is great being my own boss. While I make only “pen” (pin) money, what I do make ends up going to museums and quilt-related organizations, quilt magazines and books, and sometimes, fabrics. I’d have to say that I enjoy working at home. By that statement, I do mean working. Research and writing is very time-consuming!

A long time ago, I stopped worrying about the future. I ask very little of life. I don’t travel or wear fancy clothes. We do without things that others feel they need, like a camp, a vacation, or a second car. However, I feel that I have my priorities right where I like them. I have TIME. TIME is LIFE itself! Money is not the be all, and end all, for me. I don’t need to be Mrs. Rich B…., or Mrs. Ratrace, in the cemetery.

Yet, we all dream of being a little more affluent. People continue to buy lottery tickets on the chance that they will “hit it big.” In all the years we have played, we only won a free ticket, once. However, one has to keep dreams alive and it is okay to hope.

The country’s situation reminds me of a smiling wife who hides or throws away all the bills and pretends that everything is fine. Suddenly, the husband realizes that the car is being repossessed, creditors are calling, and the house is being foreclosed. In other words, he is swamped, and he never saw it coming. I don’t understand how our country got into such a mess, seemingly overnight. Who was hiding the problem? Or, was everyone totally unaware that it existed? It’s like the Elephant in the Room!

The economy will either get better, or we will all drown, due to the greed of a few. In hard times, people who are self-sufficient always seem to get along better. That was true in the Great Depression. Most farmers didn’t notice it much because the hens were still laying, the corn was still growing, and the pig could still be butchered for bacon and ham. Today, we are a more co-dependent society, and what happens to one of our own, happens to us all.

I feel the pain of those without jobs, I sense the anguish of the newly-homeless who are in that position, not due to their own laziness, but by circumstances beyond their control. I worry about the senior citizens who have to choose between taking medicine or buying groceries. I think about young people whose parents can no longer pay for their higher education. To the people who caused this set of circumstances, I will say that I am also concerned about the unborn.

In the words of Bob Dylan, “For threatening my baby, unborn and unnamed, you ain’t worth the blood that runs in your veins.”

Patricia Cummings
Quilter’s Muse Publications