Sunday, March 8, 2015

What a great place to be on top of a mountain in the gloomy gray days of March

The end of the first week in March usually brings to this blog a report on our quilting retreat at Grand Oak in Scottsboro, Ala.  This year and last, we managed to leave a day early and outrun a winter storm. We will do unusual things to get to this mountain-top retreat once a year for a week of sewing, learning, eating, napping, talking, and giggling.




This year we had three new quilters—new to the group—so I hope we didn't scare them off with our silliness.  One lady woke in the night and asked her roommate to tell her what time it was.  "Three dollars and 45 cents," replied the roommate.  So for the rest of the week we told time in dollars.  You had to be there.

Quilt retreats have grown in popularity over the past few weeks.  Some offer the facility but guests provide their own meals.  Some, like Grand Oak, offer the facility, three prepared meals a day plus snacks.

We learn by watching.  We are inspired by watching.

On one particularly rain, cold day, the Grand Oak aging Golden Retriever, Buddy, came down to spend the afternoon.

Below Left, one of our buddies proves that it is ok to quilt all day in your p.j.s.  It's so fun.

We also had a demonstration on the Stack 'n Whack method by Cindy Allgood.  We came up with some unusual blocks, but could see this as a beautiful quilting option.


We all heard reports of snow and ice and school closing back home, but since our hairpin-curve driveway was clear we left Friday morning on schedule.  All was fine until we hit Huntsville.  All ramps and overpasses were blocked.  After riding around in many circles we found a nice Alabama trooper who got us on the highway by avoiding the ramps.



The bridge at Decatur was dicey, but my traveling companion did a great job driving on ice.  Well, until next March. May we have no snow.   Gotta go. It's almost seven dollars.




Monday, March 2, 2015

Path to the top of the hill

Riding on the mule with Howard on land that has come to me through my daddy Hayley Dandridge, from his father Cathey Spottswood Dandridge, from his mother Mary Eliza Cathey Dandridge and purchased by her father Matthew Lafon Cathey. I'm so fortunate to live on and care for this for my short life before it changes hands again. If you stand really still maybe you'll hear the Catheys sending their mules into the gullies to hide during the Civil War.