Note Cards or Greeting Cards?

Which do you prefer?

I’m doing a little market research here. Let’s say there was an incredibly beautiful quilt, or part thereof, that was just begging to become a small piece of mail.

If you were going to purchase such a card, possibly in a set of 12, and in an attractive package, would you want them BLANK to write your own personal message, or would you like them to already come with a message? And what would that message be?!

To review:
Option #1: BLANK
Option #2: WITH GREETING
     a) Happy Birthday
     b) Thinking of you
     c) Get well
     d) Condolence
     e) Quilt related (give example)

Now’s your chance to change the world, or at least make your opinion known about greeting/note cards with pictures of quilts on them. Write a comment!

Thanks!
Ami :)

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Redneck Tape Measure

My friend and fellow quilting instructor Kathy Kansier showed me her “Redneck Tape Measure” when we recently taught at the same quilting conference this summer.

Apologies to Jeff Foxworthy.

She takes a few inches of 1/4″-wide masking tape and wraps it around the thumb of her dominant hand.  Instant measuring tool and literally stuck to you so you can’t misplace it.

As you pick up a piece of fabric to confirm a 1/4″ seam allowance you no longer have to hunt for a ruler or measuring tape. Just line it up with your thumb!

Is this not the slickest trick!? Just pinch and go!

Kathy Kansier is a quilting instructor from Ozark, Missouri.

Thanks, Kathy!

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My Favorite Adjective is a Town!

Sue R. from Novi, Michigan sent me two photographs from her travels through Ireland last year.  Imagine that!

If you live visit or live in a “quilty’ town, or one that conjures up images of patchwork, sewing, or other stitchy pursuits, send me a photo and I’ll add it to the blog. No “PhotoDhopping” allowed. Only pictures YOU take. ONE image per email. This offer is good until I get overwhelmed and need to move on to other things.

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Short Name Has Perks

In June I taught for Maine Quilts. I had a great time, met some terrific people, and bought a commemorative sweatshirt. It said MAINE QUILTS. Loved the graphic, good color, nice hand, and it fit. Plus, it was downright reasonable, which I took as a sign that I should own it. I love it when shopping decisions are so easy.

Alas, living in Michigan, I felt a little guilty wearing a shirt from another state. Michigan has had some hard times, and I didn’t feel that wearing my Maine shirt was as supportive as I could be.  Actually, I wasn’t wearing it at all because, unlike Maine, August in Michigan is not the time of year for wearing sweatshirts. So on the shelf it sat.

It was then that I noticed that the letters spelling MAINE were not embroidered onto the shirt like the word QUILTS, but rather, they were sewn on with a straight stitch. If you’re not following me, let me explain: that made the letters removable!

And why would I want to do that? Oh, players of word games, follow me now! The three letters that are my name (A-M-I) are actually contained in the name of the great state of M-A-I-N-E.  They’re just out of order!

I can operate a seam ripper and I know how to sew! Problem solved. I shall not promote a foreign state, I shall promote ME, actually AMI (they rhyme).

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The Farmers’ Market

Last week we re-discovered the Flint Farmers’ Market. What a blast!

It was a beautiful late summer day, the sun was out, and the parking lot was FULL!

I bought tomatoes for some authentic Italian bruschetta:  diced tomatoes, 5 cloves of garlic, salt, fresh basil, olive oil all dumped on  a hot-out-of-the-oven pizza dough. Not that I cook any more, but I just had a taste for it.  (We ate the entire thing in one sitting.)

We also picked up an avocado, and three pounds of fresh strawberries for $5. The perfume of all those ripe strawberries on the way home was almost more than I could stand, but I did wait until we got home to dive in.

I had a juicy peach every morning for breakfast all week, leaning over the sink, so the juice wouldn’t run down my arm. The “Peach Lady” picked them in various stages of ripeness for me. Small ones right away, large ones later. That’s taking care of your customers.

I haven’t had great ribs since the PX Bar-B-Q closed. Ribs used to be a New Year’s Eve tradition, and about the only time we ever ate ribs. I don’t know how that tradition got started, but half the city of Flint was at the PX picking up take-out orders on New Year’s Eve. My nose led me to the best ribs I’ve had in a decade with just the right mixture of sweet and tang. My mouth is watering again. Thank goodness they do chicken too.

I think I’m up for a repeat visit. See you later…

PS: Flint’s Farmers Market was just named “most loved” in national online contest. Way to go, Flint!

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Great Plates!

Readers of my last blog post have started sharing their “quilty” license plates. Hope you enjoy the selection.  They certainly are colorful and creative. (Please don’t email me any more, I’ve got to move on to other things!)

Enjoy!

 

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Quilty License Plates

Way back when Jennie was a toddler (she’s now almost 26) I saw the first vanity license plate that made any sense to me. It simply said QUILTS.  I got it. And I wanted one. Badly. I wanted the one that said QUILTS and belonged to the lady I almost rear-ended as I appreciated her license plate, first from afar, and then from dangerously up close. But, I was willing to settle for something close as waiting for her to die probably wasnt’ necessary.

I let my desires be known, casually mentioning it to Steve.  Once. That is the Simms way, something I still don’t fully understand. If he wants me to get the hint, I need significantly more repetitions, preferably in writing, with a calendar so that I remember when holiday gift giving occurs. It always sneaks up on me.

As usual, I forgot about the vanity plate until late in October. I thought I should have had a quilt-appropriate word above my bumbper by then, so I took it upon myself to dial up the department of motor vehicles. (The lady with QUILTS was still alive.) After much thought I settled on  QUILT. My message to anybody driving behind me, or in front of me (at that time plates in the front were required too), would be to go forth and …. QUILT! I love to boss people around. I asked if QUILT was available.

The lady at the DMV said QUILT was taken. I was crestfallen. “Are you sure,” I whined?

“Yes,” she said. “Someone in Genesee County has it.”

“No WAY!” said I. “I drive all over Genesee Country and I’ve never seen a car with a QUILT plate.”

“WAY!” she said.

“Can you tell me who it is?” I begged.

She said, “No, that’s against the rules. All I can tell you is it’s registered to some guy in Flint.”

That did it! Somebody in Flint driving around with MY plate on HIS rear end? I think not. I knew all the male quilters in Flint. And it wasn’t any of them. The nerve of people I don’t know absconding with MY plate.

I consoled myself with trips to every fabric shop in Genesee Country. I checked the parking lots just to hunt down the owner of my plate, but mostly I bought fabric and felt better.

Several weeks later, when my birthday rolled around and it was time to get legal with the state again, Steve presented me with my very own vanity license plates! He was the guy in Flint!  And I have been driving around telling everyone behind me to QUILT for at least two decades now.  And we’ve been paying exorbitant amounts of money annually for the privilege. But to not do so would be like giving back the sweetest birthday present ever. No way! 

Do you have a quilty license plate? Want to share? Email me a photo of your quilted license plate by the end of August. (AmiSimms@aol.com) Let’s see how creative you are. Email ONE photo, so make it a good one. Shoot it straight on.  I’ll crop out the background, size it, put it in an attractive collage and post it here on the blog. No fair shooting pictures of cars not belonging to you, I don’t care how great the plate. Quilty plates only. Tell your friends…

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Panty Party Is Sincerest Form of Flattery

Friends and fellow members of the Mountain Laurel Quilt Guild in Wellsboro, PA were inspired by the Yo-Yo Sisterhood of the Traveling Panties and did their own dye job. When I questioned their relative cleanliness in the photo I was assured by ganggroup leader Peggi Yacovissi that they wore a considerable amount of dye on their hands, arms, and toes during the event but they removed the plastic gloves and washed well before being photographed for posterity. The red and purple on their arms is hidden by their “panty pose”
.

Left to right they are Rita Pyatt, Susan McConnell, Anya Tyson, Nancy Cooledge, and Mary Fahsbender. Peggi is hiding behind the camera.

Well done, ladies!

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Airline Security: I’ve Got A Plan, Game Show!

I hear a lot of complaints about the TSA checkpoints at airports, but I figure they must know more than I do about what is a terrorist threat and what isn’t, so I give them the benefit of the doubt. I fly a lot, and while it’s an annoyance to reconfigure my carry-on and my clothing to pass through security with the least amount of hassle, I’m happy to do it. I figure they’ve got my back.

Besides, I have a plan. And I’m harmless.

Before I get to “security” I take my phone out of my pocket and put it in my purse. My belt comes off and goes in there too. Ditto with a scarf and any lightweight clothing (fleece, sweater, etc.)  I might happen to have on because by time you get to the metal detector you’re only allowed to wear stuff they can’t ask you to take off in public.

Removing as much as you can before you ever get to “the line” is a stress reducer. I locate my plastic bag and throw in my lipstick, the one thing I carry on that qualifies as a liquid or gel. (Actually, I’ve heard lipstick doesn’t count as anything potentially dangerous any more, so I suppose I could actually leave that in my purse. But I am NOT tempting fate for a tube of Cherry Blush that I’ve been toting around for 18 months past the time they stopped making that shade. Talk about irreplaceable!)

Boarding pass and driver’s license in hand,  I approach the podium. Smile. This has to be the worst job in all of Screenerdom. Talk about boring. The only perk is a chair, and the nifty light they get to shine on your license. Fifty per cent of the person’s job is redundant. They have to check the boarding pass against the driver’s license and  then somebody else farther down the line has to check the boarding pass AGAIN.

Immediately after the podium, my drivers license and my boarding pass go in my back pocket. I’ve accidentally sent the boarding pass through on the conveyor belt far too many times to make that mistake again. Just so you know, this really gums up the works because they can’t let you pass through the metal detector without a boarding pass. And you cant’ retrieve the boarding pass yourself because it’s already on the “other side.”  Somebody has to get it for you and for that to happen you need to communicate its location in a loud voice the screener 25 feet away while everybody is listening to how stupid you are because you can’t quite remember where exactly you put it.

So tuck it in your pants pocket. Handy, but not in your hands, as you’ll need those for other things. Here are my other tips:

Know Your Bin Requirements
I’m a 3 for most seasons and a 4 during the winter. I need one for my laptop, one for my digital projector, and finally one for my shoes, lipstick, and light jacket. If I have to wear a coat, it covers the shoes/plastic lipstick bag, and that’s not permissible, so I up my bin usage by one. In some places that want to look at digital cameras and camcorders, add another bin.

Define Your Goals
As I see it you’ve got three major goals and don’t get your heart set on achieving all three.
1. The least amount of time spent in your stocking feet walking on a surface that has already seen a billion toes (socked and barefooted) before your tootsies ever came out of your shoes.
2. The fastest re-assembly of your personal possessions into the jig saw puzzle that is your luggage.
3. The security of your high value items strewn amongst total strangers from one end of the security line to the other while you are otherwise distracted. I have seen people mistake someone else’s laptop for theirs, that’s why I put that lovely scratch on mine by dropping it against a cement wall. (Stickers with your name on it work too.)

Personally, while the floor thing really creeps me out, I concentrate on the fastest re-assembly which actually minimizes “floor time” and decreases the time my valuables are up for grabs.

Establish the Order of Extraction
I’ve got a rollerbag, a large computer bag/purse that sits on top of it. And, I’ve got 5 things to locate, remove, and throw in my bins while the line and me are moving. This means I have to roll my bag as I dig around for things and remove them while pushing my 3 bins along, cafeteria style. Here’s my preferred order of extraction:  coat, lipstick, laptop, projector, and finally shoes.

Establish Bin Order
Here’s where my plan shines. Remember that the first IN the x-ray machine is the first OUT. Also remember that the longer your stuff stays in the bins on the other side the greater the chance that they could fall off the conveyor belt, the more real estate you have to control, and the more other passengers hate you for taking so much time to put all your stuff away. Bin order trumps all. And remember, bin order has nothing to do with order of extraction. Here’s how I do it:
Step #1: Coat and lipstick in 1st bin.
Step #2: Projector and laptop in the next two bins.
Step #3: Remove purse from top of rollerbag and SEND THE ROLLER BAG THROUGH FIRST! This really pays off at the other end as I have something to set my purse/computer bag on to re-assemble.
Step #4: Purse goes next. Just hold back the bins and ignore the eye-rolling of the other passengers.
Step #5: Whip off your shoes at the very last minute and throw them in the first bin with the lipstick and coat and send those puppies through.
Step #6: While standing on your tiptoes, try to either place your stocking feet somewhere nobody else has ever thought of standing or dance around as if  the floor were hot coals while you push through the last two bins (laptop and projector).
Step #7: Grab your boarding pass from your back pocket and, when permission is given, smile and boogie through the metal detector.

On the Other Side
Heave the rollerbag off the conveyor belt and throw it on ground. Jam the purse on top. Grab your shoes and try not to think of where your feet have been as you wedge your feet back into them and put your jacket back on. Throw the lipstick anywhere in the purse; you’ll find it later. Snag the laptop and projector and cram those into your purse and roll your way out of security to find your phone and belt. With practice the entire process can resemble a ballet, or controlled chaos.

This picture was taken at the Milwaukee airport by Norma B. of West Bend, WI who carries a camera and knows how to use it! (Well done, Norma!)

BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!
Here’s the really cool part. Would this not make the best reality/game show? Contestants compete in teams, with each player going through security with a different set of liabilities, selected at random from common categories: Clothing, Electronics, Luggage,  Questionable Materials, and a Wild Card.

OK, so let’s say the first contestant has to wear a wet suit and carry a camcorder, backpack, insulin supplies, and a screaming baby. Pitted against them is the second contestant wearing a hooded down parka and snow shoes, carrying a CB radio, steamer trunk, breast milk, and crutches. And so it goes. Each foray through security is timed. The team with the best all-around time actually gets to fly to some cool vacation spot.

Or, this could be played like the “reality” talent shows that spans an entire television season with the same contestants each week receiving increasingly more difficult challenges to carry through security while celebrity judges eliminate the less organized at the end of each show. Taping would take place in a different airport each week  to take advantage of the quaint regional rule interpretations.  Losers have to walk home. The Bonus Round could be played in another country where the security people don’t speak English!

Remember, you heard it here first.

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PS: Just ordered a TSA-freindly bag. Now my laptop can stay in the bag during screening. That’s one less bin!  Plus it’s on sale and then I used a coupon code for 50% off of the sale price! Hurry! Offer ends Friday (7-17-09) at midnight. For details, see my “other” blog: Find A Quilt Teacher

Hotel Feebies Too Confusing

I haven’t purchased shampoo or soap in 20 years! I use the little bottles and bars in the hotels where I stay on teaching trips and bring home the leftovers. I decant the shampoo into my personal shampoo bottle at home and mold the slightly used bars onto whatever is currently in the shower soap dish. (This is how I am able to afford my extravagant lifestyle.)

Recently one particular hotel chain has gotten cute, no doubt some idiotic marketing ploy. Instead of calling the shampoo, ah… SHAMPOO, they call it something else. That was my problem. I couldn’t figure out what they called it.

I thought I’d be OK when I identified the soap. The label said “cleanse.” It was obviously soap. The bar shape gave it away and I could see through the wrapper. I threw the soap in the shower and turned on the water. OK, we’re on a roll.

The three things in the back of the plastic “SimplySmart” display I figured out by process of elimination:  COVER, MEND, and SHINE. SHINE must be for shoes. MEND is a foreign concept, but I could feel a needle and some thread inside so that must be for piecing or applique if the TSA agents confiscate your sewing kit at the airport.  COVER is a shower cap.  (Hint: wash your hair and save the clear plastic shower cap to cover leftovers from dinner after you get home. You can see through it and the elastic around the edge keeps the food from falling off the plate in the refrigerator.)

So far, so good.  Standing on the top shelf of the newly christened “SimplyStupid” display were four bottles containing liquid, one of which was surely SHAMPOO. Here the labels were of no use whatever  SCRUB, WASH, TAME, and SOFTEN.

SOFTEN had to be hand cream. Excuse me, lotion. La-dee-dah. One down; three to go. Mind you, I’m standing in the bathroom bare naked (except for my glasses) wanting desperately to just get in the shower and move forward with my day, but I don’t know which one is the shampoo.  I don’t know what the heck TAME is supposed to be.  Cream rinse? Also known as “conditioner?” Could be… I don’t use that, so its out of the equation.

I’m down to two:  SCRUB and WASH. Interchangeable.  Who is the moron who thought this up?! What was left? Shampoo and what, body wash? Or something else? Mouthwash? Do I WASH my hair and SCRUB my body? Or am I supposed to  SCRUB my hair and WASH my body?! Guess it depends which is dirtier? I don’t know; is this a trick question?!

In desperation I rooted through my cosmetic case and found an old, nearly dead bottle of SHAMPOO and I used it. Thank goodness I did.

The aroma infused CLEANSE (soap) smelled so strongly of cinnamon that had I used the matching scented SHAMPOO and/or BODY WASH / MOUTHWASH / EYEGLASS CLEANER I would have smelled like a Cinnabon all day long.

Note to hoteliers: Can we get back to basics? PLEASE? SOAP, SHAMPOO, CONDITIONER, LOTION work just fine. And make the letters big and black. So I can read them without my glasses on. And a reference point for the visually challenged behind the curtain would be a great idea too. I get in there sans glasses and the white tub melts into the white walls which melts into the white shower curtain. I can’t see a thing. A person could kill themselves in your hotel. Can you paint the walls a different color maybe?

And while I’m at it, stop folding the ends of the toilet paper. It stopped being “classy” as soon as I realized somebody had to get their fingers all over the toilet paper to get it that way. Major ick.

Thank you!

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