'Twas the week before Christmas
...and all thru the house
not a creature was stiring
...except for that mouse (plus her friends & neighbors)
they'd gathered to sew
...whilst mom & grandma were napping
there were still a few more toys to stitch
...shawls & ponchos to knit
quilted stockings to finish
...and more yet still!

taking a break from crocheting flower hats for American Girls dolls ..finally decided on the backing for one of the four doll quilts in the making ...and wandere in here to see what everyone's doing today. but it's sooooo quiet here in our My Quilt Place Playground, that the the venerable old Night Before Christmas poem has started reciting in my head ...so i thought i'd try a version for here ...hope all your plans & projects are turning out well, heading for completion. remember ..the best part is yet to come! hearing or seeing the joy of the recipients at what you've wrought ..just for them ..special

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Well said,Rogue.Yes , seems  everyone's so involved in their projects this season, and l'm glad...the trend seems to be getting back to gifts made with love by hand. I've always believed those are the best ones ( even though ,at times, it ca cost more to make something than to just purchase a knock-off). Grandads making rocking horses, dads planning the itinerary for a special trip, mom baking favorite treats, and aunties & grandmas knitting & quilting are a reflection of a family's love for one another, ( no one spends hours making something for someone they don't like). So enjoy your time making your love-filled gifts..people need to feel someone cares.

thanks riana ...i've been making my gifts for decades ..either from my kitchen or my craft/sewing hobbies. it's such a delight to see the happiness brought by the goodies gramma ham makes for her grand treasures!
i baked 22 loaves of quickbread for my husband to give friends, coworkers, and staff at his schol. also made more than 3 dozen warmhearts, most of which were bought by one of my daughter and her husband to give as gifts to their coworkers. i also gave several as gifts. and, a couple of my daughter's coworkers bought some to give as gifts.
you are such a blessing to those around you! i don't even know that many people anymore ..i used to live in places where my son & i delivered trays of home baked goods to teachers and all our neighbors. but here we're so isolated and ..well ..other than occasional baking for my quilt group ..not much cookin' to be shared w others these days. but ..we won't be here forever ..so i'm not tossing the loaf pans, cookie sheets etc yet! :))

i love baking, especially at the holidays. used to make dozens and dozens of cookies. now it is mostly the breads and brownies. occasional pies.

What are warmhearts, Suzann?

cotton fabric heart shapes filled with white rice. they are about 8"x8". heat them in microwave. use on sore muscles, warm up the bed, for cramps, etc. i make mine 2 layers thick, sew a seam 3/4" in, fill with rice, close hole, then clip free edge to make fringe all the way around. very popular with my friends and family ... and now with their friends and families. ~~~hahaha~~~

oh, so you don't turn them inside out but sew w/wrong sides together...sounds like a good idea :-)

makes it simpler to put together. and, gives them a lovely homemade, primitive look. i also think they are more comfortable to use without the harder seam line from turning.

The Night Before Christmas ... Texas Style


Suzann Darnall

'Twas Christmas Eve in Texas, when all 'cross th' ranch, Not one critter was stirrin', not even a branch;

Th' boot-socks were hung from barbed wire with care, In hopes that th' tops this year would not tear;

Th' kids were all tucked up like cows in a shed, While dreamin' of baked goods like cookies and bread;

Mom hung up her Stetson by my worn Resistol, Took off boots, jeans and belts then in bed we did fall,

When out by th' barn there was all sorts of clangin' We jumped up right quick to see what was a bangin'.

Grabbed up our rifles and dressed quick like hustlers, Grabbed ammo 'n' shotguns case it was rustlers.

Moon glow on tin roof shined by sand blowin' hard Gave enough light for seein' and showed th' farmyard,

We 'uns concluded we was a seein' thangs Like, an old worn-out stagecoach pulled by eight green-broke mustangs,

With a great big ol' driver, who held a tight rein, we sure knew right quickly it must be John Wayne.

Much faster than bullets his horses sure came, Still he whistled, and shouted, and yelled out each name:

"Now Pitchfork! now Pickup! now, Chisum and Dallas! On, Haybale! on, Hairball! on, Lonestar and Texas!

Right over th' leech field! and on past th' well pump Now gee-up and yee-haw, git ready to jump!"

Like tumbleweeds scurry when tornadoes whirl by, When they just go and head skyward, up they sure fly.

Yep, up to th' rooftop them horses strivin', with that stage full of toys, and th' Duke a drivin'

In just a short moment we heard on th' roof Th' stomping and stamping of each unshod hoof.

As we threw on our hats, and were heading downstairs, John Wayne kicked in the front door which fell on two chairs.

Was dressed like a sheriff, from his hat to his boots, And his clothes were all showin' deep-down western roots;

Saddle bag of toys he had flung 'cross his back, and small things stuffed in pockets too much for his pack.

His eyes how they squinted! his pistol how gleamin'! His badge was all shiny, his neck scarf tied streamin'!

His shirt unbuttoned, with th' flap hanging down And th' jut of his chin was as fierce as his frown;

His rifle he held onto tight in his hand, 'Til he got a good feel for the lay of the land;

He had broad shoulders which carried quite a load in And shook when he laughed as his face creased with a grin.

He was handsome and tall, a legend come to life, And we sure liked what we saw both me 'n' th' wife.

Him winkin' at Mom and a noddin' his head Made us glad we did not get Santa instead.

He drawled a few words, but he mostly just worked, Filled boot-socks with oranges and meat, spicy-jerked,

And waving his hand in gesture well known, Crashed through a window just as if he was thrown;

He sprang to his coach, toward his team the whip cracked, Away they all galloped as if some injuns attacked.

But we all heard him shout, as he started to go, "Howdy, Pardner, all y'all, saddle up, wagons ho!"

yaaayyy!! KUDOS to you on such a great poem ..and having spent many many happy hours as a wild teen flying along on the back of a green broke mustang named Little Red ..i now have a great mental image of john wayne wrastlin' his rowdy raindeer! lollol

...come on ..any more care to join the Night Before writing fest?

we actually have Mustangs! a black mare named Cheyenne and a perlino gelding named Carousel. perlino is creamy white with pale gold mane and tail, and blue eyes. he looks like every little girl's dream of the perfect merry-go-round pony, until she started graying a bit around her facem my mare was solid black, except for where some scars turned white. she is about 23 yrs old and he is a little more than 21 years old.


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