Thursday, February 28, 2008

Another quilt finished. . .finally!

This is my Louisiana Tech Quilt. (That's where we went to college.) I started on this summer 2006, and I'm glad that it is finally done. It probably has more individual pieces of fabric than the other quilts I've made, and it turned out to be larger that I'd planned. My calculations were off when I made the pattern. Off by the square root of 2 to be exact. I knew I wanted to have the squares set on point, but I forgot that the diagonal of a square is longer than the sides of a square. -My math loving husband doesn't know what to do with me when I do things like this - if it was any one else, he'd laugh, but he knows that it is not nice to laugh at his wife like that. Maybe he does with his "math"friends. This is where a basic understanding of geometry is practical, kids. I had wanted this just to be a throw size quilt - 60in by 40 in or so, but it's more like 90 x 70 - maybe big enough for a twin size bed. FYI for those of you who don't know - Tech's mascot is a bulldog.
The back of the quilt. I found this fabric online, but it's been so long I don't remember where. Most of the fabric that I used for the front was left overs from other projects.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Word of the day

electioneering

noun
1. persuasion of voters in a political campaign
2. the campaign of a candidate to be elected [syn: campaigning]

We went to vote for the presidential primary today. There were signs up that said "No electioneering beyond this point." I have seen those kinds of sings up before at polling places, but they had said "campaigning" instead of electioneering.

Also on the ballot was whether or not we want a new casino in town. I'm more interested in that outcome than I am the primary right now. I really don't want the casino here, and I'm not impressed much with any of the candidates left in the race.

Friday, February 1, 2008

You know you're from South Louisiana if . . .

I got this in a email, and I thought it was funny. Some of this certainly could apply to other states, but some is uniquely Louisiana. There are somethings I've come to love about this state during the almost six non-consecutive years I've lived here. You can't beat the food here for sure - and you can't start summer without a good crawfish boil. I still don't like the weather- too hot, too humid, an almost non-existent winter, and hurricanes. I miss the landscape of Arkansas sometimes. But read on, the items in italics are my writing.

You can properly pronounce Lafayette, Bossier, Natchitoches, Opelousas, Shongaloo, Pontchartrain, Ouachita, and you know that New Orleans doesn't have a long "e" sound anywhere in it.

You think people who complain about the heat in their states are sissies. (Unless you've lived in Miami or a rainforest, you do not know what humidity is.)

A tornado-warning siren is your signal to go out in the yard and look for a funnel.

You know that the true value of a parking space is not determined by the distance to door but by the availability of shade.

You cringe every time you hear an actor with a Southern or Cajun accent in a "New Orleans-based" movie or TV show.

You measure distance in minutes.

You listen to the weather forecast before picking out an outfit.

Someone you know has used a football schedule to plan their wedding date.

You aren't surprised to find movie rental, ammunition, beer, and bait all in the same store.

A Mercedes Benz isn't a status symbol. A Chevy Silverado Extended Bed Crew Cab Truck is.

You know everything goes better with Tony's or Tabasco.

You actually get these jokes.

You are 100% Louisianan if you have ever had this conversation:

"You wanna coke?"
"Yeah."
"What kind?"
"Dr Pepper."

You have ever had to switch from heat to AC in the same day. (This happens several times a year)

You use "fix" as a verb. Example: "I am fixing to go to the store."

You know all four seasons: Almost summer, summer, still summer, and Christmas.

You know whether another Louisianian is from New Orleans, North Louisiana, or South Louisiana as soon as they open their mouth. (I've gotten pretty good at picking this out)

You describe the first cool snap (below 70 degrees) as good gumbo weather. (True.)

Fried catfish is the other white meat.

You reinforce your attic to store Mardi Gras beads.

Your sunglasses fog up when you step outside.

Your ancestors are buried above the ground.

You take a bite of five-alarm chili and still reach for the Tabasco.

You sit down to eat boiled crawfish and your host says, "Don't eat the dead ones," and you know what he means.

You don't learn until high school that Mardi Gras is not a national holiday.

You push little old ladies out of the way to catch Mardi Gras beads.

Little old ladies push YOU out of the way to catch Mardi Gras beads.

You leave a parade with footprints on your hands.

You believe that purple, green, and gold look good together.

Your last name isn't pronounced the way it's spelled.

You know what a nutria is but you still pick it to represent your baseball team.

No matter where else you go in the world, you are always disappointed in the food.

Your town is low on the education chart, high on the obesity chart and you don't care because you're No. 1 on the party chart.

You know that Tchoupitoulas is a street and not a disease.

Your grandparents are called "Maw-Maw" and "Paw-Paw."

Your Santa Claus rides an alligator and your favorite Saint is a football player.

You have to reset your clocks after every thunderstorm.

When it starts to rain, you cover your beer instead of your head.

You eat dinner out and spend the entire meal talking about all the other good places you've eaten.

You know what it means for food to come 'dressed'...

You save newspapers, not for recycling but for tablecloths at crawfish boils.

Drive-thru daquiris -- it's not drinking and driving until you put the straw in.