Highways and Byways

Highways and Byways

Highways and byways
Old and new
Some less traveled
Some with a view

From old familiar places
Up hill and down
To wide open spaces
And around town

Thru hot sandy deserts
Or cold mountain snow
Some are fast
And some are slow

From border to border
And between coastal shores
Lie many old favorites
To visit once more

No matter how varied
From beginning to end
Highway signs show where you are
And where you have been.


Marion Bigelow December 2011

So How Does YOUR Garden Grow?

KimB

The weather here in Central California has been cold recently. We've had almost no rain so it's a good thing I opted to put in a drip system for the container garden. Mostly I've been able to ignore the garden. Didn't seem to be much going on. The all plants sprouted and so did the potatoes. The current freeze at nights has wilted some leaves but there's little I can do about that. I figured, "Oh well, something might survive."   Little did I know....

So, as I was planning on what to have for our New Year's Dinner I took a stroll out to look in the pots. All seemed as it did before except the carrot tops looked just a bit taller. So I rooted around the pots and LOOK WHAT I FOUND!

KimB's Carrots and Turnips

The Recipe Box: Harvard Beets

Harvard Beets
From the recipe box of Esther

This recipe is the one that Mom used to fix beets and that I liked so well. It was a favorite of every one I think.

When I think of the big gardens we use to have when we lived on the acerage and the cost of buying veggies today, it reminds me of how far we have come from the good old days. Life was much more simple then but look how much the new gadgets have saved us from the hard labor---like the old scrub board!!!

Harvard Beets

1/2 cup sugar
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup vinegar
1/4 cup beet liquid
2 1/2 cups cooked beets, cubed or sliced (I use canned beets)
1 tablespoon butter

1. Combine sugar, cornstarch, and salt in a one quart sauce pan.
2. Add vinegar. stir untill smooth. Add beet liquid.
3. Cook over medium heat, stirring till liquid just begins to thicken.
4. Add cube or sliced beets and cook for four more minutes
   or till beets are hot.
5. Add butter.

Harvard Beets

Snowfall by KimB

Snowfall

It glints and glimmers,
Shakes and sways,
Like gossamer falls on towns and ways.

It gifts us lakes,
Creeks and swamps,
It flows like air o'r base and top.

We feel the burn,
And the bite,
By the day and across the night.

From below,
And from the heights,
It drapes the land: white on white.

It comes, then goes,
And leads the heat,
Changing form with every beat.


KimB 2010

Tribal Travels, Musings, and Jawbone Canyon Chapter 10 - Epilogue by R. Cane

I hope these reminiscences have offered a pleasant glimpse into our tribe's wonderful travels back in the good ol' days. These and other travels with the family brought me to the early conclusion that 'Travel', per se, was the very best educator - for those receptive to the wonders of new horizons.

Sadly, I was never able to actually get to Jawbone Canyon (yep… vetoed for 'another time and trip' by Grams, The Decider), however I hear it's become quite a popular get-away place, and worth the effort to get there. So... now we have come full circle - to the part where I finally have a dog in the game! It's my turn to offer suggestions for the best roads to get you there... pay attention here, and don't miss the connections.... To get there, AND make the best time (most important of course) take...

… I-10 to 395 and take a right before 6 (approx. 100m) there's a good stretch where you can do 70...watch for the turn off at the home made motorcycle sign (where the old gas station used to be) continue until you find paradise – about 100m at 60mph – ( voice fades out here still rattling off numbers)...

Well… y'all get the idea by now… Do send a postcard if you ever make it there – I have heard there might be some good jawbones to be found by those with keen eyes… and good hearts!

It has been nice going back to these dear memories, and fun sharing my musings about a most wonderful and carefree time in my life.

Happy Travels!

[Editor's note: This story was written by R. Cane and is the last of a 10 story series.]

Jawbone Canyon Sign

Golden Leaves

Golden Leaves

A cluster of golden leaves
among the green
Hangs like a star amid
the leafy sheen
Kissed by winter,
yet to come,
Signals Autumn's
Farewell song
Of brilliant colors,
bright and strong,
To greet the Winter's
Chilly snow
That blankets all,
While cold winds blow,
'til Spring time's warm
And sunny light
Sprouts again, the green
Of Summer's life.

Marion Bigelow Nov 5, 2011

Happy Holidays!



Happy Holidays!

The Recipe Box: Mock Apple Pie

Mock Apple Pie

From the recipe box of A.Nonymous

One of my favorite pie recipes is the infamous 'Mock Apple Pie'.

No apples are in this dish, but because of the spices that are used, it seems similar to an apple pie. Historians date this pie to the early days of the American pioneers, when apples were in short supply. Crafty settler women stumbled into a recipe that embodied the spirit of an apple pie when the red, green and yellow orbs weren't available. Today, clever cooks follow their lead when their own pantries come up short.

It is made with saltine crackers, and the several times I've tried it, it is so amazing that you almost never 'get' that it does not have apples!!

Its a fun, budget desert, that will fool your friends. It's easy to make and surprisingly good. Here is this vintage pie recipe made with saltine crackers and apple pie spice seasonings.

Ingredients:

pastry for 2-crust 9-inch pie
1 sleeve saltine crackers
2 cups water
2 cups granulated sugar (or use your favorite sugar substitute equivalent)
2 teaspoons cream of tartar
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 teaspoon grated lemon peel
1 tablespoon butter
cinnamon

Preparation:

1. Line a 9-inch pie plate with rolled-out pastry. Break saltines coarsely into the pie shell.
2. Combine water, sugar, and cream of tartar in a saucepan; bring to a boil.
3. Simmer for 15 minutes.
4. Add lemon juice and peel; cool.
5. Pour the syrup over crackers.
6. Dot with butter and sprinkle generously with cinnamon.
7. Cover with top crust and flute edge.
8. Cut slits into top to allow steam to escape.
9. Bake in a 425° oven for 20 to 30 minutes, or until crust is golden brown and crisp.
10. Serve warm, with ice cream, if desired.

Mock Apple Pie

Theater: A Christmas Carol by Richard

Frances and I went to the theater to see the play, A Christmas Carol at the San Jose Repertory Theater (November 23 – December 24 2011).

Waiting to go in, the whole cast came out and sang several Christmas songs which was delightful. They finished with We Wish You a Merry Christmas walking into the theater waving us in for the play. The play was enjoyable and the cast was wonderful.

During the play my thoughts would carry me back in time to our home in Iowa at Christmas when we all decorated the tree with pop corn on those cold wintry days.

Wishing you and all a Merry Christmas and Happy, Healthy New Year.

[Editor's note: This story was written by Richard]

(l to r): Richard Farrell as Scrooge
Everett Meckler as Tiny Tim
in San Jose Rep’s A Christmas Carol.
Photo: San Jose Rep Staff Photographer

Tribal Travels, Musings, and Jawbone Canyon Chapter 9 by R. Cane

It was growing dusk, with a beautiful blossoming desert sunset. The roadsigns were getting harder to read... but ever eager to try and stir up a side trip, I was earnestly announcing up coming possibilities... with great hope that I might get a bite... "Look - just ten miles to the cave"... “Historical marker ONLY 2 miles? Wonder what it is!?” It wasn't long before I said... "Oh look, there's Jawbone Canyon - just 2 miles".

This seemed like good prospecting potential and there might be a temptation. At this point I need to point out that I was thinking in terms of fossils and rock hunting when I gave voice aloud with great earnestness … 'Gee... I wonder what's in Jawbone Canyon?"

Grandad mused over this a moment, then got that famous twinkle, slowly turned to me and replied dryly… "Jawbones!”

I busted out laughing, and soon we both were all in stitches, and in spite of trying to hold back, grandad was roaring with laughter too. In moments we were laughing so hard he had to pull over… We commenced a second round of laughing at this, and I loved it! This was one delightful exception to 'making time', because this was a 'GRAND time!!

I cherish this memory, and I am smiling as I write this. This particular story has made its' way into family folklore for any 'dumb' question... as in 'Are you asking 'What's in Jawbone Canyon'?'... our version of 'Who's in Grant's tomb?'. Asked and answered... at the expense of a good laugh at myself.

So... now y'all know the secret of why just the very mention of the name 'Jawbone Canyon'... brings a warm smile to some in our tribe!

[Editor's note: This story was written by R. Cane and is part of a 10 story series]

The Recipe Box: Rice Gruel

Rice Gruel

From the recipe box of KimB

Rice Gruel is also known as Rice Porridge or Congee is a type of rice soup often eaten for breakfast in Asia or when you have stomach flu or other gastrointestinal upset. I learned about this dish from my Chinese friends and after much skepticism gave it a try. It is now a staple for whenever my tummy feels “unhappy”.

The basics are simple: cook the rice in a large amount of water until it almost disintegrates. Options you can add are: fresh ginger, cilantro, chicken or anything that you think will “sit” if you are feeling ill.

The basic porridge will be very bland. I prefer to add salt after cooking to taste, especially if I am not feeling well. Later on, as I begin to feel better, I will add in other items.

Rice Gruel

Rice Gruel Cooking


6 cups water
1 cup rice

In a large pot bring the water to a boil.
Add the rice.
Bring back to a slow simmer and partially cover.
Cook for 2 to 4 hours.

Add more hot water if needed to keep the rice in a “thick soup” state.

Rice Gruel Porridge or Congee




The Road To Tucson - Part 2 of 2 by KimB

First time travelers in the desert learned really fast that you don't travel by day. After about 10 AM the heat becomes really noticeable and shortly there-after you'd wished you had stopped at that seedy little motor court you sneered at as you passed it by. And with no other hamlets within hours and hours, you learned and burned your way to the next wide-spot-in-the-road and headed to whatever accommodations you could get, no questions asked, and hoped for at least a swamp-cooler to temper the desert's wrath.

Evenings were for travel, and at sundown the roads would fill up with savvy travelers heading farther and farther into the the desert. The temperature of the desert would plummet as the sun faded away and driving would be enjoyable. You couldn't see much but at least you could be comfortable while heading to your destination.

Our car had a radio but out of the main cities there was no reception. The shot-gun-seat rider would often turn the knobs vainly looking for something to listen too, but generally, only static was found. We found our own entertainments, watching license plates, counting box cars in passing freight trains, animal-vegetable-mineral guessing games and other amusements.

But most often we sang songs for the long hours of driving the highway. We knew lots of them and we each took turns suggesting a song and then we would sing it – all three of us. We would sing the same song multiple times as we practiced to get it “just right” or “what was that phrase again?” or “remind me, how does that go?”. The longer the song the better – all 9,000 verses of Barbara Allen was a favorite. If we muffed a verse we started over “from the top” to get things in the proper order. Later on, my personal repertory of songs was large enough to entertain drivers for 3 days without repeating a one - unless requested of course.

My brother often wrote his own songs and we all enthusiastically helped sing them as we traveled the highway. Sometimes we had a collaboration: Mom, me and my brother would work out a song together; topics, phrases, melodies would be reviewed and best lines chosen and we would sing the resulting song for hours but many of these faded away with the sunrise. A few lasted and became staples along with the English muffins. We sang them each time we traveled the road and laughed about our adventures as we headed towards the horizon and Grandma's Cafe.

Grandma's Cafe
[to the tune of Botany Bay]

It's not leaving Los Angeles we care about,
Or driving the highway all day,
It's the blooming monotony that wears us out,
And the prospects of Grandma's Cafe.

[Editor's note: This story was written by KimB and is part 2 of a 2 part series.]

Tribal Travels, Musings, and Jawbone Canyon Chapter 8 by R. Cane

Gramps taught us all about the geology of Death Valley - the alluvial plains , the scarred canyons, the scorching salt flats, and was a walking encyclopedia of geological and mineral knowledge.

Grandad was a self taught prospector and knew all kinds of stuff about geology, and minerals. He had even found, and made some mineral claims near Death Valley that he had successfully sold. A genuine prospector!

The history of the earth was of great fascination to me... I had seen the La Brea Tar Pits often as a child - and I loved learning about ancient times ... Gramps knew all about it (claiming he'd been there for most of it - being older than dirt don'cha know) and loved to teach me about the history of the earth, it's geology and such.

In one of these lessons he explained that Death Valley, and most of the deserts, had been inland seas or oceans at various times. He would pique my interest further by sprinkling his answers with tidbits like .. ' there are many neat fossils to be found by someone with a keen eye walking and kicking up stones' - I was fascinated. Wow - an inland sea ... and now dry as a bone .. walking on the ocean floor as it were! He was able to fill us with the wonders of nature! This was how I became an avid 'rock-hound'.

Farther up one of those endless desert highways, I pondered out loud at the long sweeping power lines that we passed – those awe inspiring huge transmission lines and towers. The span between the towers was long, and the huge cables would sag pronouncedly. I was also quite curious why each cable had a huge orange ball in the center of the sag? After puzzling what they were, and why they were there... I said "Grandad... those orange balls on the wires? ... What are they for?" ... and Gramps thought for a moment - and then said ..with his famous twinkle .... "Why those are floats to keep the lines dry at high water!"... It took me a moment to realize he was having me on... and then we both laughed at the cleverness of the answer and gullibility of the questioner, and just as quickly he added they were big weights to keep the lines from swaying in high winds.

A bit of fun at my expense and then a straight answer. What a guy!

[Editor's note: This story was written by R. Cane and is part of a 10 story series]

Power Lines in the Desert

Bamboo Leaves

Bamboo Leaves

Black lace against a moonlit sky
Reversing patterns when the sun is high
This lovely leaf of fragile lines,
Named a friend of plum and pine,
Is strong in spirit light in touch.
An art of nature and painter's brush
Renowned in legends, myth and rhyme
Admired now as in ancient times.

Marion Bigelow November 9, 2011

Tribal Travels, Musings, and Jawbone Canyon Chapter 7 by R. Cane

We found ourselves ambling thru Death Valley - a favorite trek of grandmother's who loved Scotty’s Castle.


Scotty's Castle Death Valley

I was often the official map-navigator - a cherished connection to the travel and magical highway numbers, when I saw a feature on the Death Valley map called Ubehebe Crater. The map photo and blurb said it was a huge Crater where an ancient meteor struck lo, many millenniums ago. I found the name amusing , so I suddenly began an impromptu chant out loud …. "We-got-the-Ube-hee-bee-jeebies" … in a sing-songy way ... over and over. Well this didn't go over all that well with my captive audience, who I believe were the first to actually get the 'Ube-hee-bee-jeebies'! Just to make me quit - we made a rare diversion, and went to the crater - but only on the promise I wouldn’t chant anymore!

The Crater was astounding- what amazing power to make a hole a 1/2 mile across and 600 hundred feet deep .. the glassy sand was quite slippery - micro-beads of lava glass ... and while it was tempting to go down into bottom of the crater, after a few steps in the nearly liquid-esque and highly slippery lava beads, it was immediately clear that getting back up and out of the crater might be quite problematic... and I had a flash thought – this crater might be one of the reasons why this was called Death Valley'!!

With that thought in mind we were quickly back in the truck and on our way … and well over the 'heebie-jeebies'!!

[Editor's note: This story was written by R. Cane and is part of a 10 story series]

Ubehebe Crater Death Valley

Parallel Universe

I'm not cognizant of all the whys and wherefores of scientific research into mass and matter, quantum mechanics, string theory, black holes and time. Neither am I schooled in the principles that allow computers and other technological devices like touch pads work, but it seems to me, that we are living in a parallel universe ignored by scientists as they search, study, think and talk about the possible existence of them in outer space.

Some where I picked up the notion that computers work on a kind of magnetic field that we have learned to control and expand. After we learned to connected these fields, a private circuit of communication developed. Then a very smart person came along and suggested that rather than keeping the technology private, it would be a good thing if people and businesses could communicate with each other. The worldwide web was created.

That was also the beginning of a parallel universe.

We mail virtual letters, transfer virtual money, read and write virtual books, patrol the skies with virtual security, practice virtual espionage, indulge in virtual porn, create virtual businesses, buy and sell virtual stocks, create virtual art, give virtual lectures , earn virtual degrees, play virtual games, listen to virtual music, etc. etc. etc.

Our lives are dominated by this virtual world of substitutions. If any part of this parallel universe is tampered with, lost, compromised or stolen, we have virtual panics.

But all is not to be deplored. The data of virtual reality is used to create the many physical needs of our physical lives. Last night on the television news, I heard that virtual data will tell us where to plant trees and how to build structures that will withstand the intense heat and cold climate change is bringing. That certainly will be a benefit to the human race as we continue our existence in two worlds.

Parallel Universe



The Recipe Box: Roasted Garlic Artichokes

Roasted Garlic Artichokes

From the recipe box of KimB

One of our local restaurants serves a wonder dish of grilled artichokes. I have always eaten artichokes steamed with dipping sauce but this was so delicious that I had to make my own version.

The artichokes are steamed first then placed in an hot oven with olive oil and garlic and herbs until everything is nice and hot. The heat will take down the “bite” of the fresh garlic. The result is an artichoke that needs no additional dipping sauce but you will need to lick your fingers to get all the tasty juices that drip from the choke.


Ingredients:

steamed artichokes
fresh minced or slivered garlic
dried Italian herbs – basil, rosemary, thyme, oregano
salt
olive oil
aluminum foil

Cooking:

1. Set oven to broil
2. Cut the steamed artichokes in half – lengthwise
3. Make a "tray" from the foil and set inside an oven ready dish
4. Drizzel a small amount of olive oil in the bottom of the foil
5. Place the artichoke halves in the foil tray – cut side up
6. Drizzle olive oil over the artichokes so that it can seep into the petals
7. Sprinkle the garlic, herbs and salt over the top of each choke
8. Place the dish in the oven for 10-15 minutes or until the chokes are hot and the garlic softened.

Eating:

There is no way to eat these without getting messy. The oil mixture will drip from the petals as you pull them apart. If you don't like the dripping oil on your hands you can use some disposable plastic hand gloves available from Walmart or Costco.



Roasted Garlic Artichokes



The Road To Tucson - Part 1 of 2 by KimB

"All roads may lead to Rome" but for us, "All roads led to Grandmother and Grandfather". Well not "all" but a "lot".

My Grandparents liked to sample different parts of the US and lived in many parts of the country. They moved and moved often. When Grandmother decided it was time to check the grass on the other side of the fence, they would bundle up their belongings and head that-a-way.

Mom inherited that gene too, and we traveled just about anywhere she could get the old Corvair van to go and primarily in the direction of Grandmother and Grandfather. We took side trips here and there but Grandma's was The Destination of choice.

While we were living in Los Angeles, Grandmother and Grandfather had moved to Tucson, Arizona and opened the Saguaro Corners cafe there. So, it was no surprise that we should travel to visit them there and we traveled the road from LA to Tucson as often as Mom could field the money for gasoline.

Gas in those days was about 12 cents a gallon. That's right: TWELVE CENTS. I remember Mom doing a U-Turn to go to a different gas station when the one she drove into was charging 13 cents. Sounds a dream, but in those days, minimum wage was really low and $300/month salary was a pretty good deal.

The first roads we traveled to Tucson were not the Big Interstate Highways that there are now but small 2 or 3 lane roads heading east out of LA into the vast desert that lay between the LA basin and the Cafe.

The high speed was 50 mph though we were lucky to get to 45 in our car. It took a long time to travel the distance between LA and Tucson. If Mom could stay awake we might do it in less than 3 days, but it was hard driving. There wasn't any power steering so you really had to “hold the wheel to hold the road”. Some of the cars had clutches and manual shifts on the steering wheel. The clutch on one car was “touchy” and Mom had to double-clutch it to change gears. The cars supposedly had shock absorbers but most were just hard-ridin'. Every bump, rut and pot hole was a source of terror and fun: fun for the bounce, terror that you might break something and be stuck.

There were no cell phones or wayside call boxes. If you broke down or had a flat, you had to hope a passing motorist would stop and give you a hand or take a message to the next town's gas station/repair shop to come and get you. Sometimes folks would stop to help you change a tire or donate some water for an overheated radiator. We met lots of really nice people along the way.

Truckers were known for their courtesy and willingness to stop and help out whoever was stranded.

Need a ride to the next town? Hop in!
Would you like me to change that tire for you? No charge!
The road ahead is not good, take the detour at this junction!

Truckers were the gods of the highway and bestowed blessings on everyone as they made their way from here-to-there.

Cars rarely had mechanical air conditioning and ours had the standard 450AC System – 4 windows down at 50 miles per hour. There wasn't any tinted windows or polarized sunglasses either and facing the rising sun as it came up over the flat desert horizon meant everyone in the car had to help watch for obstructions as the driver could not see all that well until the sun had risen a bit higher.

Every traveler carried extra water for when the radiator overheated in the baking sun. And those that could, had an evaporation water bag draped over their radiator caps or dangling from the hood ornaments of their cars in front so that the cooler air would flow over the radiator in hopes that it wouldn't overheat.

Tires blew out regularly and inner tubes had to be patched and repaired often. Finding a tire repair shop open and willing to do business at all hours of the day and night was an adventure in its self. Patching inner tubes was an art form and good patches lasted a long time. The red patch would be glued to the surface of the inner tube and then the tube stuffed back into the tire. If it held air you were good to go. A good patch would hold until the next nail forced a stop at another tire repair spot. Bad patches meant you didn't get far before starting the hunt over. If you had a bad patch and were lucky, you didn't even get out of the driveway before the patch failed and they would have to re-do the patch for you. Sometimes it cost as much as $3.00 to get the tire patched – a ransom!

You had to carry your own vitals and supplies because you might travel for hours and hours and never see anything other than the slowly changing landscape. If you wanted a sandwich, you had to make it yourself because no one stopped. If you stopped, the 450AC would stop too, so you had to make your meals on-the-move and we carried our most popular items in a grocery bag on the front seat where the shot-gun-seat rider could make the sandwiches to-order and hand them to whoever was hungry. Peanut butter, English muffins and a Coca-Cola was the standard fare.

The Coca-Cola came in glass bottles that had a refundable cash deposit so no one threw them away or out the window. The empties would be placed in another grocery bag and turned in at any grocery store to help fund the purchase of the next 6-pack. It was guaranteed money and just tossing them in the trash was unheard of.

[Editor's note: This story was written by KimB and is part 1 of a 2 part series.]

Glass Coca-Cola Bottles

Tribal Travels, Musings, and Jawbone Canyon Chapter 6 by R. Cane

Long bouts of silent meditation and enjoying the grind of travel were interlaced with an occasional 'oh look - X is just up ahead 12 miles, that might be REALLY interesting to see !?' (hope hope)... we loved the roadsigns and billboards - I think it was the artist in all of us - and I recall especially enjoying smaller and home made signs for various gas stations, diners, hamlets .... curiosities and attractions (Grandad and I had made many signs over the years for various businesses of his - so we appreciated what it took to actually make your own signage).

We always looked for the Burma Shave type signs, and loved home made ones ones with the folksy touch, you know, the kinds that would say 'Eat, and get gas!'

On these long trips - part of our job was to keep the driver alert, so when Gramps was at the helm, - and sis and grams were back in the camper resting, I would be alone with Gramps. This was a cherished time for me. I always enjoyed this time alone with him, as this was the perfect time to ask him about 'stuff'. How does it work? What is it for? And such like. Grandad always had good answers, that really made you understand whatever it was. He and I had a wonderful explorations and chats about cars, horses, cowboys, mechanical stuff, electronic stuff and endless stuff of interest to us 'guys'.

This was a marvelous benefit of the long hours of driving and boredom. He would explain everything to me with great care and detail' such wonders as; how radios worked, ham radio stuff, guns, hunting, fishing, camping and so many other things a 14 year old was curious about. I loved to hear about his youth - comparing his to mine. We spent seemingly endless hours talking about everything, with wide ranging questions and answers about the whys and hows of 'stuff' - what a wonderful education! What a wonderful man!

[Editor's note: This story was written by R. Cane and is part of a 10 story series]

Burma Shave Sign



The Blanket

MrsB with Knitted
Log Cabin Blanket

I finally finished knitting the queen size blanket my daughter wanted. There were trials and tribulations along the way but I'm proud to say I can now be listed among those who have knitted a log cabin blanket.

Knitting the 16 squares that made up the star design was a mile stone and I was pleased with the achievement, but when I finished sewing them together, I was shocked to discover that the star design was off kilter!

I checked and rechecked the pattern. Each square was knitted properly with the correct number and color of logs so why in the world wasn't the star layout correct? My knitted squares looked like the photo in the book. It was a major quandary to say the least.

After sewing the 16 squares together, the blanket was nearly finished, needing only a narrow border to be queen size, so the only thing to do was finish knitting it. Regardless of the design, the blanket would be as warm as it would have been if the star had been correct.

As I knitted the border I discovered in my rush to finish the blanket that I had knitted one corner a fraction too long and again, I realized the error was beyond repair, so I gathered the stitches creating a tiny ruffled corner.

I also came up with the idea of knitting little patches to sew on top of the 4 intersections of the center squares making the star design more prominent. It helped. Besides, the colors were pretty.

I wrote a poem to go with the blanket and I think she likes both.

Click here for the Star Light poem

MrsB's Knitted Log Cabin Blanket