We've had quite a busy week here with one big task after another. I did manage to work in some painting practice last weekend, and Mischief found a way to help me with the same technique he uses to help me with the quilting. He went on the alert when he saw the paints being mixed at the kitchen sink. He jumped up to investigate them, nearly knocking over one bottle of paint powder in the process. My yell of anguish didn't deter him from his investigations in the least, and Mom had to come and lecture him on the evils of playing with the paint.

Her lecture fell on deaf ears. He followed me into my bedroom where I set up my paper and paints on my table. He lay down above the paper, watching the rustling magazine I put next to him because I was going to use its colorful pictures as my inspiration. He sniffed at everything around him as I moistened the new brushes and loaded one with blue paint. He lay there watching the blue streak on the paper grow, sniffing delicately at the edge of the paper. He then decided that it was time to use his time-honored quilting technique on the painting.

Slap! went his paw, right on the wet blue streak. It was obviously an unworthy object that needed to be attacked. My yell made him jump up and retreat to a slightly safer distance, leaving a trail of little blue paw prints behind him. I coaxed him into standing still until I could seize him and immobilize the offending paw, then carried him into the kitchen where Mom sponged his paw until the blue paint was off while he wriggled in protest and looked at us with big, horrified eyes.

I released him and his now wet paw on the floor and he decided that it was time to play outside for a while. I cleaned up the blue paw prints and returned to my practice. Several paintings later, it was obvious that my artistic talents left much to be desired. Whatever talent I had shown as a child had become quite rusty. I began exploring watercolor modern art paintings in one of the library books. Abstract art techniques seemed to be my best hope.

Perhaps more painting practice will help, with Mischief kept at bay as much as possible. It took him several hours to get over getting his paw cleaned, and he nervously eased up to the table and slapped it several times with his paw before he was satisfied that it wasn't going to get him again. I doubt that it will stop him from attacking the paint again, though, since he was fascinated by the brush gliding over the paper like a furry little critter just begging to be grabbed.

Diva night was built around a pajama night theme. Unknown to us, we were supposed to have dressed in nightwear with a contest for the best costume. Many of the ladies had decided to contend for the prize and had come in their bedtime finery. One lady laughed that her husband had begged her to show some dignity and not go in her pajamas. Another lady came dressed complete with curlers in her hair, which undoubtedly contributed to her winning the contest that evening.

As the pajama party gathered, Mom and I selected our pieces and paints and returned to our designated places. Mom got a divided platter for serving snacks with a dip in the center well, and painted it green on the bottom and yellow on the top. I selected a vase and started sponge painting it with an abstract representation of an early dawn.

Once again, I was painting to the beat of an eccentric drummer as everyone else was painting various ordinary objects with cheery greetings. I patted a medium blue on the base with a band of dark teal above it, blending the two subtly together. I sponged a band of yellow and orange above that, then accented the boundary with the teal with a dark violet. I sponged a light blue along the rim, using water to thin the glaze to a lighter tone as I blended it into the yellow.

I set it aside to get my snacks and considered the patterns as it dried. I gave it a few more accents here and there, nibbling on fruit and a brownie as each effort dried to match the other glazes. I finally painted my initials on the bottom and declared it done. I finished the last bit of brownie and looked at Mom's platter, now decorated with a sprig of broccoli, two tomatoes, a carrot, and a green pepper. Somehow, I had the feeling that I wasn't quite getting the spirit of diva night.

The vase did turn out pretty well, though. Steve and I picked it up on Thursday afternoon. The colors had fired to a darker shade, as expected, but it was pretty close to what I had tried to achieve. It was also the only abstract piece on the table of pieces waiting to be picked up.

Mom and I are considering whether we will go to further diva nights. It's a fun hobby, but pretty expensive for the results you get unless you are trying to make some serious art work. Most of the ladies are there for the party with an easy project as part of the entertainment. I've seen too much pretty quilting fabric with artistically painted designs to be satisfied with that, but I can't paint those designs myself so far. That's one of the attractions of quilting. I can start with fabric art that is beautiful in itself, and combine it in ways that make another composition that is unique from the original fabric yet beautiful as well.

The garden is also doing beautifully. The Roma tomatoes have finally ripened their first fruit. I picked six Thursday night and made a simple chopped tomato salad for supper. It was wonderful! Even though we can get pretty good tomatoes at the local produce markets this time of year, freshly picked vine-ripened tomatoes from the garden are still the best. There are more tomatoes ripening as well on plants up to five feet tall. They really liked that compost.

I emptied Rapunzel again and Baby's load is almost ready as well. Those tumblers are turning out load after load of compost, far faster than would be possible by making compost heaps in the yard. In fact, I wouldn't have room to plant anything if I had to use the space for compost heaps at this volume. They're definitely a good solution for building up the soil out of the organic materials that we have at hand.

I bought more vegetable seeds at a garden seed sale. They were priced at 80 percent off to clear out the remaining supplies with their choice of varieties in each package. I love getting surprise packages like that. The package should arrive in time to plant a few more things.

I also managed to sneak in another order to fabric.com but got caught just as I was about to submit it. Steve threw a fit about it, but I did need the new rotary cutter blades and rulers. I've got the flannel quilt up to 72 blocks with an idea for the sashing and border, but it would be much easier with sharp blades and rulers to fit the blocks better. I've been using a six inch triangle ruler and a twenty-four inch by five inch border ruler, and it makes it more difficult to square up the bigger pieces in these blocks. As long as I was ordering them during the sale, I got some fabric for another quilt. There was no point to wasting the shipping charges, after all.

I'm having a little race between the two packages. The seed order left the company on September 15 by USPS and is already in town. The fabric order left on September 18 by UPS and is on the way. Today is September 19 and they are both scheduled to be delivered on September 22. I've been checking their progress with their tracking numbers, trying to contain my excitement. Steve is already on the alert about the fabric order, but I didn't mention the seed order to him.

For some strange reason, he doesn't think I do enough work around here. His outburst of ire revealed his motives behind buying huge bags of potatoes. We have about forty pounds in the kitchen right now, and that was after I used about five pounds in a cooking experiment this morning.

It seems that he was hoping that I would try making potato pancakes like the hash brown patties he gets when a local fast food chain is having a contest. He did not explain this when the potatoes began arriving in bulk, even though I had not been making potato pancakes in the past. Well, what was I supposed to do, read his mind? Or maybe set a potato on a burner with the range hood lights in its eyes until it told me everything? I thought he wanted his usual gallons of mashed potatoes.

So, I made one batch of potato pancakes that turned out fairly tasty but a bit too moist. In fact, they were practically mashed potatoes inside. I recalled that a lady on a cooking show had vigorously squeezed her shredded potatoes, and I similarly manhandled another batch. It yielded more liquid, but it didn't really start weeping until I had added the salt. If this batch is too moist, next time I am going to salt the potatoes and let them drain that way before I add the rest of the ingredients. If that doesn't do it, I may need to switch to a different variety of potato that doesn't fall apart into mush so easily. Oh, how I suffer for my quilting supplies!