quiltersmuse.com Blog

Anyone who knows me, knows that I adore learning. My husband and I are lifelong learners, even though it has been years since we were sitting in classrooms to earn degrees.

Sometimes I wonder what people are learning these days, and even if anyone is learning anything anymore. That thought is based partially on the way that news reporters on television do not seem to know even the correct pronunciation of words.

Lately, so-called “educated” individuals cannot write well, cannot speak well, and cannot form sentences that are not disjointed, unconnected, and make one wonder what they are trying to say, anyhow. The most egregious example of someone who speaks in this way, consistently, has had enough press lately, so I need not provide a name.

I have never been a “hockey mom,” nor cavorted (for lack of a better word) with “Joe, the Plumber,” but I think that without too much trouble I might fall into the category of a quilt historian who is like a “Pitbull with lipstick on.”

There’s just one glitch in the analogy. I don’t usually wear lipstick. However, I do try to adhere to the truth, and I do care about the truth. I try to uphold the truth, even if telling the truth makes someone else uneasy, or rocks the proverbial boat, and even if what I say is misconstrued as not being “nice.” I have no interest in being “nice,” if “nice” means being quiet about someone’s falsehoods and errors. When the meadow muffins start piling up, it’s time to get out the shovel.

There are all sorts of lies: inadvertent misrepresentations, half-truths, lies of convenience, lies to cover up, lies because someone did not take the time to seek the truth (i.e. sloppy scholarship). No matter how you cut the mustard, these are all lies. If you are not telling the truth, then … you are telling a lie. Makes sense to me.

Having worn this subject thin, I will give it a rest, as full of disgust as I am at a particular situation involving misstatements. I will go “lie” in my bed, to ponder what makes people tick, before I count sheep with ticks. I guess a motivator for some individuals is money. Another motivator is social standing or prestige. I am just content with the truth, simple as I am. Now, is the truth really too much to ask?

Patricia Cummings

We all listen to advice via sound bites and maxims, and I am no different than the rest of the world. A while ago, the favorite saying of the day is that “Life is not a dress rehearsal.” In other words, life and our actions today are the only chance we have to “get it right.” We cannot back up the tapes of what we do, and re-shoot them in real life. However, “bad” tapes can replay themselves in our heads, for years.

Some of us follow other people whom we consider to be role models. In so doing, we can become very disenchanted and discouraged, when they let us down. Think of all the young people who idolize pop stars and music video stars, only to find them to drink irresponsibly or be morally corrupt. Think of adults who put their trust in government leaders and may even wish that they, too, could serve in that capacity. Then it is observed that some legislator is doing something terribly unethical or just plain wrong. The public balks at the bad news. Remember this: Tomorrow, any bad news will just be accepted and swept under the rug, as if an event had never happened.

As a society, we seem to be suffering from collective memory loss because we tend to engage in the same lack of judgment, again and again. When I see grown men in camouflage attire, running around in a foreign country, with an imbedded reporter, and one of the men gets hit by mortar or gun fire, it is not surprising that it is immediately confirmed that the soldier will not be coming home, at least not alive. These men are not “playing war” for a TV special, rather, they are living a daily nightmare that their number will be up next, not to step up to the luncheon meat counter at the store, but to meet St. Peter. Let’s hope they pass through the Pearly Gates with ease.

On a daily basis, we all make mistakes. If you keep forgetting to kiss your wife goodbye, a word to the wise, don’t. If you have not locked up your firearms yet, to keep them safe from youngsters, take care of the situation. Don’t take anyone else for granted. It’s not that they might die, it is that they will die, and so will you. It’s all a matter of timing.

The importance of life in all of its forms is often, for me, a poignant consideration, as it would be for anyone who stops to think about it, and particularly anyone who has a life-threatening condition.

So, if life is not a dress rehearsal, it means that we have to maximize our chances of taking the right course of action for ourselves, today. If you have been postponing a hard decision, make it. If you love people in your life, but never see them, make the effort. We will never walk down this road again, in the same way. Think of today as special because every today is a building block for tomorrow. Play for keeps.

Patricia Cummings

The rule of “status quo” is that there is no room for movement, growth, or change. The dictators of status quo would like everything to remain the same, with the same old rhetoric, the same old leaders (or those who agree with them), the same way of doing things.

Look to your own organizations. The leader of a group may be the best person for the job, and he/she remains in that post, sometimes until death. As a free society, we know that there are many groups and associations, most of them with a head honcho, grand “Poohbah,” or “great, white leader,” in an historical manner of speaking.

In societies, people are judged by their lineage, by the amount of money they have earned or inherited, and by the influence of their “clan.” In this age, we could construe the word “clan” to mean “extended family” that has been acquired because people substitute acquaintances for real family that has been “lost” in moves to distant states where money-making opportunities reside.

A lot of people might feel stuck in society’s overall view of who they are perceived to be. Education has always been a possibility for a step up the ladder. Historically, and I will use Spain as an example, one way to get ahead was to either become a priest, or join the military. And, the tradition of the latter has continued, there and here.

Young men are attracted to the military for many reasons. Some may join so that they can more easily get the training they need for the jobs they wish to hold, later in life, if they survive their tour(s) of duty. The military seems to be personally helpful to formerly undisciplined youth who never made a bed at home, but now MUST do so (at “work”). The military guarantees a paycheck, and work, unless someone makes some horrible mistake, is wounded, or fatally injured.

Where am I going with these thoughts? Well, let me back up a bit and mention a PBS special program called “Secrets of the Dead,” that I viewed last night. The show was about the fight by “the powers that be” to restrict the common man’s access to a version of the Bible in English, which was first written in Greek. The hour long show included a segment in which a dissenter and promoter of the English Bible was killed, but later exhumed, so that his body could be burned and his ashes spread in a non-Christian burial ground.

What is that all about, you say? Why would anyone do that? Seems radical. “The powers that be” had to make a further example of the man in hopes of dissuading anyone else from doing the things he had done, in life, that were considered to be so wrong. Power is at the root of the action.

Money, greed, and dominance equal power. The debates about power, and the misuse of it, probably reach back to a time we can only imagine: pre-recorded history. The debates and the struggles of man are often unchanged from century to century: the rights of self-governance, the right to make war, and what sacrifices will be required before we can make peace.

Yet, in our hearts, we all long for peace … except for the annoying neighbor, except for the co-worker who pulls our chain, except for the rest of our “enemies.” No, we speak of peace, but our tongues are swords, ready to go into action at the slightest hint of trespass of what we believe should be the maintained status quo. In other words, people are fine, as long as others go along with our set program, or follow (us) along like sheep going into the slaughter.

There may come a time of peace in the future. That may be when a nuclear holocaust has arrived, the war engine turbines have been silenced, and only ants continue to walk the earth. In the meantime, we live with our own delusions that everything is ok and will be ok. With any luck, we will continue to make some beautiful quilts to comfort our bodies and our souls, practically and visually, while we wait for the Generals and soldiers alike to put down their armaments that maim and kill living things.

Peacefully piece.

Pat

I have been listening to politicians again and a recurrent theme is the idea that if you throw money at a problem, (read the statement as “throw money down the tubes), then all will be well. I am here to tell you that there is no amount of money that can be spent in any educational system that will prevent “unwanted pregnancies.” Kids are foolish. It will never happen to them … they won’t get “caught.” In this case, raging hormones prevail. Teenagers should know better, but in the heat of the moment, they don’t act better.

We have all these buzz words swirling around Washington. One phrase, “No child left behind,” is a nightmare of a concept, in the opinions of most teachers who would rather teach content, than to teach to the test.

“Pork barrel spending” is another concept. The idea is to propose as much expensive legislation as possible, and then accuse your cohorts of too much involvement with spending that involves cronyism.

Like not being about to see the forest for the trees, we don’t examine the small impact of many interventions (questionable solutions?), that lead to a large impact.

And, women! I can’t tell you how many women I know who are indifferent to the political process and are not even registered voters. These people are casual acquaintances or I would read them the riot act about the fact that women did not gain the right to vote until 1920 and they should take advantage of the Right of Suffrage. Women can bring sensibility to the political process, as well as a sensitivity and accountability.

No, money is not the entire answer to any problem. For example, money will not bring better teachers into our schools. Teachers are either well-schooled, astute, and have the temperament for dealing with children, or they don’t. More money cannot change someone’s basic personality, nor their own responsibility for pursuing classes that will improve their professional functioning.

Last night’s debate made me nervous. Somehow, it struck me as disingenuous. McCain seemed to be glaring, seemingly in the attack mode. At times, Obama seemed to be broadly smiling for no particular reason, and hopefully not in derision of his opponent. He also did not answer a direction question about spending … at all. I was left with the wish that Mrs. Clinton had been given her party’s nomination, and I have the same sadness as I did when Al Gore did not win. The most able people are sometimes shoved aside in politics, perhaps never to run again.

I was more confident and hopeful before watching the last of the debates, last night. Like everyone else, we will have to wait and see, hope and pray, that the process will even out and the best man will remain standing. As for money being an answer for anything … ever … I believe that is a false notion. Having more money only makes the affluent more greedy and does nothing for the “little guy.” The politicians are right! There are no “trickle down” economics, unless you count a few more pennies in tips for restaurant workers. We continue to count down to November 4, and in the meantime, hope for the best.

Patricia Cummings

Some wise person once said that a lie can get half way around the world before the truth can get his pants on. This is not a blog about politicians, although it could be, in the last days of the election. This blog is not about the shysters would lie and cheat their way to the top. This blog is also not about grandiose, but mentally disturbed people, who tell lies about their abilities. One thing to remember is to never say that you are “fluent” in another language, when all you can do is to say “hello.” Once, I was tutoring a student in quilting when out of the blue, she told me that she was able to speak a long list of languages, one of them being Spanish. When I began speaking in Spanish, she drew a blank look and said that she “used to speak that one fluently.” Yes, and my pet pig is green.

Lies like that, meant to temporarily inflate one’s ego, don’t actually hurt anyone other than the liar himself/herself, it seems, but I have also learned that people who find it easy to tell any lie, also have no problem stealing, cheating, etc., in other words, living a life that is not even true to themselves.

Do you know the lies I despise the most? Falsehoods and fabrications about quilt history, when these are shared with a group, either online, in person, or in the media, including books. Lies do seem to “stick” more quickly, and often, no one challenges them because they come from the lips of an “expert.” Ha! That is a misnomer, in most cases.

Now, some people “mean well” when they blithely share their misinformation. In one instance, someone listed Kate Greenaway as still designing motifs in the 1930s, quite an achievement for someone who died in 1901. Of course, typos can come into play. Then again, we have a quilt that was reproduced, time and again, yet the “original” has never been seen, and its location is unknown (probably because it never existed in the first place?) – See my new book for more details.

Sometimes, information is misinterpreted, a common occurrence with us humans. We even misread each others’ intentions. The current political scene is a good example of that with the lady stating that she thinks Obama is not to be trusted because he is an Arab. Well, last I knew, an “Arab” was someone from Arabia who speaks Arabic. Even if he were, there are many law abiding, Arab-Americans, according to the media.

Of course, some remarks that are lies are intentionally made by people who want to try to gain the upper hand, by small minded toads, and by others who want to damage someone’s reputation. No matter what the reason is for lying, there is no sufficient justification. In the case of politics, the means do not justify the end.

I hope that in politics and in the rest of life, we can begin to concentrate on what is good about each other. The less attention given to the negatives, the better. I just hope that people who should know better, will begin to take extraordinary care when they impart information. After all, who would want to hear, “Liar, liar, pants on fire,” or worse yet, be caught with their pants down?

Patricia Cummings

Let me preface this by saying that I rarely watch television. The exception is the News. However, last season I was intrigued by the show, “The Office.” I was looking forward to the new season because I liked various story lines.

What a disappointment with that show, and the one preceding it, “Earl.” Last night, both shows had the need to portray women as involved in extramarital affairs or illicit activities. In the later case, Earl’s father’s neighbor moved away because he felt guilty after he helped himself to Earl’s father’s wife, apparently with her urging and full consent.

Back at “The Office,” the Boss’s ex-girlfriend is expecting a baby and when she shows up at the workplace, he rubs her belly, crooning, “Who’s Your Daddy?”

In another scene, one of the “girls” has become engaged to a co-worker, and while he is busy trying to plan some wonderful honeymoon trip, somehow she keeps wandering downstairs to hang out in the closet with her ex-boyfriend, another co-worker, admonishing him each time that it will be the “last.” She explains, “I really like my fiance.”

There is something about these shows that is very disturbing in a moral sense. Based on these productions, we could ask if Americans have any moral fiber left. And, furthermore, if these images bother a middle-aged woman, like me, what effect are they having on young people who watch this irresponsible behavior? I mean, if you don’t know who the father of your baby is, you’ve been cavorting with a few too many boyfriends, don’t you think?

We always come back to the age old question:  Does art portray life, or is it an exaggeration? In this arena, of so-called humor, are the scenes supposed to be (sickening) funny, the more disgusting the better?

Last night, when “The Office,” was not being gross, or the characters not being crudely insulting of each other, (one calling another, “retarded,”) then, there was some other unsettling scenes. One I did not appreciate was when a new girl said she didn’t want to go out with a guy because she preferred women … but then said, that she had lied. You know, I never heard about “gays,” growing up, and I was the happier for it. Now, the idea is crammed down our throats everywhere we turn, and especially in the media. Sorry, I see no reason for “pride.”

Finally, I had to turn off the TV after one of the characters, who was on an enforced diet, by the boss, fell off the scale upon which all of her co-workers were involved in their weekly weigh-in. She landed on the concrete warehouse floor and was lying in a pool of blood. That was enough! Somehow, I don’t think I’ll be tuning in next week. I could see nothing entertaining or culturally redeeming in either of the shows. At least with the News shows, the events actually happened and therefore, are believable.

Patricia Cummings

I am stewing. Why? I just wonder how anyone can write about any subject without first thoroughly researching it; and second of all, without getting the person’s name right, who is the subject of the discourse. The whole act seems criminal, and just as “life is in the details,” the details of someone’s life are important to “get right.”

In exploring any subject, a good writer will look at multiple sources to verify the same material. I verified the person’s name in many ways, including her birth and marriage certificates. A conscientious writer will employ critical thinking skills to figure out situations.

I’ll give you an example. It does not seem logical to say that a woman was engaged in giving quilt talks, when that person had just lost her husband, was busy working on an undergraduate and a graduate degree at an out of state university, and was teaching, too. This is not to mention that the book upon which she later based much of her quilt block information and stories for lectures, had not yet been published. In addition, when there is no extant physical evidence, it is doubly illogical to claim the statement.

To come to the conclusion that the woman might not have given quilt lectures during the time in question, one would have to know when her husband died, what years she was in school, and what else she was doing during that decade. One would also have to realize that the quilt book in question weighed heavily in answering the question as to whether or not the person was actively involved in giving lectures during that decade. Without written proof, the statement that she provided quilt lectures at that time, is pure speculation. You get the point.

What does one do when one is a scholar and an historian who is serious about discovering the truth, and then, dismally, realizes that another “scholar” has published/disseminated erroneous information, covering a ten year time span?

There comes the rub. What can one do? It is a frustrating situation, particularly when people line up to take sides. As far as I know, no one has taken sides yet. Knowing human nature, it seems a likely scenario. People make light of the errors of their cronies, perhaps due to a misplaced loyalty.

I am interested in the truth. I uphold it, and I seek to spread it. I speak out when something is wrong, and in the case I mention, things are amiss.

I can’t account for the mistakes of others. Being in a hurry was the excuse given to me. All I can do is to try to retell the story, incorporating the facts, while trying to forget the lack of attention to the facts that has preceded my work.

I could just cry a river over the hurt inflicted on the family, when their relative was not even called by her given name. The error repeated itself, in yet another venue. Instead of honoring the deceased by writing about her, her memory was dishonored. And now, this misinformation has been spread to the four winds, via an article, presentations, and/or journal write-ups that will remain in libraries, forever, possibly to confuse other researchers.

Yes, I am upset when I think of misguided “work” by someone who should have tried a little harder to establish the truth. Now, the information is on record, “for what it’s worth.” I am passionate about my chosen field of quilt history and I just want people to “get it right.” When they don’t, it’s a crying shame.

Patricia Cummings

We are constantly evolving, as people, and it is no news to you that “change” always seems to be the most desirable next step. In some instances, change is for the better. However, change just for the sake of itself does not always reap expected benefits. To turn to politics, for an instant, Barack Obama has achieved his current pinnacle of success on the buzzword of “change.”

Right now, the results of change are troublesome. Schools are turning out students who are lackadaisical about disciplined learning. Graduates sometimes lack critical thinking skills altogether. It is rather frightening. I mean, would you really like to have a doctor operating on you who has barely eeked through medical school with poor grades? I’d rather have an A student taking out my appendix. By the way, what are the standards of medical schools in other countries? Foreign-trained doctors are being hired, left and right, in clinics across the country, and some of those doctors are quite inept.

While we are on the subject, what about the current state of kickbacks – oh, pardon me, “rebates,” to doctors, for prescribing medications? One doctor tried (unsuccessfully) to tell me that I have Restless Leg Syndrome and don’t sleep well. Really? I sleep just fine, and if I don’t, it is perhaps more often due to a certain person, snoring. Yes, sometimes it is me snoring, waking myself up! Ha! No, no twitchy legs here.

Maybe the problem between foreign doctors and patients is sometimes that of language. Some doctors just don’t know how to interact with, or speak with, patients.

I like to remember the time when doctors made house calls, when they knew every member of the family, or at least all of the siblings.

Dr. Joy and Dr. Jalbert, in my youth, were two of the finest physicians I have ever known. One of them visited our house one Sunday, late afternoon, after my brother had split his head open when ice skating with my other brother, and my parents were away at some church activity. Unless memory fails me, one of them came to see me when I had Scarlet Fever. When I think back, I see my childhood as a kind of Norman Rockwell vignette. Even though we lived in a city, everything seemed so home town, right down to the striped poles outside the barber shops.

We went to the bakery on Saturday afternoons. The smell of breads and pastries nearly filled the street. My mother would buy baked beans that surpassed even her own, and hers were delicious. Her favorite pastry was “Neopolitans.” My Dad favored “Apple Turnovers.” Of course, today, the business is no longer there.

As I approach my birthday, I can’t help but think of these kinds of changes – no more house calls by doctors, no more small town atmosphere in Manchester, no more bakery, or dedicated fish market in the “Irish” part of town. Things and places change and we change. It is all so subtle and slow moving, we barely notice from day to day. My hair is gray and changing to white. I weigh more than I did when I was in college. I reach for my glasses, if I don’t already have them on, whenever I want to read, and I’m noticing, more and more, all the little aches and pains associated with aging.

I find myself getting enraged at the mistakes of others who “should know better.” I find that I do not suffer fools gladly, or at all. I have become very outspoken because I have a command of more knowledge, than ever before, and I view it as an injustice and a personal affront when anyone passes along false information.

So, there are changes in the world that are unavoidable: natural disasters, the economy, and war. We have little or no control over the physical changes of aging, in ourselves. The things we can change, we should, for starters:  Education with higher standards at every level; and testing for foreign doctors coming into mainstream medical practices in the U.S. In addition, it would be a good idea to outlaw those so-called “rebates” as they present a conflict of interest between patient interest, and padding the pockets of doctors.

Some change is good; but some is not. The next president will not have time to sort out all the problems because they have been developing for too long a time. We can start making the world a “kinder, gentler” place, in our own workplace. For example, a nice way to answer the phone at a clinic would be, “Hello. May I help you?” – not, “I’m with another patient. Can you hold? (click). The health care system does seem in need of a major overhaul. In life, you will find that it IS the little things that matter.

Patricia Cummings

I am happy that someone can make a joke about body jewelry. Recently, a comedienne mentioned that she saw a young person with a safety pin through an eyebrow, and she hadn’t even realized that eyebrows could possibly fall off. LOL

Nursing homes workers who have visible body piercings, with metal parts, must cover them with Bandaids. They are too disturbing for residents to see. Days like this, I think I must be old, too. They disturb me, not only visually, but because I worry about fatal infections for those who engage in such practices.

The biggest turn off is to see a food server with jutting metal parts. How can any of this be “cute” or attract the opposite gender? I sit in wonderment at the trend. More often, I stand in fascination and revulsion, especially for … lip jewelry.

The fact that young people think that this idea is just the ultimate of things to do to themselves is beyond my comprehension. I suppose it is a variation of the “ring through the nose” practice of earlier cultures. In terms of civilization, things like this seem to represent “one step forward, two steps back.” Nothing truly ever changes. Teenagers only think they are inventing something new, to be “different.”

If I had a family member who did this kind of thing, I would consider locking him or her in a closet until he or she came to his or her senses. I’d be mortified, disgusted, and feel a sense of betrayal. The idea of metal facial jewelry is an insult to God himself and is disgustingly ugly, as well as dangerous.

Yet restaurants keep hiring teenagers who “adorn” themselves in this manner. Why?

Perhaps the workers will get a brain infection and die. In this manner, at least, they will not procreate more individuals of the same ilk. In the meantime, they could be considered “handicapped,” based on their ability to “handicap” business by turning off customers.

Some people have so many piercings, they would need their entire head wrapped in gauze to hide them all. Though alarming, I suppose that amount of wrapping might engender sympathy; maybe even get some extra tips, as people envision that the party might have been severely injured in the war, or has just undergone brain surgery.

Usually, I say “live and let live.” In this case, I say, “If you are going to mutilate yourself, don’t expect me to look at you and admire the “work.” I don’t know who started the trend, probably someone with extra metal on hand. No doubt, it is, like everything else, all about someone putting money in the bank for a “service.” Only, in this case, the “service” is to disfigure someone … or worse.

And people wonder why older folks long for the “good ole days”????

Patricia Cummings