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I am having trouble uploading photos this morning, so thinking it was my new camera I selected a photo from my old camera. Introducing my constant companion, he who selects all patterns, sleep tests all quilts and generally runs my life, my Manx cat Raku. Now he may not be a treadle but he knows all about them. His favourite thing that his mummy brings home are brown paper shopping bags from the quilt shop. He just looooves them. He delights it hiding in them, a feat that is becoming harder as he gets older and more rotund. Mostly he now sits on them because he simply has outgrown them. A Manx cat is like no other. I am actually referred to amongst the various grandchildren as the "Nanny with the crazy cat" because Raku delights in bailing them up when they visit and hissing at them. He gets away with it and they scream in fear but the silliest is to see my huge step son who will back away from him and he is in excess of of six foot and a gym junkie. My, my, Raku

Yesterday saw me moving all the treadles to new positions in the house. I should really say saw my husband moving them, I just gave the instructions and he did the heavy lifting. My hero! The machines had become suppositories for all sorts of adornments they were never meant to carry, like dolls I rescued from the Blind Op Shop, glass baubles, paintings and the list of dust collectors goes on and on. I dropped the 319K into a treadle base and now I have myself a real fancy treadle that does real fancy stitches. She is heavier to treadle than my other gals so I would imagine that is because of her heavy gearing mechanism. So now I can treadle zig zag to my heart's content. I can do embroidery stitches and intergrate them into my crazy patchwork. Speaking of which, I had given my cousin a quilt for a kind act he did for me some time ago. Imagine my