Live Long and Quilt, Make it, Sew
I finished with my coworkers baby quilt. The baby is due end of December beginning of January time frame. This quilt was inspired by a quilt named Moonflower on the http://heleneknott.com #StarTrek #quilt #Imadethis #madewithlove #startrekfanart
I finished the Star Trek Tholian Web quilt for Jon and his family. I think it turned out nicely. 
I finished with my grandson’s quilt. I think it turned out nicely.
Dragons
I am a woman of considerable age and I admit the stories my grandfather told me as a child still bring fear to my soul.
The last two mornings I have traveled to work in a dense fog. The fog was so thick in spots I was unable to see more than an arm’s length away. If I hadn’t known where I was going I would have gotten lost in the scariness. My grandfather was a storyteller. The best Pride has ever seen. I loved his stories, even the ones that frightened me. Many a night after listening to my grandfather, tell his tales I crouched beneath my bed quilts in fear.
My favorite stories contained mighty and ferocious dragons. According to my grandfather, dragons were misunderstood wondrous creatures of flight. A dragon by nature was not a killing beast but a guardian of gateways to magical realms. They only ate bad children who continuously misbehaved and caused their parents unbearable stress and grief. Dragons hid in the early morning mist and used the fog to travel between the realms.
This morning after reaching the Clinch River Bridge, the memories of my youth came flooding back. The dense fog reminded me of dragons. The bridge is old and needs replaced. A slow steady pace is required on a clear day. The journey across on a day when you can’t see where you are going is treacherous. Halfway across I stumble over a broken board. I fell and scraped my knee. The pain took me by surprise. I yelled a few words that I won’t repeat here. As I picked myself up, I saw two emerald green eyes racing toward me and hear a screeching that sounded very much like the cry of a dragon. I covered my head and crouched in fear. There was a brief moment when I was certain a dragon was going to eat me.
It was not a dragon but Mr. Fredericks driving a motor cart. He was on his way home. If I hadn’t fallen on my knee and cried out in pain, he wouldn’t have known I was on the bridge. Mr. Fredericks apologized for nearly running me over and promised not to tell my husband I swear like a sailor.
A reality television show sponsored by major industry giants, The Commodity Combat Tournaments (CCT) are promoted as a way to test, study and develop safety equipment and weapons for hunters, soldiers and survivalists.
Dog fights are illegal. Those caught breaking the animal-cruelty laws face stiff fines and punishments of up to five years in prison.
Drafted from Commodity Trade shows by recruiters, a child commodity has no protection. There are no anti-cruelty laws on the books protecting children from deadly combat tournaments camouflaged as family entertainment.
Boys and Girls selected as competitors for CCT are subjected to 3 months of intense combat training. Survival rates a mere 42%. For rating purposes, a select few are fast tracked to the games.
Cup of Commodity Coffee Shop
Betting on how long your favorite runner would survive and evade capture was a favorite family pastime.
Sponsored by major industry giants, the “Cup of Commodity” coffee shop offered a variety of beverages and pastries in a family friendly environment. Located on the back wall behind the pastry bar, the Tracker Board ranked the top 20 Runners. Large flat screen televisions strategically placed around the room looped the most recent runner updates. Bets taken at any cash register; identification required.
You could hear a pin drop; everyone’s eyes were on the television screens. It was a good run; the freckle-faced 14-year-old commodity dodged capture for 12 days, an almost unheard of event.
It was all fun and games. The boy thought he was invincible. He taunted the retriever with clues to his hiding places.
For financial gain, an anonymous spotter sent a photo pinpointing the boy’s exact location to the Retriever.
The local television station played the clip several times. Below the underpass, crouched in the dirt the boy begged for his life. “Wait! Please!” He cried wiping his tears. “Can I see my mom? Can I talk to her?”
Annoyed with this one, the retriever smiled and pulled the trigger.
The “Cup of Commodity” coffee shop broke into simultaneous celebration and displeasure. The money exchanging hands would put this runner on the all-time favorite list. The boy’s mom would receive a small cash award from the “Cup of Commodity” for her son’s efforts.
The Bargain Bin
An accident at the textile plant left her disfigured, permitted to keep the teddy bear for comfort she sat on the bench next to the blind boy and waited.
Considered throw-a-ways, the bargain bins contained children physically and mentally imperfect. Bundled together instead of sold separately; these commodities were destined for organ farming, drug testing and jobs considered too hazardous for the adult population.
The bargain bin children receive an endless flow of onlookers. Wooden benches surrounded by a glass enclosure with nowhere to hide, the physically and mentally broken commodities wait for the end of the day and the undisclosed hell to come. The curious gawk and point at their misfortune.
Behind closed doors, potential buyers negotiate amongst each other.
Child welfare advocates on the street proclaim the government treats wounded animals more humanely than a child commodity.
The Graphic Artist
She was 15, and a talented graphic artist. The old man was retiring and selling his grocery store. He no longer needed a grocery clerk to clean and stock the shelves. Grateful for three years of honorable service, he labeled her flier as reliable, smart and pretty. She wished he had left off “Pretty”. Pretty attracted the wolves. Her portfolio held tightly in her hands, she prayed her new prospective buyer would have a need for her artistic talent.
The old man paid for a commercial endorsement highlighting her talents as a graphic artist. The ad would run on the large viewing screens three times during the day.
Cradle of Asset Baby Ranch
The “Cradle of Asset” Baby Ranch amenities included semi-private rooms, nutritious meals, recreational activities, a day spa and a private medical clinic.
Security features on the 17-acre ranch include; armed security guards, 24 hour surveillance video monitoring and a 12-foot high electric fence.
The commodity surrogates range in age from 12 to 17, each is certified free of physical abnormalities and mental defect. The girls are impregnated using donor sperm from a state-run medical bank.
**Sperm and eggs from the adoptive parents may be used at an extra cost. This option increases the cost significantly and does not guarantee an infant within a specific time frame.
Baby Broker
He wore a dark suit and a cowboy hat. A man of great wealth and self-importance, he owned the “Cradle of Asset” baby ranch. His business flyer promised a newborn within 10 months of application date provided the prospective parents weren’t looking for a specific baby style. Catering to childless couples seeking infants quickly, his customers included the wealthy, the famous and anyone that could afford his fees. A regular patron of the commodity trade shows, he searched the floor for a girl with a specific look
The Intern
Exceptional grades had earned him an internship as a state-processor for the Commodity Trade Convention Center. He was 19 and nervous. His mom had insisted he wear the suit on his first day of work. Armed Security Guards escort a dozen tired, cold and hungry children into the holding room. Holding the tag scanner with shaky hands, he confirms each child’s name and number. Feeling awkward and a little guilty, he can’t look the new VEP commodities in the eyes as he marks them for their initial sale price.
The Nurse
A nurse for over 40 years, she wore a starched navy blue uniform and a white pinafore apron. Upon her gray hair pulled back into a tight bun an old faded nursing cap. She scrutinizes each commodity’s health and verifies age. Reviews the current owner’s suggested commodity classification of the child to ensure accuracy and makes adjustments if necessary. Children marked as physically broken, possible trouble-makers or panic-stricken are given sedatives before escorted by guards to the convention center floor and placed in viewing cells.