Grandma's Quilt Club

We had a lot of fun at Grandma's Quilt Club this past weekend, even if that joke I told was kind of "lame!" The Bobby Sox Sisters is our theme. The year was 1955, and Jenny Jello was having a bit of a break-down. It's a totally fun club. If you haven't joined it yet, it can be as close your own mailbox. Just click the link above to get started. We also heard stories from class attendees about their experiences with the TV show Queen for a Day. One lady in class had actually been a contestant on the show. She said she didn't win but she was the "runner-up." Her grand prize was a giant carton of cigarettes! If you can remember when they advertised cigarettes on TV, then you're probably close in age to Grandma!

Here's a picture of one of my favorite class members. Gladys is 97 years old and still sewing quilts. See? You really will get all those quilts made from your stash. You just have to stay healthy!

And here's that silly joke I told: A woman brought a very limp duck to a veterinary surgeon. As she laid her pet on the table, the vet pulled out his stethoscope and listened to the bird's chest. After a moment or two, the vet shook his head and sadly said, "I'm sorry, but your pet duck, Cuddles, has passed away."

"How can you be so sure?" she protested. "I mean, you haven't done any testing on him or anything. He might just be in a coma or something."

The vet rolled his eyes, turned around and left the room. He returned a few minutes later with a black Labrador Retriever. As the duck's owner looked on in amazement, the dog stood on his hind legs, put his front paws on the examination table and sniffed the duck from top to bottom. He then looked up at the vet with sad eyes and shook his head.

The vet patted the dog on the head and took it out of the room. A few minutes later he returned with a cat. The cat jumped on the table and also delicately sniffed the bird from head to foot. The cat sat back on its haunches, shook its head, meowed softly, and then strolled out of the room. The vet looked at the woman again and said, "I'm sorry, but as I said, this is most definitely, 100% certifiably, a dead duck."

The vet then turned to his computer terminal, hit a few keys, and produced a bill which he handed to the owner. The duck's owner, still in shock, looked at the bill. "$150!" she cried. "$150 just to tell me that my duck is dead?"

The vet shrugged. "I'm sorry," he said. "If you had just taken my word for it, the bill would have been $20. But with the Lab Report and the Cat Scan, it's now $150."