In my part of the world we say you are a fool if your passion for a pursuit overcomes all practical sense. I am a stitching fool, and I stitch foolishness.

Monday, December 7, 2015

What to do . . . what to do . . .

We had to leave Williamsburg today. We had to. We both have to work tomorrow, and go back to being responsible adults, and take up our regular lives again.


The only good part of the trip home was the detour to take Baby Girl out for a belated birthday lunch, and to deliver her birthday present to her. The rest of it was just grim.

To distract myself, I thought about the classes I had taken and what I wanted to do when I got home.

I've started some of the bits of A Moment in Time, and I stitched half a thread into the needlecase from Joanne Harvey that was the early bird class this year--and I realized I hadn't shown that yet:

While it isn't much, it is most definitely a start.

And, like all brand new projects, I'm very excited and motivated and want to jump right in.

Then we walked into the house and the basket of current projects and the basket of things to be assembled and engineered and tasseled and corded were both jumping up and down and waving at me. I felt guilty, falling in love with something new when the faithful projects had been waiting patiently for my return.

So do I abandon the old and flee with the new?  Do I regretfully push away the new and return to the old? Or do I try to balance both?

(Cue rising organ music.) Tune in tomorrow to see what decision I made (because, quite frankly, I'm too tired tonight to lift a needle, much less figure out how to use it!)


  1. Oh, I feel your pain. I know what this is like!

  2. I've been down this road so many times. Oh, the pile on the ironing board is waving at me again.....