Actually, we arrived yesterday. We had lunch at our favorite restaurant, got checked in and unloaded the car, and I went to the stitching room for my first day at the retreat.
One of the high points is getting the special edition stitching accessory made for us by the extremely talented Rachael Kinnison. This year, she surpassed herself.
We also had a divine reception, celebrating the five years we have met at the Lodge to celebrate friendship, needlework, and good food and drink!
And I've been trying to stitch.
In the stitching room yesterday, I discovered I can't count. It took me three times to get the left side of this heart to match where it was supposed to.
(There is an outline there, it just blends into the background. )
This is the beginning of Gay Ann Rogers' Vicntage Roses Heart, which literally arrived on the doorstep the day before we left. I have probably stitched at least two dozen hearts that Gay Ann designed over the years. I should be able to stitch in the outline with the needle between my teeth and blindfolded with both hands tied behind my back.
Not so much.
This disturbing trend continued today. We are very lucky to have a class on 17th century stitches with Chris Berry, and we started out with variations on buttonhole stitch today.
With one exception, I have stitched every single type of buttonhole we covered today. Numerous times. Very nicely, I might add.
I was fine this morning.
When we came back from our lunch break, it was a different story entirely.
I couldn't get my tension correct, my spacing in the right place, my turns and returns accomplished with anything better than a kindergartener's skill with a sewing card. It didn't help that I was sitting next to Rachael, across from Amy Mitten, and two seats down from Katherine Diuguid. I was surrounded by Greatness, and I was Not Worthy.
I cut out more than I left in this afternoon, and my last pitiful attempts will be cut out again in the morning.
However, my resolve is strong and I shall prevail! Maybe not in class, but when I get home in my stitching nest, with my feet up and all my stuff around me, I am going to do me some fine 17th century stitching!
You heard it here first.