And, of course, a Christmas ornament to stitch.
I couldn't stand it, I had to work on it, so I jumped right in. No basting (I may be sorry later) and not nearly enough tacks, so everything is slightly cattywompus. I do not believe it will make it to the tree this year, but at least it will be stitched. As soon as I go upstairs and find another box of tacks--I can't take the cattywompus aspect any longer.
Assuming, of course, that I don't succumb to temptation and start this:
Nope, not going to happen--I'm going to get Dearly Beloved to wrap it up and put it under the tree. That means I can shake it but I can't open it.
At least, not until Christmas.