Not a whole lot of stitching has happened thus far this week, but it certainly has been on my mind.
After I finished Cherry Berry on Sunday, I sort of puttered around for the rest of the day. When I finish something, I feel the need to organize the leftover materials and put the pages of the directions back in order and stash the leftover threads in case they might be needed in another project. And then I have to think about what I'm in the mood to begin next, so I must have picked up and put down half a dozen things before I went to bed.
On Monday, I drove home thinking about putting Tsubaki together, and decided that I'd start with the scissor fob. But then there were a couple of minor domestic disasters and several interruptions--so by the time I pulled out the project bag, it was almost bedtime and not a good time to start on anything.
Apparently I really needed to stitch, because I dreamed about it. All night long. I dreamed about Hannah Thornbush, and let me tell you, in my dream I was whipping through those bands. No needle was ever so electric.
So last night I pulled her out and started stitching.
My needle wasn't quite as electric in reality as it was in my dream.
There are some very small white satin stitches that weren't there before.
This is not a good project for Zen stitching.
Come to think of it, this may have been the project I was doing last year when my elbow blew out and I had to stop stitching for the longest month of my life.
So I put her back in her pillowcase for another time.
And then last night I dreamed I was stitching a beautiful night scene and was creating the Aurora Borealis with yards and yards of Kreinik size 4 braid. And in my dream, my cousin the architect had decided to do an installation with my design and he was using miles and miles of Kreinik size 32 braid.
I am not going to do either of those things tonight. I should be going to my sampler guild meeting.
I love going to my sampler guild meeting--it's one of my favorite things to do. However, the coworker who shares my corner of cube city came to work on Monday with a horrible cold. She proceeded to share her explosive sneezes with everyone on our side of the office because she believes she is vital to the turning of the world on its axis and therefore indispensable. She did stay home yesterday and today, apparently because this is turning into something resembling the flu more than an ordinary cold.
Not unexpectedly, late this afternoon, I started to feel a tickle in the back of my throat--then I started losing my voice. So I decided to stay home and mainline orange juice and dig out the echinacea and avoid spreading the plague.
Am I going to stitch? I think I'm going to bed. I'm getting more stitching done in my dreams than in reality.