Day Four: The Mystery of the Locked Door*

The story behind the title can be found at the end of the blog . . . 

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and so we had to travel home again.

There was still needlework to do. I brought my travel piece with me for the evenings of stitching in the lobby after class and to work on at Baby Girl's. And progress was made on the trip.

I'm working on Joanne Harvey's Imperial Yellow Queen Stitch Needlecase--quite an impressive name!--which is based on a wallet from the late 1700's. It has a few very good qualifications for a travel project:

• 28 count linen. I generally work on 36 or 40 count linen. After that, 28 count looks like burlap! So it's easier to stitch when the light is good but not optimal.
• Just one stitch. It's all Queen stitch, which I actually like to do.
• A fairly easy pattern repeat, so I'm not tied to the chart for almost every stitch.

It's back in my bag again, ready to go for the next trip, which will be in about 10 days.

Yes, I'm taking two workshops in one month. I'm afraid I'm going to be very spoiled by this.  Oh, to be a lady of leisure and able to wander from one workshop to another!

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We loaded up the car fairly early in the morning, hating to leave but knowing we had to go.  Baby Girl decided to do one last sweep of the room. I was waiting at the bottom of the steps, leaning against the car, when I realized she had been gone for longer than it should have taken.

I was aware of a door rattling somewhere, but it was still a little windy and there were other people about, so I didn't give it much thought.

Then I heard my name called from above. Baby Girl couldn't get out of the room.

I hauled myself back up the stairs to our porch. Baby Girl was on one side of the screen door, I was on the other, and she couldn't get out. The latch wouldn't open.

I have had many years of beach trips and mountain trips and stays in various beach houses and mountain cottages. I have learned that salt and ocean spray can either corrode or coat door locks and latches, and that damp mountain air can cause doors to swell and stick. So I have knowledge of how to handle this kind of problem--I pushed in the button on the door and lifted just slightly at the same time, and lo and behold, she was freed!

As she stalked past me, she said, "This is going to show up on the blog, isn't it?"

And so it has.

Day Three: And the Rains Came*

On the second day of class, we practiced spiral trellis:

And that is mine.

We also went over the rest of the stitching and finishing directions, and Betsy demonstrated her cording and tassel making techniques.

And then class was over.

I hated to see it end. There isn't anything better than a face-to-face class, and I always enjoy Betsy's classes. I know she's ready to retire but I don't think any of her faithful followers are. It sounds like we have a couple more years before she stops teaching and starts working on her stash.  She has her teaching schedule on her blog so there are opportunities before she retires.  I plant to take advantage of those opportunities.

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I looked at the weather forecast for Ocean City early in the week, and there was some mention of lower temps and the possibility of rain for Sunday. "OK," said I, "No big deal. Throw the umbrella in the car."

HA!

The temps dropped into the 50's and the rains poured and it looked like a gale blowing outside.

I didn't have a windbreaker. I didn't even have a sweater. I had sandals but no real shoes.

I got a little damp and a little chilly. I survived. I also took a nap after class, partly to get warm again.

I have learned my lesson and will bring storm gear from now on. Even in June.

Day Two: The Case of the Hard Cheese*

The story behind the title is at the end of the post.

I went back to the room after the first day of class with something not only stitched, but finish-finished!!!!

I had done most of the stitching prior to class, but we did the twelve eyelets in the morning, and put it together in the afternoon.

That sounds so simple, but let me tell you, I used things I've never used to make this happen. One of the goodies in the goody box was a pretty lethal looking awl--Baby Girl mentioned that you could use it as a weapon if necessary--and we used that to set up the stitching part. And then we used a hole punch in the assembly process. 

It's also nothing short of amazing that I did this in class. If you've followed this blog for any length of time, you know I don't stitch much in class, and I require an almost Zen-like environment and great expanses of time to do any finishing. The fact that I did both is a testament to both Betsy's teaching skills (laid back and nonjudgmental) and the whole atmosphere at Salty Yarns.

I was very, very happy at the end of the class day.

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And now to today's mishap.

I had gone down to the lobby for breakfast and had my Frosted Flakes. Then I thought that perhaps I needed a little more protein than the milk in the cereal to start the day .

Baby Girl and I always bring snacks and stuff, so I decided to have a little piece of cheese. Despite the title, it wasn't hard cheese--it was a little chunk of sharp Cheddar.

Quite unexpectedly, I found something rock-like in my mouth. What in the world?  So as delicately and in as lady-like manner as possible, I fished it out--and it was part of a tooth. I had broken a tooth off from bottom to gum.

Granted, it was one of those teeth that was more filling than tooth (the result of a childhood without fluoridation), but it was quite surprising.

Even more surprising is that I haven't had a twinge.

I just have to remember not to grin at anyone until it gets fixed.

Which, based on my dentist's schedule, won't be until July, unless there is a cancellation between now and then.

Just call me Snaggle Tooth.

Day One: The Revenge of the Dead Deer *

* The story behind the title will be at the end of the post . . . 

I've had some trouble with my stitching and blogging mojo of late, to the point I was thinking of hanging up my needles and closing down the laptop for awhile.

Then Baby Girl and I trekked to Salty Yarns for a class with Betsy Morgan.

One of the other participants said that Salty Yarns is her happy place, and I have to agree. I've been reinvigorated and plying my needle more than I have in a couple of months since we came home.

And this is just part of what was in the goody box we received when we arrived:

And the opening reception was lovely, and our room was great, and it was a delightful end to what started out to be an . . . interesting . . . day . . .

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If you are interested only in stitching, you can stop reading now.

While Salty Yarns is my happy place, and Baby Girl is always happy to have a beach trip, we experienced a series of unfortunate incidents. They didn't intrude on the pleasure of the trip--more than temporarily--but it got to the point that we started wondering what might happen next.

So, our trip north . . .

We had decided to do whatever it took to avoid the mid afternoon traffic near the Navy Yard in Norfolk, and that meant that Baby Girl woke me up at 4:30 and told me to get my keister in gear. We had the car loaded and were pulling out at 5:18. It was dark. It was very dark.

But we got on the road and on our way, We watched the sun rise. We talked and laughed.

We go cross country for a bit to avoid some of the highway and traffic thereof, and we like to ride the Jamestown Ferry--so we were toodling down a two-lane country road when we came upon the squished remains of a deer in the road. The very squished remains. Baby Girl thought the car would straddle the remains. Not so much.

There was a clunk, and then there was that ominous thwap-thwap-thwap that signals doom.

We had a flat tire.

At the first opportunity (someone's driveway), we pulled over, unloaded the trunk, and dug out the spare and the jack and the tools. I was impressed by Baby Girl, who was very competently jacking up the car and getting the tire changing underway when she hit a roadblock. The lug nuts were very, very, very secure.

I was getting ready to put my not inconsiderable weight into seeing if I could help turn the wrench when this lovely, lovely, lovely gentleman stopped and took over. He got everything taken care of expeditiously, refused payment, helped us reload the car, and sent us on our way.

Our adventure wasn't quite over--we'd already decided we would find the closest place that sold tires and get the flat replaced because those little spare tires are not intended for highway driving--when the sensor on the car indicated that the other tire on the same side had low pressure.

Could it be a slow leak? We only had the one spare . . .

So Baby Girl slowly and gingerly drove the 26 miles to the next town that might be large enough to have a place that sold tires.

And we found the place.

And they found that they didn't need to replace the tire. It could be patched. And so it was. Then we discovered that the proprietor of the store has a daughter who lives one street over from me. And we all talked about what a small world it was.

By the way, the tire was punctured by a four-inch long piece of deer bone.

We were asked if we wanted it as a souvenir.

We declined.

The rest of the trip was uneventful.

My thread is possessed.

I decided to start working on one of the discs that needs to be embroidered for one of Amy Mitten's Winter Casket toys.

To begin, you have to work a series of loops for the outside edge of the disc. You are warned that the gold thread needed for this is a little persnickety and you need to only unreel about a foot of thread. The thread should then be secured with a bit of tape to keep the spool from unreeling more.

OK, not a problem--found the masking tape, unreeled the first foot of thread, taped the spool and started on my loops.

After a little bit, I needed to unreel more. So I unstuck the tape so I could start winding off the thread.

And then something weird happened.

The spool literally leapt from my hands, flew four feet away, spiraled and twirled, hit the floor, and rolled.

All I could do was stare for a minute. Then I realized that Dearly Beloved was staring, too.

Said he, "I've never seen anything like that."

Now, it could have been my fumble-fingers--I am a noted klutz--but I swear I just untaped the end of the spool and it hurtled itself into space.

Anyway, you're supposed to use a continuous thread for this motif so I didn't want to cut the thread. That would have meant starting over, and I was having enough trouble.

I spent the next hour carefully rewinding the spool, working out the kinks and twists and re-taping the thread to the spool every few feet.

At that point, I needed to assemble the lasagna for dinner, so this is as far as I got on the disc:

After dinner, I wasn't quite sure I wanted to tempt fate, so I pulled out Fragrant Fragaria and added more leaves and some strawberries.

Ironically, it took less time to get all this stitched than it did to re-roll the spool.

Teeny tiny basket

I started the first motif on the needle roll for Frangrant Fragaria last night. I was beginning to think I'd never get to do any embroidery all week.

I did work on Frances Burwell for a little bit Monday night. I got a row of Montenegrin stitch worked across the sampler. Since all you'd see is a thin blue line, I didn't photograph that.

Tuesday I mounted the gauze on muslin so I could start stitching this project. That took all evening.

Wednesday was our EGA chapter meeting. We had a lecture on Contemporary Embroidery. I have no problems with the topic--an art has to evolve or it dies. I had a little problem with the attitude of the presenter. For me, needlework is a passion. It doesn't have to be a crusade for it to have value.

Thursday night was bill-paying/checkbook-balancing/budgeting. I really hate adult-ing.

And then we finally reached Friday.

I had a very early morning. I woke up at 3:30 a.m. and could not go back to sleep--so I went to work drowsy. We had a storm system move through during the night and the power was off in the building . . . so there was a four-flight trudge to my floor. The wonky knees and Achilles tendon were not happy with that. Then the lights came back on, and apparently the power surge knocked out the AC system. Nobody was happy with that.

Between the short night and the heat and humidity in the building, I was about to faceplant into my keyboard. So, despite the fact that I have been diligently working to reduce the amount of caffeine in my intake (I need a wee bit more blood in my caffeine stream), I hit up the drink machine. It woke me up--way too much. Can you say buzz?

So that is how I could come home and stitch a tiny basket on 40 count silk gauze. In no time at all.

With a three-day week-end, I could stay with this. Or I could do what I've been thinking about for several weeks. I could get the rest of the embroidery done--if I'm very industrious--on the Winter Casket Toys.

Or I could alternate, depending on mood and inclination. I think I'll do that.

Christmas in May

Last month I did the program for the local EGA chapter. It was my quick-and-easy way to put Christmas ornaments together. I had a stack of them from three years ago, Barbara Jackson designs I bought at Haus Tirol in Williamsburg. As usual, I stitched them, got to the finish-finishing point, and then  . . . wandered off to do something else.

So, I used one ornament for each step in the process, which meant I had four semi-finished ornaments hanging around.

Yesterday I didn't have enough functioning brain cells to do anything complicated but my hands needed to do something while I recuperated from the previous day's disorder.

And that is how this group of ornaments were finished:

I thought I might do some more finish-finishing tonight, but I started thinking about samplers when I went on my after-work walk around the neighborhood.

So Frances Burwell is out of her pillowcase and going to get her turn in the rotation.

We'll see if I can remember how to stitch reversibly.