Two More Dwarves

Add stuffy and sneezy to the other dwarves.

I think I'm getting a cold.

I am having a bowl of chicken noodle soup, a large glass of orange juice, and NyQuil for dinner. I am then going to bed.

Because I have to get well by Saturday. We have a command performance (meaning family) wedding to attend.

And if I gave up the Textile Symposium at Winterthur this week-end for this damn wedding, I'm going to go to the damn wedding!

Seven Dwarves

I woke up this morning crabby, cranky, grouchy, grumpy, ache-y, dopey, and ill-tempered.

I was seven dwarves all rolled into one.

I did warn Dearly Beloved as well as my assistant at work and the head of the department, so everyone has given my wide berth today. Actually, I got a lot done as a result. Hmmmmmm . . .

But I think it's a good thing that all I plan to do tonight is work on more miles of nun stitch.

Three Down, Three to Go

We spent Saturday visiting Mother so there wasn't much stitching done. But yesterday I decided I was going to stitch all day and, by golly, I did.

That vine on the left that I pulled out three times?  It still isn't quite where it should be, but I decided that perfection was getting in the way and left it where it ended up on the fourth try. After all, nobody is ever going to know except the whole world that I just told--and since this is definitely a first-world problem, I doubt anyone is going to take my needles away and kick me out of the tribe.

I've now completed three of the six pieces that need to be stitched and I think I'm going to continue on with the next three. I am going to avoid thinking about starting or picking up an already started project--I'm really so very close to getting all the bits done that I hate to stop at this point.

If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you may notice that I am going off my usual path big time.

I'm stitching this in hand.

I know. Shocking, right?

There are nun stitches galore--which are easier worked in hand. There are the buttonhole flowers that require that the linen be rotated--which is easier worked in hand.

So I'm working in hand.

And wondering if I'll ever get all the creases and wrinkles out when it's time to put it all together.

Hurricanes

This was the post I was planning to publish on Friday, when other things happened.

Because of the support I've received, both publicly and privately, I've decided to continue to blog.

Thank you for your comments.

We live inland. We do not live anywhere close to a coast, unless you count a big man-made lake as having a coast. Yet we have been impacted by both hurricanes that have devastated the areas where they made landfall.

I don't want to minimize the tragedy caused by either storm. The loss of life, of homes and businesses, of ways of life enjoyed by generations cannot be understated.

But we've been hit by both in varying ways.

Florence was like the old college friend, or the Army buddy, or the elderly relative who comes for a visit and just doesn't know when to go home. She settled herself down on top of the state and rained and rained and rained. So we had trees falling over because the saturated ground couldn't hold onto the roots any longer, and we had localized flooding. Here, it wasn't horrible, but it was unpleasant.

Michael came from a different direction and still barreled through. He was more like a big bully, hitting and kicking and stomping everything in his way. We had periodic heavy rain and high, gusty winds, and we were multiple states away from where he came ashore. Trees were falling everywhere and taking down the power lines with them.

So I was sitting at work on Thursday,  composing a diplomatic response to a question on my laptop, when the lights went off. And came on. And went off. And came on. And went off.

Well, it was fairly close to the end of the work day, so we were told to pack up and leave while the batteries on the security lights in the stairwells still worked. To be honest, even though I was upset by losing my eloquent and convincing response, I was delighted. Any time there's an additional hour to stitch available, I'm all in.

So I trotted on home.

To discover that our power was out, too.

Well.

Phooey.

Dearly Beloved had been to the grocery store and bought forty bazillion chicken breasts that were on sale. When he got home and found the power was off, he got himself to the nearest convenience store and bought ice--the man has flashes of brilliance--and threw two bags into the frig with the chicken.
(although the chicken was cold when the power came back on, he spent Friday cooking all forty bazillion chicken breasts, then putting them in the freezer. We're going to have a lot of chicken in the next few weeks)

And then the mail came.  And the light was too dim to enjoy any of it.

I got the latest Frostings Box from Thistle Threads. The colors are divine and the twists and textures fascinating.

I really wanted to sit down and read every word on every page, but it was getting darker by the moment. Yes, we have candles and flashlights, but since we didn't know how long the power would be out, we wanted to conserve resources.

So I went to bed at 7:30.

I haven't done that since I was about four years old.

That was a very long time ago.

Upsetting Day

A designer whose work I have long admired and whose projects I love to stitch contacted me today to tell me that unscrupulous individuals were using my photographs to stitch her project.

I am heartsick that her work has been stolen and devastated that sharing my enjoyment in stitching her designs has enabled someone to behave in such a reprehensible way. As she requested, I have removed all the photographs of the project in question, and will not share photos of her work in the future.

Earlier this week, I had decided to try to blog much more frequently than I have been. I've realized that the more I blog, the more I stitch, and the more I stitch, the more I blog.

After today, I'm just not sure I want to continue.

Going Backwards

Last night I worked on the vine on the left of the back of the needlecase:

But, you say, there is no vine on the left side of the back of the needlecase.

There was. Apparently I could neither count nor read a chart last night. After I had ripped everything out twice, I thought that surely the third time would be the charm.

It wasn't.

That's when I gave up and went to bed.

Tonight I'm going to stitch a bird, and make up my mind who my precious loves are (Merry put her granddaughters' names in that spot--and, BTW, The Flash is ten today--which I absolutely refuse to believe--he should still be four) and then maybe, just maybe, I'll try to put the vine in again.

I really do know my ABC's

You would have thought I would have been working away on this year's ornament from Rachael Kinnison.

You would be right if I had a free slate frame.

Which I don't at the moment.

Now it is possible to remove something from a slate frame . . . NOT!!!!!  Once I have something mounted, laced, tightened, and set to go, it stays on the slate frame until all the stitching is done. So that means I need to get something finished.

The two prime candidates are the Gentlemen's Nightcap and Rachael's Florentine Ornament, and they're both on my list of current projects. The only problem is that I do better with natural daylight to work on those particular pieces. As I do not believe my employer would be very understanding if I haul in frames, threads, and frame stand in order to work on those projects during working hours, that means they have to wait for the week-ends.

So I've decided to work on smalls during the week and slate frame projects on the week-ends for a bit until I figure out something else.

Last night I started the needlecase for Merry Cox's Sweet Little Blossoms. Because I so love working letters (insert sarcasm font) I decided to do the side with the alphabet first. I had almost finished when it was bedtime.

With luck, I'll get the letters done tonight and can go on to the blossoms.