This sampler may outlive me

Since the Life Expectancy quiz has put a period at the end of my life at age 95, I'm starting to question if I'll ever finish this monster. This large round motif ate up a significant part of last weekend.

That was the last round motif. All of the rest are more straightforward. Oh...do you think I'm implying that I'll finish it quickly? Well get that thought right out of your heads. Unless I suddenly become a deposed queen who gets to sit in a dreary tower with her attending ladies all day and nothing else to do but say "woe is me" and work on my needlework, I think we're looking at several more months before I can put this in the FINISHED pile.

Stitch night was a good night for working on Antiqued Sampler. All of the silliness didn't make for accurate counting, though, so I only finished the plant on the left.

The plant on the right was counted and ripped, counted and ripped. And so on. But its little base is finally in the right place and it's ready to rock.

See that cute pinkeep?  It's from Colleen, one of my Friday stitchers.  She brought them back for us when she went to the Celebrations show in Nashua this past spring and it's so darn cute.  It's mostly paper crafted, in case you paper-crafting readers were wondering.  That makes it very lightweight and I take it everywhere.  Also, you'll see that Colleen's name up there has a link associated with it.  So if you click on her name, you'll see that it leads to her blog!  Yes!  Another stitcher enters the blog world!  And a Pittsburgh stitcher at that!  So please pop over there and say hello and admire her stitching.  Especially the two SB stockings that she's just recently finished.  They're beautifully done and bless her for finishing eight of them.  Yes.  Eight.  With minimal cussing.

I'm so looking forward to our Labor Day weekend.  Dave and I plan to go where the wind blows us all weekend.  Even if it just blows us to our own front porch, that'll be just fine by me. 

I hope the wind blows all of you to pleasant places this weekend, too.

What are you, Amish?

Odd title, I know.  Read on.

Friday night's stitch group was loaded with over-the-top silliness and I haven't laughed that hard or that much in a long time.  When I'm laughing really hard, I'm not a big "Har-Har-Har" laugher.  I'm a body-shaking, tear-producing, silent laugher.  It's like the giggles start and then I can't stop and it just comes on me in waves. 

And there wasn't even any wine...

Anyway, because I had a long drive home, I thought about our conversations and our stitching for at least a solid hour and I went over again in my head everything that was said and all of the beautiful pieces being stitched.

Is this a trait unique to women?  It seems to me that after men leave each other, it's as if a door shuts in their head and whatever conversations they had are completely over.  Women, on the other hand, (or at least the women I know), will still be thinking about and replaying those conversations, sometimes for days. 

But that's a discussion for a whole 'nother day.

Getting back to last night... what I was going over in my head as I drove home, was the way that all of my stitching friends seem to get along.  Large groups or small groups, or even just two people sitting in a cafe with their stitching...we are so darn congenial.  Of course, every now and then - actually, very rarely - I run into a stitching person who makes me want to stab myself with a dull needle.  But honestly, in the past five years or so, since I've discovered the fun of stitching in groups, I've only met one person at a retreat who drove me crazy, and that's because I was spending the whole weekend with her and she never shut up.  Not even once.  It was five years ago and I can still remember every detail of her life.  Because she told us all, loudly and repeatedly. Over the course of the entire weekend. 

Sorry...I've veered way off my intended course.  Again.

SO - This has been on my mind for a long time, I've been thinking about WHY our stitching groups, large or small, work so well. Why do I treasure all of these interactions with stitchers?  They are all so diverse.  Some I see one at a time.  Some I see thirty at a time.  Some I see regularly.  Others I get to see once every couple of years.  Others I've never seen at all, except photos on their blogs. 

What is it about having a needle in our hands and knowing that others around us have needles in their hands that helps us get along so easily?  At first I was thinking that any group that gets together on a regular basis will develop this sort of congeniality, but I'm in other sorts of groups and if I really think about those relationships - well, it's just not as easy with them.

This is what I've come up with so far:

1.  One of the first things that stitchers do when they get together is admire one another's work.  Once the basics are out of the way - your name, where you live, etc - the next revelation is always that we want to know what you're working on.  So we all pull out our work and everyone comments graciously and generously.  It's easy to feel comfortable in a group when you've just been complimented.  It makes you feel important and worthwhile and makes your spirit feel generous, too.  I think that this activity - this mutual sharing and admiration - sets the stage for the entire interaction.

2.  In a casual stitching group, no one is made to feel responsible for the happiness of anyone else.  We just bring our own stitching and then your work is your work.  How else can I say this?  We have nothing to prove.  The pressure is off.  Among other groups, sometimes there's an unspoken undercurrent that makes us feel like we have to "do our part" or live up to a certain expectation.  Not so in a casual stitching group.  If you're not moving along quickly on a project, or even if you're blazing through your stash...well, we've all been there.  We may sympathize.  Or we may tease the heck out of you (good natured teasing, of course!)  But still, your work is your work and you don't need to worry about making any of us happy. 

3.  Having those needles in our hands seems to take the pressure off of us to generate conversation if we're not prone to talking a lot or if we just don't have anything to say at the moment.  Silences are a normal, healthy part of the get together.  How many groups can we say that about? 

4.  And when we're not silent, I've found that the sharing level of stitching conversation can be quite deep.  I used to think it was that we weren't looking each other in the eye and so people were more likely to say things that they wouldn't ordinarily say.  But now I think it's that Numbers 1,2 and 3 set the stage for stitchers to really speak from their heart.  I think it's all about developing that level of comfort so quickly.

So I think that's it, in a very large nutshell.  I'd also be curious to know what the rest of you think.  What dynamics make your group work?  And I use the term "group" loosely.  Define it however you'd like..an online group, a big organization or a buddy or two that you see occasionally.

And as for my title?  Ahhh.  It's just what happens in such a diverse group.  Sometimes someone will tell a story from their background and it's a little foreign to all of us, like the story one of the stitchers was telling us about a situation on her family farm.  So the group listened and nodded politely and we tried to understand it, because we genuinely like this woman and she's very sweet and interesting.  But just like the saying goes, "there's one in every crowd" who will speak up and say something that we were probably all thinking, but she put it out there in a funny way. 

"What are you?  Amish?"

And I dissolved into pee-my-pants laughter.  

I'm sorry...I simply can't do that story justice.  But it was hilarious.

One of those online tests

I get a Kim Komando newsletter every day, and a few days ago she had a link for calculating your lifespan.

It says I'll live to be 95.  Well, then.  I should have 40 years left.  So I had better get stitching.

More stitches in Antiqued Sampler

Finished the cute little row of crowns.

Added a bird

And renewed my love of bargello stitch!

Well, I sent my daughter off to her college this past Saturday.  Now the Great Fall Room Cleaning begins. 

You know, I never wanted to be one of those moms who said "no" all the time.  But I always felt like I was.  I'd be out with friends and maybe we'd be shopping and their kids would want this, that or the other thing.  Clothes, souvenirs, toys.  You know the stuff kids want.   And I was all, "No.  No.  Maybe later.  That's too expensive.  Not now.  No."  I spent years feeling like the bad mom.  And now that they are moving out, taking what they want and leaving me to deal with the rest, it's quite clear to me that my children have had way more than they ever needed.  How else can I explain the mountains of stuff I pull from their rooms and donate to St. Vincent DePaul every year?  Stuff that was oh-so important back then, but is only so much clutter now? 

Honestly, where does a parent draw the line?  And I'm not blaming the kids.  There are many things in there that I bought for them and have contributed to the clutter.  I guess it's just to say that if you read my blog and you're a parent to young or young-ish children, you don't have to feel guilty when you say "No" sometimes.  Don't worry.  When they go to college, you'll still have lots and lots of boxes to take to charity.

Tis the Gift and Dandy Dreams

Both are back from the framers!  Now I have some major rearranging to do on some walls.  But that's ok...there's nothing as delightful as hanging new needlework.

Tis the Gift - La D Da

Dandy Dreams - Silver Creek Samplers

I can scarcely believe that August is almost over.  And yesterday was so cool, not even making it to 70 degrees, it was as if fall had already arrived. 

To tell the truth, I'm glad to see the backside of August. I'm glad that I had some bright moments filled with needlework and my stitching friends, because otherwise, it was not a good month.  Waaaay too much drama for my tastes, and most of it was caused by my crazy neighbors.  They just have too much time on their hands and like to foment trouble.  Whereas most people avoid drama, they seem to thrive on it.  Lucky me, huh?  But school starts soon, and youth soccer will begin and they'll get busy again and then all of their bulls**t will probably end.  Phew. 

Martini Love

I love Adrienne Martini.  Almost any mom or wife can identify with her blog post today.  I love it. 

Of course, the woman in the drawing should also have eyes all around her head so that she could answer the perpetual question that starts, "Have you seen my....?"

Sometimes my Fridays are way too much fun

As a rule, I try really, really hard not to work on Fridays.  Sometimes it can't be helped.  It's just the nature of holding three part-time jobs and having kids (even though they're not little anymore).  I kind of have to juggle things this way and that.  But if I get it especially right, I can have a whole Friday without working. 

This Friday was one of those days and I got to spend the afternoon with two dear friends that I made as a result of blogging, Linda and Carol.  So, so much fun. Lunch, wonderful conversation and stitching made for a perfect afternoon.

Here's a quick aside and then I'll get back to telling you about my Friday.  If you read here, or any blog for that matter, and you don't have a blog but you're on the fence about starting one...just do it!  I've met so many nice people through blogging and made so many wonderful friends - I know you'll have the same experience.  Don't be shy.  And you don't have to be a genius or a world class writer.  (Clearly.  Have you gone thru my archives?  There's some very non-genius stuff in there.  Even anti-genius)  Writing may feel odd to you at first, but after a while it'll start to flow and you'll find it's very easy.  Like I said, just do it.

OK, back to Friday.  Linda had some great projects to show us, including a Hardanger snowman she received as a Fair and Square exchange.  (it's on her blog, if you click on her name up there).  She had started a neat project for an upcoming retreat, too (lucky girl... wish I was going!).  And Carol?  Well, she's a master-finisher when it comes to smalls.  If you've clicked on her name and browsed through her blog, you'll see her fine, fine work.  She let me take a picture...and there are more that she's recently posted over at Stitching Dreams.

Photo is a bit blurry, but her finishing is exquisite.

Then, oh my....look what tried to sneak its way into her stitching bag!  My poor deformed egg!

Please, please take me with you and adopt me and fix me!  I can't take this woman's ineptitude any more!

Ahhh, we had a good laugh.  One of us (ahem...Linda....ahem) started to sing the Sesame Street song, "One of these things is not like the others.  One of these things just doesn't belong..."  Really now. 

Sadly, the afternoon had to end and I said goodbye to these dear ladies.  But I was reasonably close to Michael's, where I had left off some framing a couple weeks ago, so I thought I'd call and see if by chance it was complete.  Not quite yet, but they told me it would probably be ready before 9PM.  Now, I knew that my Friday night group was meeting nearby, so I decided to hang out with them till 9. 

AND I picked up my framing at 9:00 - but I'm saving that for my next post!  Catch you then!

Life is changing...Again!

The swinging door in my house is swinging the other way this month, as both kids have started their treks back to college.  Well, one to college, the other to graduate school at UGA.  And we parents adjust, readjust and adjust again, don't we?

So we helped our son move to Athens, Georgia last weekend.  And when I say I helped, I really mean that I sat in the car and cried a lot of the time.  Oh yeah, I was a big help. "Here...let me help you make up your bed, and soak your pillow with my tears.  But by all means, don't feel guilty about moving away."

OK, I'M KIDDING.  Mostly.  I actually was very weepy.  It felt like such a big move - so far away, and let's face it, when someone spent his entire summer sitting on my couch, doing little else but providing fodder for my blog, he kind of became an household fixture, you know?  Except that John was an endeared and fun fixture.  He's talkative, smart, funny and he's grown into a very pleasant young man.  And did I mention that he can fix things?  Dave and I are hopelessly un-mechanical, so we're not quite sure which gene pool that came from.

Anyway, I'd be foolish to expect him not to go where he has the best opportunities to complete his education and to make his way in the world of work.   (Right?  Tell me I'm right.)  I've always thought that this area and its rural setting made it a nice place to raise children.  And I don't doubt that our schools and teachers and neighbors gave them a great start in life.  It's just a shame that the thing that led us to raise a family here - the rural nature of our county - is the very thing that makes it so difficult for them to remain here.

My daughter moves back to school barely a week from now, too.  This is a move that we're accustomed to though.  And that's not to say that we won't miss her...just that it seems much more normal.  But soon she'll be gone and each time my bare foot lands on some spilled cereal and crushes it into the floor, I'll think of her fondly.  

But what you're really here for is the stitching, right?  And very soon I'll have my stitching chair back in my sole possession again, and I hope to make great progress on every single WIP and UFO in my basket.  (Overly optimistic much?)  Because the only one I'll have to move out of my chair will be Dave and I'm bigger than him, so.....


My framing isn't back yet, but maybe after the weekend?  Meantime, I've stitched a bit on my Eileen Bennett sampler.  So far I've had long-arm crosses, montenegrin stitches and I don't remember what stitches I used in the crown. 

And look what else tried to sneak its way into the photo.  This PS mini card design.  I tried an egg-shaped finish for this PS mini, but did it as a stuffed ornament, rather than using a rigid mat board that was egg shaped.  Yeah....it's not so great.  All I can say is, pity the poor chicken that tried to push out an egg with this odd of a shape.

Chicken:  "Ouch!  What the....?  Why is it so sharp and pointy in places?  That's just not natural.  And what are those strings hanging off of it?  Nurse!  Drugs!  I need drugs!"

Close and Dear

Obviously I don't have one single new stitch of needlework to show you. 

Don't get me wrong - I have a list of projects as long as your arm and they're all staring at me every day as I sit by this computer and do my work.  I just can't get to them.  They're so near, yet so far.

Anyway - we went to the Pirate baseball game last night.  Ordinarily I love going to PNC Park.  It's an awesome ballpark and win or lose, it's usually a fun night.  But last night all I wanted to do was get out of there.  It was nice at first.  Then as the night wore on, it got so doggone hot and the breeze we had felt earlier in the night disappeared.  It felt like all of us in the crowd were just breathing the same air over and over again and I was reminded of my grandmother, who used to say, "Oh my, it's so close in here."

Like people were too close to you.  Like the air in the room was too close to your body.  People just don't use "close" in that way any more.

She also used to call things "dear".  As in expensive.  "Oh no, I can't buy that brand of coffee.  It's too dear."  She would have passed out to see the price of a large Pepsi - $5.75.  Beer?  $8.00.  That's some dear beer. 

So between the dearness and the closeness, we were out of there at the top of the seventh inning.  It also didn't help that the Buccos were losing 10-2...

Who is the mature one here?

Me:  Hey, I bought some of that Dannon greek yogurt you like.

Daughter:  Cool, thanks.

And the next day:

Me:  Did you eat that half container of yogurt I put in the freezer?

Daughter:  Yes...were you saving it?


Me - just barely beginning to whine:  Well, yeah.  I wanted it for my breakfast this morning.

Daughter - feeling contrite:  I'm sorry, I didn't know you wanted it.  I'll freeze another one for you.

Me - in a full whine:  But I wanted it now.  For my breakfast.  And it's gone.


Daughter:  I'm sorry. 

Me - launching into full martyrdom mode:  And by the way, quit eating all the half containers of yogurt anyhow.  I'm obviously saving them for later.  And stop dropping cereal on the floor.  And if you drop a berry, pick it up or it gets squished into the floor and stains it. 

Daughter - who has had enough:  I'm SORRY Mom.  Sheesh, what will you do if I ever do anything seriously wrong?

Me:  Silently hanging head in shame.

It's a good thing the college summer break is almost over.  Even I can't stand myself anymore.