Sunday, August 26, 2007
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Yes, absolutely! I stitch till I barely have enough thread to anchor, but more from not wanting to take the time to reload the needle than from being miserly.
What do you love to do that many people hate? What do you hate to do, but do anyway? This question was posted on July 12 by The Wagon.
This was a tough one for me, so I had to see what Renee wrote to give me an idea. I also love to do French knots and see how uniform I can get them. I would never use beads to replace them. As far as doing something I hate, I have a real rebellious streak, and I refuse to cave to anything I hate. Such as: remember the duplicate stitch that everyone was doing on sweaters to put designs on them? I rejected the idea, proclaiming it was a passing thing and wouldn't last. Sure 'nuff! Now we have the needle punch, and I refuse to get into yet another craft! My LNS used to have a sign on their window announcing classes on it. I notice it's no longer there.
Which project (finished or in progress) are you most proud of? Explain why. This question was posted on July 19 by Ish.
Mine is Paula Vaughan's "A Little Girl's Fancy." I had signed it up for the Rockome Counted Cross Stitch Show many years ago. I had received a 2nd place ribbon the year before, and when I started this piece, I had high hopes. As I went along, I began to have thread coverage and twisting problems, and it slowed me down so that I wanted to give up and cancel my piece for the show. I kept plugging along and finished it, though I hated every stitch. I knew when I finished that it was not winning quality, but with relief, I left it with my framer. She did a gorgeous job of picking the right mats and frame for it. I won nothing, but looking at that beauty over the bed in my guest room is pure pleasure. No one but me is aware of the things I sweated over.
Have you ever thought of getting a rider on your household insurance to properly cover your stash (some of us have quite an extensive stash that an average household policy wouldn't fully cover) in the case of some sort of damage to your house that would destroy/ruin charts, fabrics, floss, etc? This question was posted July 28 by Dani.
Good heavens, NO! I would love to have something come along and destroy all evidence of what I've spent and start all over.
How did you get started stitching? Was there a person that inspired you? This question was posted Aug. 15 by Jennifer.
I was at a baby shower way back when, and the mother-to-be opened a package of things with aida cloth sewn on and designs stitched over each little square. I was intrigued and asked about it. I already did tons of other types of needlework, so this "counting" stuff was something I had to try, and that was the beginning of the end. I was hooked.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
I passed out in my kitchen as I was pouring water into my coffee maker. I usually have enough warning to get to a sitting position so I can put my head down between my legs, but I felt it coming, but I don't remember another thing. I had the dishwasher door open beside me, and I apparently fell into it, knocking it clear out of the wall at the top. DH wasn't home, and when I came to, I managed to climb into my bed and couldn't find the phone to call 911. I just lay there, semi-conscious, slid back off the bed, crawled back to the kitchen, and managed to yank the wall phone cord so the phone came down. I got my dad and told him I was calling 911. He said he was on his way over. I passed out again on the floor before I could dial 911. My dad and DH arrived here at almost the same time. My dad told me later he had thrown on clothes without underwear and still had his house slippers on; he'd been ready to step into his shower when I called. Somehow they got me back into bed, and Richard told my dad he'd keep a close eye on me, so they hugged. and my dad went back home to finish his morning routine. Richard went down to our finished basement and heard me shuffling around in the kitchen again. I remember nothing, but he found me trying to take my daily meds, and again, I passed out. He caught me under the arms as I went down and lay me flat on the floor.
I heard him calling 911 for an ambulance, then everything was a blur till I awoke in a hospital room. There was talk about my blood pressure dropping dangerously low and dehydration. To tell you the truth, I don't think anyone really knew what was wrong. They pumped me full of fluids and decided not to give me my blood pressure med, then everything began returning to normal. They put an alarm on me to keep me honest because I had to have help going to the bathroom, and I was so full of fluid, I was going every hour---day and night. Got very little sleep. I've always had a rebellion problem, and twice, my alarm went off. The first time, I wanted to see if they were bluffing, and the 2nd time, I only sat up on the side of the bed while I waited for someone to take me to the potty.
The fact that I was finding huge injuries---bruises and abrasions all over me---was upsetting to me and quite painful, and I was beginning to feel as though I'd been in a car accident, but the shocker was when they haded me a mirror to see my face. My eyes were nearly normal, but no longer.
My shoulder, though not broken, is damaged badly, but I still don't know the verdict on that yet, and I'm not able to use it much. I'll find out more tomorrow at my doctor appointment.
My 94-year-old fmother-in-law fell and broke her hip the day after I got out of the hospital, and she looks better than I do. They pinned her together, and I think she's going to outlive me.
Have much catching up to do, but believe it or not, I managed to get some XS'ing done. Will post stuff later. I have to get around to seeing all the blogs whose authors have kindly visited mine. I can finally see out of my injured eye again.
Love you all, and keep those needles moving!