Stitch stitch stitch

I am happy to report that I did very well this weekend stitching my little fingers to the bone on the afghan. I did all I anticipated in Friday's message and more (all but two leaves and one flower). I'm sure this square will be done by Thursday. . . if I decide to fly with it. I'm not sure about this. It's big, the project bag is big. Stitching with the afghan flowing on to my own dirty floor is one thing, but onto the floor of a nasty airplane? And I don't think I'll get that much stitching done when we're at my cousin's for Thanksgiving: she has adorable girls that must be showered with feminist enthusiasm and auntly love. (My aunt and mother are always saying the girls will be models--tall and lovely and photogenic--so I always try to remind them that they can play basketball or volleyball and be doctors or other well-educated types. What can I say? It's my calling.) OTOH, I can envision lots of reasons that I may end up completely bored in airports. I'll see how the packing goes.

Just Do It!

Well, I'm very proud of myself because for two consecutive nights I've been working on the afghan. I'm doing the camellia square. I'm working on the leaf. I hope by the end of the weekend, I'll have finished the stem and leaf and I'll be working on a flower. Usually the flowers are the "good part" because of the vibrant colors. The first two colors I'll use on this flower are ecru and lighter ecru. Ho-hum. But it's going, it's going... We have to focus on the positive.

In Christmas gift news, I've finished the last of the sweatshirts, started Stephanie's scarf again, and decided what I'm going for Auntie Em.

A new friend wrote to me snail mail to tell me that Julie Ruin has a song with the chorus, "You make me want to . . .you make me want to . . .you make me want to crochet!" I'm not sure anything would make me want to crochet, but if you've got a young, feminist, punkster crocheting friend, you might want to consider the eponymous Julie Ruin cd for Christmas.

The Afghan Obsession

Okay, so you know I'm uptight about not stitching the afghan, and there's a reason, dammit. Most stitchers know how much time and effort it takes to stitch projects. And you also know that you always take on more projects than you can get through--there's always the last minute substitution of a bought-gift because you couldn't finish the made-gift. But, if your stitched-gift is for a stitcher, sometimes you can get away with giving them the half-finished piece and promising to have it done "soon." My mom always gets the promises. (She used to own a quilt store.) Now she is having the 60th birthday bash of a lifetime. A couple of her friends died, rather young, this year and she doesn't want to see her old friends only at funerals so my ever-vain, face-lifted mother is dispensing with vanity and telling people her age. She's inviting several hundred people. Four years ago, I started this project thinking I'd have plenty of time, but lots of marriages, babies, and other projects intervened. And now I am two squares behind my schedule. And am half way to the next deadline and I haven't started the next square (camellias). My ultimate do-or-die deadline is the first weekend in April. Fortunately, I have knotted all the fringe on the afghan, so there'll be no last minute finishing. I do, however, have to complete the project! I have to figure out a way to get back into it. I was doing so well, completing 4 blocks in 12 weeks. Now I've got about 6 weeks of NOTHING. I think I'll move on to the camellias and try to have it finished on time. Then, I'll keep going on the schedule. I'll have some time at Camp Wannasew to work on it, and a few weeks at the end that were built in for just such a fiasco, to go back and complete the backstitching on rose gallica and then the whole of the hydrangea. It's manageable. The problem is the rest of my life! I've almost finished Christmas shopping/gift making, but it always seems like I've got stuff to do! But I notice that the bloggers I read regularly seem to be having trouble keeping up lately--it's just that time of year--we're all busy!

Not dead yet. . .

I've been really busy at work, and not so good about accomplishing anything on the stitching front. It makes me feel guilty to write when I'm not stitching. I just wish that made me stitch more rather than simply making me avoid posting!

As promised weeks ago, The Tulsa scissor incident: when I went to Camp Wannasew last March, I had a lovely pair of scissors in a metal chatelaine that my mother bought me for Christmas. While there, I purchased many things, among them a Ewe and Eye kit that came with scissors. One of the projects we learned that weekend was finishing small projects as a stand-up cube. Like this. The cube is sewn together, and because we needed to do some cutting, they gave us a pair of full-sized shears. Because I was flying with two expensive pairs of scissors, I was so careful to remove everything from my stitching bag when I packed, while carrying on the greatest amount of stash possible, so I could spend my time fondling*. Or so I thought. So we're going through security in the Tulsa airport and the screener says, "looks like we've got some scissors in here." But it couldn't be possible! My stomach sank, and I wailed, "no, no, no, no, no!" MB tried to comfort me, and the screener said, "There's a place where you can mail them, right there." But I didn't want to mail them. I wanted to be able to play with them the moment I got home! Meanwhile, the screener had found them, and he takes out this whopping huge pair of shears. It was so funny, because I had expected him to pull out the tiny scissors--you can see forgetting those when you pack, but shears? I started laughing when he held them up, partly in relief. "Take them home to your wife," said I in my most generous but apparently, and suddenly, sexist spirit.

*Fondling, it's not like molesting children, but MB and I started using the term at the Spirit of Cross-stitch Festivals after our binge-spending. It involves bringing all your new acquisitions to a place where you can spread them out, usually a hotel room with two queen-sized beds. You take everything out and spread it around you while you sit on the bed. You then take turns showing your new things. Then, you open up the packages and take out the different bits and bobs and play with them: stroke the fabric, sort the flosses, touch the unique fibers, spread the flosses adn beads out on the fabric, etc. You know, you've done it, you just didn't call it that.

I've suspended the comments feature while I decide what to do about it. Thanks for understanding. Of course you can e-mail me at annavsxsATyahooDOTcom