Mistakes were Made

Since the rest of us are willing to live in a society (and wait to eat the pie), I'm going to send Maggie to live with Katrina. Good luck!

Things haven't been going so well on the stitching front. First, I cocked up the "H" on my marquoir; it's one stitch too skinny. Then I miscounted the "8" on my Willow Trees Sampler and now the 9, 0, "S" and "T" are in the wrong place. Then the dude told me that I should be more careful in my counting. What nerve! I'd clock him but he's so damn earnest. I suggested it might be best for him to save his advice until he starts stitching himself. All this counting isn't as easy as it looks, as you well know.

A few days weeks ago, CinDC sent me this ornament. She is not lovely but I think she is perfect as an illustration for the grandma stitching stories, which is why C sent it to me. So I've been waiting to reveal her (and apparently to thank my friend) until we had some old lady stitching references in the media. The foreign press has obliged!

First the Calgary Herald tells us about the opening of the show "Ninety-nine Problems but a Stitch Ain't One:"

If you think cross-stitch is just for the blue hairs of the ladies' auxiliary, then you'd be wrong. The cool kids have laid claim to this crotchety craft, taking the classic fonts and forms of yore and giving them a thoroughly modern makeover.

Then the Sydney Morning Herald reviews local bars. As in cocktail lounges. Apparently Syndney (itself named after an old man) has a sudden influx of bars decorated with stitching.

Grandma's Bar offers its own version of retro. The bar, in a dimly lit basement, gives off an opium-den feel as you descend the staircase. After spying all the mismatched retro furniture scattered about the narrow space, Grandma's begins to feel more like the set in That '70s Show.
Low-rise coffee tables and framed cross stitch have been sourced from op shops by Melbourne-bred owner James Bradley. His prized score? A wooden rocking chair, flanked by balls of colourful yarn and knitting needles. 

Bradley, who welcomes us warmly and shows us around, says we can take the knitting kit to anywhere in the bar if we'd like. But we decline; we've come for a drink.

At least the writer doesn't drink and stitch. (I want to go just for the jaffles*.)

Anyway, now that I've photographed her grandma-ness, I'm happy to pass on this little ornament to a good home. Leave a comment.

*Don't get too excited; it's just a sandwich run through the sandwich press.