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.

Frustrating!

Last week, I started stitching the Fancy Work ornament for my BIL. I got the outline done, and started stitching the border pattern. It didn't come out quite right on the sides, but I could fudge it. Then I started stitching the top border. It is so way off! Argh! Must begin again...

Other short whinges:

1. In gathering the pearl cotton for the Shepherd's Bush stockings, I've now gone to three stores. Still need four colors. Will try store #4 tonight.
2. I know stocking shelves isn't fascinating work, but you'd think someone could bother to put the #3 and #5 pearl cottons where they belong. If you go to the AC Moore in Broomall, I fixed them; go before someone screws up my hard work. (Fortunately, I was smart enough to look for the #5 in the #3 area, otherwise I would have left with only two of the seven skeins I needed.)
3. I took my stitching out of my work bag in order to make the pearl cotton list, and forgot to put it back. No stitching on the commute. Very frustrating.
4. I am working for a drama queen (in this case, he's a man, but I like how it undermines him to call him a drama queen). He sees a piece, yells about how he hates it, then changes one phrase.
5. I hate those little cliche work aphorisms, but your lack of organization doesn't constitute an emergency on my part. I'd like to stamp that on some one's head.
6. Yeah, work's getting me down. People here operate on the putting out the biggest fire theory of work. Every time the wind blows, the fire shoots up somewhere else. So I'll spend a week writing, say, a president's message, only to have the wind blow. Then I only have a day to change it. Then someone tells me he hates it. And changes three sentences. I might be too good for this.
7. I'm too lazy to look for a new job. Laziness, not as bad as you think. As the dude said to me just this morning, "It's hard work to be this lazy. It takes ingenuity, planning, and a strong sense of self." Something like that.
8. I'm a volunteer executive board member for a club I'm in and, well, it's a disorganized mess. I'm a little tired of the people who never come to meetings telling us what we should do. I have an idea: if you want to be heard, show up.

Okay, not short. Will try to perk up this weekend...

SBQ: Whoops!

What is the biggest mishap you have had with your stitching material? If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know I have a penchant for leaving things on airplanes: Exhibit A and Exhibit B. And I've blogged before about washing something I made with overdyed floss. That's about enough for one post, isn't it?

Last night I took up Enchanted Alphabet after the dude and I proved what lousy homeowners we made by dealing with a mouse-in-the-house rather ineptly. (My house is clean, dammit!) This weekend we're taking back our casa, filling in cracks in the mortar and stuffing steel wool in holes. Anyway, only three more letters on EA (A, Y, Z) then it's back to the little girl and her attendant animals. Ten hours might finish this one!