I think that when the Nashville-bound passengers noticed the way I stitched, the dude paid a little attention. On the plane ride home from Don't-Mess-With-Texas, he watched me carefully then asked, "how come you always get the needle in the right hole?" Besides the fact that I don't always get the needle in the right hole, I have no idea how I do what I do. So that's what I told him. (I don't know if this is how everyone does it, but I sort of use a rocking motion to get the needle into the hole before I pull the thread through. Since Michelle asked, I might try to do a video, but I'm old and technophobic.)"Muscle memory," the dude says. "You are like the Barry Bonds of cross-stitch."
And you know, I am, right down to the steroids...but I take them so I can breathe. (And sometimes for immunosuppression.)
Speaking of baseball, my coworker and I have our tickets to the Phillies' Stitch n Pitch. Yay!
Just FYI on the flying with scissors thing: the TSA maintains a list. Scissors are the only sharps you can carry on. You still have to check the throwing stars, billy clubs, cattle prods, and lacrosse sticks. Cattle prods. Now there's an idea for getting people to stay in their damn seats!