July 25th, 2007

Needlework

Idiote Suprême

That's me. I can't believe it. I started cross stitch number five on July 4 and all the work I've done on it was a complete waste of the time. I didn't have it centered on the aida, so I have to start over! Again! I am going to switch to evenweave because I think it will look better. I am so ticked with myself it isn't funny. There is no way I'll have it finished in time for our anniversary in September. It looks like he'll get it as a Christmas present instead. Now I have to go buy some evenweave. Oh well, I guess it gives me an opportunity to change the background colour. I think it will look better with a slightly darker coloured background than the light oatmeal I've been using.

Maybe it wasn't all a complete waste of time. I mean, I did fine-tune the design significantly so it will go much more smoothly when I start again. It also allowed me to fine-tune the design I'm taking to the reunion. I guess I didn't waste all the time; just most of it.

Needlework

Disaster Recovery

Well, after last night's realization that I truly messed up almost a month's worth of work on cross stitch, I am much calmer now. The breakdown is over. The tears didn't spill; but they were darned close to the edge thanks to a heightened level of frustration.

So, today I went out and bought some nice Irish linen in a tea colour (reasonably dark). I think the coat of arms will look even better on the darker colour and on the linen as opposed to the aida. I suspect it might be a little more difficult to count threads in the linen; but quarter and three quarter stitches will be easier. So, tonight I will baste the 10 x 10 grid onto the linen before double and triple checking my placement. I don't want to go through this all over again.
caricature

Writer's Block: Bump In The Night

What are you afraid of?

Thunder storms. I don't know why. My Mom says I used to crawl into a ball under the covers in my bed and shiver and sweat. I am better now; but I still don't like them.

Heights, kind of. I'm not afraid of the heights themselves, or even of falling. Nope. I'm afraid that I will jump and try to fly. Rationally, I know I can't fly; but there is this little urge to try it anyway.

Embarrassment. I want to always appear competent and composed. I do not want to stand out for ridicule. Maybe it stems from being picked on in school. I don't really want to be noticed....and yet I really want to be noticed for being the best at something important. Strange contradictions. Who understands these things?