This #&@$*#&-ing project is causing me waaaaay too much angst to qualify as a pleasant pastime anymore. With each block I am increasingly angry that I decided to do this damn thing, and I just want to chuck it all and start something new.
I confess...I was drawn in by the pretty picture on the cover and my heart swelled with national pride as I daydreamed about me sitting in the Happy Chair cheering the US on to victory while happily stitching away. I imagined the crowd's roar as the piece was presented for framing, and I drooled over the thought that every single person who entered Chez Spinster would be agog over the amazing piece of stitchy-ness hanging in the hallway. Hells Bells, I even thought of dedicating a whole new wing to this piece, heretofore called the "Spinster Stitcher Goddess Project That Is The Most Wonderful Thing On The Planet" wing.
I should have just read the damn thing, and then I would have realized that this is NOT a stitch guide, per se. It's a pretty picture of a flag, a list of threads that the author used (which, by the way were a bloody $#&%^ fortune!), and then 247 stitch "suggestions" that you can put in the boxes. With all due respect to Ms. Donegan, I was kinda' hoping that I'd get a little more direction for a piece of this size, but, then again, I am extremely high maintenance when it comes to "stitching it correctly".
I'm thinking that if I would have started with the painted canvas then I'd be standing on the podium clutching those daffodils and kissing a medal. But as it is, I'm standing in my driveway clutching my fists and kissing nothing.
Maybe I should just have a cocktail and go with the flow. (That would be swell if I cocktailed and went flow-wise). As I mentioned in a previous post, I am so determined to keep going on this because I really AM the type of person who says "screw it" and quits at least eleventy-seven times a day. This thing represented a new leaf for me. (You would think I could have picked an easier thing to work on, like nuclear fission or folding the clothes in the dryer without needing an act of Congress to do so, but this is me we're talking about.)
I'm chalking it all up to PMS.....Project Mental Strain. A few Midol and I should be just fine. Let's just hope the judges show pity on me.
Stay tuned, loyal viewers. The final decision will be handed down within the next 24-hours. In the meantime, Stewey and I are heading over to the pool to see the teeney weeney bathing suits on the mens' synchro diving teams. (Geeze, Louise...those things give "tuck" a whole new meaning.)
"I can't take it anymore. Maybe if I just lie here quietly, she'll go away."