As you might remember, I started this crazy ass idea all the way back on July-something that I was only going to work on WIP's until November 1st. I will confess that I never in a million years would have believed that I would have actually stuck with this program (because I am notoriously unreliable in almost EVERYTHING I do), but here I sit with two weeks to go and nary a new start to be found! So a big WOO HOO for me for taking 43 whole years to learn what it means to keep a promise and be responsible for something other than panic, chaos, and disorder.
On Saturday we recovered from our Lima trip by putzing around the studio for a few hours. I was pretending not to watch the Notre Dame/USC game and Aunt Chrissy was pretending not to get irritated with me pretending not to watch the Notre Dame/USC game.
I shuffled some things around and made some lists and sighed deeply over some lovely things in my Autumn basket when it hit me square in the forehead: I had neglected to put Shepherd's Bush "Into the Night" on my WIP list! It certainly qualified, since it had a whole three sections completed and WIP means "Any piece of needlework that has at least one full stitch of thread in the linen, canvas, or congress cloth, no matter how insignificant the progress" (Sec. 3, subchapter 4). So after a big WOO HOO from the Peanut Gallery, I pulled it out and got it back on the q-snaps and now I'm ready to just rock it out until a week from Saturday. At the stroke of midnight on Halloween, I fully intend to jump all over Raymond Crawford's "Merry Christmas" canvas, which is being taught as a mystery class by the fabulous Ruth Schmuff of Bedecked & Beadazzled fame, but until then I can work on this and not feel like I'm missing an entire season of stitching. (This is especially wonderful since autumnal stitching is most definitely my very favorite in the whole entire world.)
Poor Stewey is not very happy with me today. The furnace has been on the fritz since Friday morning (I awoke to a whopping 47 degrees on the thermostat), but it can't be fixed until a new motherboard comes in. When I tried to explain this to him, he just huffed and said "It figures that the problem has the word mo-ther in it." Then he turned his back to me and sniffled into his blanket. Damn dog.
(*) This phrase comes from my friend, Rich Chialastri out in New Jersey, whose birthday is today. Happy Birthday, Rich!