I think life is simply a matter of merchandising. You take what you have and slap something shiny on it and suddenly it looks much better to the world. You stack things just so...you fold things just right....you polish and smooth and flatten and suck in and all is well.
Crappy furniture that the dog pees on? Put a vase or two on a shelf and you're freakin Pottery Barn. Bangs that seemed like a good idea at the time? Gel those suckers to within an inch of their very lives, and you're suddenly very hip and retro. (Let's face it, kids. NOBODY can rock the 80's bangs like I can). You weigh as much as a small building and have enough facial hair to grow your own wiglet? Slap on some mascara and...voila! You're an internationally famous uber super model.
(Oh wait. That last one is something that I do in order to convince myself that one must really go outside every now and then to face one's public and one mustn't do so with the idea that a burka really would be a better autumnal fashion decision than one's current wardrobe of eighteen year old sweatpants.)
But I regress...
Since the damn United States Postal Service hasn't yet employed the use of the USS Enterprise for its transporting of needlework orders, I had to pull something out of my stash for last night's stitching. Low and beehives, I found this Blackbird Designs chart that I had started forever ago:
Isn't it swell? When I started this, I decided to use only one ply. But after further consideration, I decided to beef it up a bit, and I'm going to go with two ply for the whole entire thing. (Yes, I'll have to frog and then re-stitch "heaven".) The linen is a very nice piece of 36 ct. "Days Gone By" from Silkweavers.
As you might remember, I have a real thing for the British artist Sam Toft. I have several pieces and hope someday to devote and entire room to them. Aunt Chrissy has gifted me with most of my collection, and on Friday she added two more:
I just can't enough of these, I tell ya. I have one of the biggest pieces hanging in such a way that it's the first thing that I see each day, and I can't tell you how much I get a kick out of Mr. Mustard and Co. And how could I NOT love Doris, the little Jack Russell terrier? (I tired calling Stewey by that name, but he wasn't too thrilled about it and decided to voice his displeasure by watering the drapes.) Damn dog.