Well, Frank is finally dressed and almost ready for the big day. I'm not sure what any of you will think of the pattern that I chose for his coat (especially since it's the exact same pattern that I used for the background, but with minor changes), (I guess that would mean that it's not the EXACT same pattern now, wouldn't it?), but I like it and I suppose that's all that matters when it comes to my silly stitching. As for his hat....I like the woven effect, but I'm fretting over what to do with that jingle bell. Should I try to find a real jingle bell to affix, or should I use a metallic thread and some careful stitching to do the trick?
I'm stumped by his hands and how to achieve the outlines of his fingers. I futzed around with that for about two hours last night as I was watching a movie on the TeeVee, but I finally put the needle down and called it a day.
I think outlining this sucker is also going to be interesting, especially since I have never been a big fan of outlining/backstitching, so we'll see how this goes.
So I've been thinking a lot about blogging. About the reasons why I blog and whether or not this is just one big huge ego boost for me, or whether or not it might be my stupid little way of putting something out there in the world.
Turns out, it's both.
It's no secret that I am a spinster recluse who has never been very happy and/or popular in polite society. It's not that I don't like people or places or things, actually...it's just that I am at a loss as to why I need to be out in it to participate. Is it shyness? Lack of self esteem? Or just a really good case of agoraphobia that makes me want to stay inside my little hovel wearing pajamas and drinking dietCoke. Either way....I know for a fact that I am much better when taken in small doses and that if I'm ever elected Prom Queen you'll need smelling salts and a cold rag for my forehead , toot sweet.
So writing the blog has become an enormous exercise in vanity for me. I get to jump up and down, waving my arms, hollering "Look at me! Look at me!". And then I get to assault you with whatever crazyass idea or event or thing that's presently occupying my stupid little life. And, because I went to school (and somewhat paid attention), I know that I do this in a style that is at once both offensive to the English language, as well as filled with the most bombastically fantastic hyperbole that can wear on your very last nerve.
But it's my blog, isn't it? Isn't this supposed to be a place for me to blather on aimlessly, without thought or care as to whether or not I'm educational or entertaining?
I know that there are about a million different kinds of peoples on the big blue marble, and I know that most (if not all) of them are going to find me "a bit too much to take sometimes". But I'm not trying to gain membership at the cool kid's table...I just want to be able to listen in on a conversation or two to know that this "thing of ours" might just be the one place where I can let the proverbial chin hair down and have some fun.
Stitching is more than a hobby for me, thanks to my little sister Aunt Chrissy. It has evolved into a passion and obsession that makes me want to suck the marrow from the very bone of its existence. I love to read and learn and see and talk about and lust after and marvel at every stitch that every stitcher out there is kind enough to show me. I like to know what makes them tick...how they sit in their chair or wind their floss or dye their linen. I cheer them on when they are nearing the finish line and I empathize with their stitchy slumps as though they were my very own. In short...I think that any person who puts a threaded needle in their hand and attempts to push it through a piece of linen or canvas or Aida cloth or sheep's skin should be applauded and patted on the head for trying...never vilified or criticised that their work is "not executed properly" or that it won't win any awards when judged by "certified professionals".
I'm NOT a professional. Duh. I'm an idiot spinster stitcher who could just pee her pants over the sheer joy that is brought to her each day by the people she has been fortunate enough to "meet" through this here blog. I'm gobsmacked on a daily basis that there could be so many smart, funny, decent, and wonderful people who stitch. I'm thrilled that I get to peek over your shoulders and sit next to you on your Happy Chair as you do what it is that we do.
So from the very bottom of my very whacky heart, I say thank you for allowing me the pleasure of goofing off and for balancing the voices that tell me to just knock it the heck off already.
Stewey, however, would like to remind you that for every "You're so brilliantly funny, Spinster Stitcher!"...he has to find yet another way to bring me back down to earth, and that there are only so many hours in a day that he can complain about my eighteen year old sweatpants or my propensity for failing to scale Mt. Laundry. Damn dog.
Thank you for your time. That will conclude the "I just want to be loved and understood" portion of the program. We will return to our regularly scheduled programming tomorrow. Woo Hoo!
Oh, and a big fat P.S....not one cookie has yet to emerge from the kitchen here at Chez Spinster. I HAVE, however, discovered that Archway Peppermint Chip cookies make an excellent addition to daily tea time. Bone appiteet!