They paid me some lovely compliments about...something related to how I look, and I blushed furiously and said thank you and wanted to crawl under the table. I was clean and had clothes on and had managed to run a brush through my hair, but ready for the prom? Not so much.
And then it happened.
They complimented my stitching. Miss Katy even used the word "workmanship", and I thought my heart would just burst itself right out of my old lady big top.
To be told that you are a good stitcher by a group of...amazingly expertly wonderfully perfect stitchers is better than being told that you look like the younger sister of Elizabeth Taylor and Sophia Lauren.
At least in my book.
I always knew that I had a streak of vanity in here somewhere, but I always thought it would be related to my job or my house or my ability to be the most socially inept person in a room full of socially inept people...but all this time it turns out that my vanity was lurking in my stitchy bag!
I promise you that this puffed-up attitude will go away the minute I pick up my needle this afternoon and start playing with Gertie (damn compensation), but for now I'm going to sit here and bask in the glow of nice things that were said about my ability to follow a chart and put thread to fabric. The vanity will be replaced quickly with humility, I'm sure...but for now it's just lovely to think that I might be getting something right once in a while!