Saturday, February 18, 2006
My men and my stitching
I know that there are stitching men out there, but I also know that there are intelligent life forms outside Earth and I have the same explanation for both phenomena. With so many - countless, even - planets out there, there's bound to be at least one or two that spawned creatures like us. The same way, there are over six billion people on Earth, about half of them men. At least a few must like stitching! But my laments are not about them. Just the good old-fashioned, stitchmisunderstanding men in my life.
Let us start with the furthest one of my life, my ex-husband. Mostly because I don't like talking about him. He was a serious drawback for me, especially when it came to stitching. At that time I had all available cross-stitch magazines, but only a few shops carried proper fabric, so mostly I did traditional Hungarian embroidery. Every time he saw me stitching, he would ask "when are you going to finish that" like finishing a piece would be the only joyful thing about it! He also told me several times that I should stay away from starting larger pieces, because I have a tendency to leave them unfinshed. At the time I thought he was right. Well, duh, at that time I thought he was God and that is never healthy in a relationship. Now I know better. Now I know that just because I don't put everything aside until I'm finish, just because I like to stitch what I'm in the mood for and not just what I already started, it does not mean I will never finish it.
When I got married for the second time, I was sure this marriage will be much better. I married a long time friend, one who knows the best and the worst of me, one who's best and worst side is something I have been familiar with for several years and most importantly, someone, who I knew to believe in my abilities. He encouraged me to work on whatever I feel like. This is just one of the reasons why the D in DH will always mean "dearest". But he too is but a man, and there are certain things he cannot understand. Like collecting stash. Every time I show him a pattern he points out that I already have enough for the next 10-15 years. That may be true, but tell me ladies, did that ever hold you back? Me neither. :) Luckily, as I said, we know each other very well. So I always know what to tell him to keep his mouth shut. Like, "this one is for you, dear!" :)
I guess we, obsessed people tend to be sensitive about certain questions about our hobbies. A lady, who owns a St. Bernard told me, that everyone asks her how much that dog eats and it's really annoying! Garden lovers, like myself, tend to hate when we get a beautiful new plant, marvel at it, and then someone asks "and where are you going to put it? Is there enough space for it at all?" The question I hate most about stitching is - you guessed - "when are you going to finish that" or, nowadays, "when are you going to start working on it". DH gives me a lot of support though. (He is reading my blog, I must be nice. I never told him I was writing one, but 22 ms old DD betrayed me and opened this page on the browser while I was in the kitchen!) He even comes with me to the LNS. Puts a frown on his face whenever I show him something I want to buy, but at least he is there. And he knows me! Everytime he comes home and thinks I look nervous, he asks "did you get to stitch today?"
Let's get to the final man I wanted to talk about. Naturally, it's my dad. He is a typical dad. Whatever I do, he loves it and he's proud of it. But he too is but a man. Look at the picture I have attached. It's a half-done bunny with a hyancinth, a freebie by Ellen Maurer-Stroh. I stitch this one very carefully, as I do it as a part of an exchange, which means, it will be mailed to someone, who has a lot longer cross stitching past, and I want it to be flawless. Working on it, I feel the same kind of excitement one feels before a first date. And then... did you notice the small black spot above the flower? Well...
My glasses broke the other way. No big problem, only one of the little plastic thingies that sit on my nose broke off. Daddy, of course, wanted to fix it. He has a 50 year long tradition to fix stuff, even if he doesn't know anything about the broken thing. So he said, he'd clean the little thingies from all the dirt and fat out of my nose, something we never clean on our glasses. If you check carefully, there are some really small, tight parts on it. But nothing can get in a way of a Daddy! Now he sees nothing but the problem to be solved, everything else is irrelevant. So he looks for something small and pointy to clean the glasses with. What does he do? He picks up my stitching and takes the needle thrust in it, and cleans the damned dirty thing with its tip. AND THEN PUTS THAT BLACKENED NEEDLE BACK INTO THE FABRIC!
There's men and stitching for you.