Friday, October 30, 2015

WTF Friday: The count down

Duly noted.
About a month ago, I spent the day with DZ, my oldest BFF (can you say 5th grade?). She was hooked up to various IV lines for her bi-weekly dose of chemo -- and I was posed to learn the fine art of counted cross stitch.

May God have mercy on our troubled souls.

Okay. I'm a quasi-crafty person. I know my way around a glue gun. I've put together a seasonal wreath with the best of them. And back in the day -- when I had the eyesight of an eagle (albeit a very nearsighted eagle) -- I did crewel and cross stitch work, but I always eschewed counted cross stitch. Because, well, it involved, counting. 

To put this in perspective: DZ is the math-science part of our friendship equation. I'm the wordy variable (who's been known to draw on a occasion, too). We bonded in 5th grade while working on posters for a school book fair contest themed "Swing into Books." (Is "theme" a verb? it is now) .

Our desks were across from each other, and I was cutting out about a bazillion felt leaves for a Tarzan-oriented creation. I believe DZ decided to inventory each one and calculate how many leaves could be produced from a 12 x 12-inch piece of green felt. When we discovered our mutual love for the local bookmobile -- it was destiny: We were made for each other!

As a result, given our different skill sets, it's no surprise that, over the years, DZ has gravitated to crafts that require organization and precision, becoming a skilled baker, quilter and counted cross stitcher.

And I blog (not very faithfully these days, I'm afraid). . . . and do yard art.

But back to our counted cross stitch lesson. My first assignment was a bookmark. Within 10 minutes, I had an impossible wad of tangled thread on the back of my project. With the patience of a saint, DZ carefully excavated through my counted cross stitch folly and got me back on track. Fast forward another 10 minutes -- another bird's nest. Again, DZ to the rescue.

Interesting aside: The vast majority of counted cross stitchers don't use the F word. They should. And, if I have anything to do with it, they will.

But once DZ got the cross stitch boat righted the second time, I kind of got the hang of it. Feeling pretty full of myself at the end of our session, I announced:

Note to The Mom Unit, My Date and The Kids: Do not read the next part of this. 

You have been warned.


Note to The Mom Unit, My Date and The Kids: You can start reading again.

DZ smiled and nodded benignly, gracefully hiding an urge to wrap one of her IV lines around my neck.


So. I am just finishing up my second project and will now share several counted cross stitch take-aways in closing:

1. Counted cross stitch is a contact sport. It involves sharp things like needles, people! Sharp things that find your fingers -- and d.r.a.w. B.L.O.O.D. So, therefore, counted cross stitch is also a blood sport. Make sure you're up-to-date on your shots before tackling that next bookmark.

2. Counted cross stitch is kinky. Christian Grey, take note. My counted cross stitch projects have introduced me to more knots than you'll ever master in three lifetimes.

So rooky, Christian. So very, very rooky.
(Thanks, Google Images!)
And by the way, Christian, you really haven't really experienced bondage until you've self-stitched two fingers to a sampler that reads "Home Sweet Home."

3. And finally: There IS room for the F bomb in the rarefied world of counted cross stitch. Plenn-nn-tty of room.

Just ask My Date.

1 comment:

  1. I laughed through the whole post. That is so like me, too!