I was to try out a new activity today. One of my commenters had suggested rock hunting. Find something interesting and write about it. Since it stormed this morning, I wasn’t about to go traipsing about, trudging through the mud.
I’m trying my fruitiest activity first, cross stitch. I picked the least chickified project and took it home. Since My Bride was off at her new school, I was going to take whatever kids of ours that were home to lunch. The oldest and youngest would be going with me.
As we waited on Son1 to wake up and get dressed, I decided it was a good time to see what I had purchased. Son3 sat watching as I pulled it out of the package. A 6 inch double hoop, an 8 inch fabric square, 8 different colors of thread, a needle and a very large pattern to use as a reference.
Son1 was taking his sweet time so I decided to prepare the project for later. It took me every bit of 5 minutes to get the 8 inch piece if fabric placed inside of the double hoop. I wanted it perfectly centered. Never did it occur to me there were so many different colors. Nor did I realize there was more than one form of stitch possible. The most surprising, there’s a pattern, but you don’t put it on the fabric, I think. It appears you are meant to eyeball everything. I’m fairly certain this will look like a kindergartner worked on this project. For $7.99 I purchased a stress kit.
There are things I suppose I could do. I could reduce the pattern from it’s current 12 inch size down to the proper 6 inches and attach it to the fabric. I’d simply remove it when complete. I could also build upon that. Reduce the pattern down and print it on an iron on sheet. That would transfer the pattern to the fabric permanently, but the thread would cover up the evidence. The iron on is the most complicated solution, but the easiest to use once completed.
I suppose there should be no surprise that a never experienced activity undertaken alone would bring along stress. Until I figure out how the heck to get started, in going to be a bit stressed. That has to sound retarded. Some stupid ass sewing project has me stressed. Yet there it is. 12 hours after purchasing the stupid thing, I’m still trying to figure out how to get started.
I hate to do it. I’m embarrassed to do it. I can’t believe I have to do it. I have to google how to do this project. For sewing. I have to google how to freaking sew. Unreal.