However, when I was last visiting my mom, she mentioned that the afghan I made for her several couches ago doesn’t match the current décor. She said she’d like one that does. (For years and years and years, I tried giving my mom handmade presents. Now that I have given up, she actually asked for one!)
It turns out that I am not the only one who has given up cross-stitch. Supplies are harder to find. I got rid of my pattern books in one of my simplicity movements and an internet search did not turn up the perfect pattern, so I bought a new book. The afghan cloth itself required visits to multiple stores. I did, however, have needles, floss, and an appropriately-sized embroidery hoop.
What I couldn’t find, at first, was my technique. I fumbled around like I hadn’t made gazillions of stitches before. I went to find my glasses, which I never wear, even though Syd says they make me look like a biker librarian. That helped a little. I finished one square about the time T. finished his math.
Only 27 more to go.