Left behind

Wandering in and out of thrift shops in Crouch End, I was sorely tempted to rescue this almost-finished piece of needlepoint, priced at £10, complete with frame. The maker had obviously run out of wool, and turning it over you could see why - she was using some sort of "one step forward and two steps back" stitch, making the back more solid than the front.

Just yesterday I'd been rummaging through my hatbox full of leftover and special-purchase tapestry wools (over the years I have succumbed to a number of needlepoint kits), and knew that some if not most of the colours were there - besides, wouldn't it be fun to finish it in surprising ways; it wouldn't take long, would it? There are artists who subvert "tapestry kits" - Mary Smull for instance - and there are others, but I can't find them at the moment... subversive cross-stitch, though, is easy to find on the internet, and seems to contain a superfluity of the f-word and other such ... not the sort of thing your maiden auntie, holding her embroidery frame, would approve of -- and the rest of us are supposed to find this highly ironic?

Anyway, the unfinished tapestry is still in the shop, or maybe someone else has taken it home to complete. Taking on something "new" like this (even if it is unfinished) doesn't fit in with my project of Catching Up With Myself --- so much better to work on one of my own UFOs!

But aren't there times when it's a comfort to follow the instructions, count the stitches, know you are doing it right ... to be able to measure your progress and know that there is a definite point when It Is Finished. (That's part of the joy of reading a book, too.)