I'm still stitching, dear reader. I can't help myself. I find it so soothing, so engrossing, so satisfying. It makes sitting through swim team feel like a cozy night in a Swiss chalet. With a cup of hot chocolate! And lullabies.
And, oh, how it helps me channel a happy place on days when it seems Caroline is more sawing her cello in half than actually practising.
Those fuzzy antlers! They gave me such a thrill I simply had to move on to the socks. Once they were striped and dotted I nearly swooned off my chair. What next? Quoi d'autre? One false move and it would all come down like a house of cards. I paced the room like a woman possessed. The suspense was maddening. The bonnet. The bonnet! Oh, muse! Oh, grace! It was all so obvious!
This is for my lovely sister-in-law, Madeline. She requested it on behalf of a friend. Right. Just like I have a "friend" who can't organize her studio and eats far too much bread. And is addicted to french dots.
And here is a peek at a sweet lamb my mom french-dotted the living daylights out of when she was feeling poorly with cancer. I spent many hours with her, stitching side by side, feeling scared and helpless and yet so grateful that those tiny dots seemed to have the power to distract her from her pain.
Dear reader, do you remember my invitation to make one hundred somethings? Do you remember my promise that creativity is an elixir with the capacity to lift almost any situation?
I've taken a brief hiatus on the Hundred Dresses Project out of necessity, but hopefully I will soon return to that happy little world of wistful girls and their sometimes shocking behavior.
It's a new year, dear reader. I'm not sure what all is coming with this carpet bag of goodies but I, for one, plan to french dot the living daylights out of it.