With all the moving and rearranging going on around here it's like an archeology dig. Things are being unearthed and not all good. I'm finding stuff I'd rather not remember like this inch mat I began when I first started rug hooking.
Monotony is not for me. If you look up monotony in the dictionary I would be listed as the antonym. I like zip and zing, none of this repetitive, boring, dull stuff that makes you want to take a long walk off a short peer. But you do things for the people you love, or at least go into it for the right reason. Hubby needed a rug for his side of the bed to keep his tootsy's warm and I wanted to do something nice for the guy I love, and coincidentally, there was an Inch Mat class going on at the Whitman Inn so Mary Doig, Susan Leslie and I signed up.
There's nothing linear about me and I should have known it would be a bit of a drag doing all those straight lines and squares, but I was new at this and didn't know what I was in for. We all designed our own pieces, Susan did a variation of an antique rug and Mary took on the Boston Sidewalk, both of which were finished in a timely fashion and fabulous to view. I had a suspicion I might not enjoy the process so I opted to cut out a few dozen of the nightmarish squares by putting a big ole monogram in the center. I should have gone for a chair pad, something I could have finished during the weekend, but no, I had to be overly optimistic and go big. L for Little, it would have been a sweet gesture if the motives were pure but I really only wanted to cut down on the amount of squares I'd have to hook. I also put a gap between the center diamond and the corner triangles, once again reducing the amount of squares. Oh, and I should say counting all those holes to draw straight lines was a chore as well!
And because it was a pin in the eye experience, the rug ended rolled up and stashed away, out of sight, out of mind with little intention to finish. What is hooked was done at the weekend class, not a loop was pulled once I returned home. It's been buried all this time and forgotten. But...now that it's back in my thoughts, here's guilt nesting next to it. Thirteen years later and winter is once again around the corner so hubby's feet will be cold as they hit the floor. I'm thinking it might be advantageous to put the rug in the shop, set it up on a frame so when friends drop in to say hi they could pick away at a square or two until it's on the last leg and more agreeable to finish. Sort of sleazy I know, or maybe it's genius? A lot of my friends think my guy is pretty swell so maybe it wouldn't be so painful to help the poor boy out. I still have all the wool, maybe I'll dig it out and have it conveniently cut and ready to go. Anyone wishing to save my hubby's feet from another year of frigid floors, and me from whining about all those squares, come on in and hook a few! I should just bite the bullet, finish it and wrap it up for under the Christmas Tree.....that would be a real surprise! Gee I wonder if he reads my blogs?
Monotony is not for me. If you look up monotony in the dictionary I would be listed as the antonym. I like zip and zing, none of this repetitive, boring, dull stuff that makes you want to take a long walk off a short peer. But you do things for the people you love, or at least go into it for the right reason. Hubby needed a rug for his side of the bed to keep his tootsy's warm and I wanted to do something nice for the guy I love, and coincidentally, there was an Inch Mat class going on at the Whitman Inn so Mary Doig, Susan Leslie and I signed up.
There's nothing linear about me and I should have known it would be a bit of a drag doing all those straight lines and squares, but I was new at this and didn't know what I was in for. We all designed our own pieces, Susan did a variation of an antique rug and Mary took on the Boston Sidewalk, both of which were finished in a timely fashion and fabulous to view. I had a suspicion I might not enjoy the process so I opted to cut out a few dozen of the nightmarish squares by putting a big ole monogram in the center. I should have gone for a chair pad, something I could have finished during the weekend, but no, I had to be overly optimistic and go big. L for Little, it would have been a sweet gesture if the motives were pure but I really only wanted to cut down on the amount of squares I'd have to hook. I also put a gap between the center diamond and the corner triangles, once again reducing the amount of squares. Oh, and I should say counting all those holes to draw straight lines was a chore as well!
And because it was a pin in the eye experience, the rug ended rolled up and stashed away, out of sight, out of mind with little intention to finish. What is hooked was done at the weekend class, not a loop was pulled once I returned home. It's been buried all this time and forgotten. But...now that it's back in my thoughts, here's guilt nesting next to it. Thirteen years later and winter is once again around the corner so hubby's feet will be cold as they hit the floor. I'm thinking it might be advantageous to put the rug in the shop, set it up on a frame so when friends drop in to say hi they could pick away at a square or two until it's on the last leg and more agreeable to finish. Sort of sleazy I know, or maybe it's genius? A lot of my friends think my guy is pretty swell so maybe it wouldn't be so painful to help the poor boy out. I still have all the wool, maybe I'll dig it out and have it conveniently cut and ready to go. Anyone wishing to save my hubby's feet from another year of frigid floors, and me from whining about all those squares, come on in and hook a few! I should just bite the bullet, finish it and wrap it up for under the Christmas Tree.....that would be a real surprise! Gee I wonder if he reads my blogs?
 Mary's Boston Sidewalk |  Susan Variation of an antique pattern. |
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