My neighbors growing up had a girl named Georgina, and a block down was a boy named George ( called Georgey). His mom corrected anyone that spelled it Georgie, because that to her, was the female version. She survived the Holocaust, her tattoo was deeply embedded in her arm, and we all respected her. Hence, Georgey boy.
My eyes are quickly worsening, and forty count in a darker linen is very difficult, especially with similarly colored threads. Yoi!!
The called for 612 and 613 did not show well on a lighter linen or this one, and VERY difficult to see when stitching. I had to move down to 610 and 611, better, but not ideal. This linen scrap is the right size for Georgey. Cutting into a larger piece of linen (for me), is as objectionable as ketchup on a pancake. So this color of ????? will be tolerated.
As Edie mentioned, an action by George was not. This is the story included in this chart from R&R Reproductions.
After years of peace that followed a decade of intense miserable disgusting nasty mood-altering sweat fests, hot flashes are back. WTH? And my long awaited visit with a new cardiologist yesterday, was a big letdown.
Hope you are having a good week as summer, that just showed up a week ago, flies by.
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3 comments:
Ketchup on a pancake. EEEWWWWWWW!!!
I love the story of George. He must have been REALLY bad. I'm surprised he was allowed to attend the girls' school.
After 20+ years of hot flashes, mine still come and go.
So sorry the cardiologist appointment didn't go better. You know what they call the person who finished last in medical school? Doctor ;-(
Hello Marly: Beautiful Sampler design, I do like the fabric, will a larger count fabric like 36 count be better? Hope all is going better with a cardiologist, hope you can get the right doctor to listen and help.
Catherine
Ahhh...THAT George! Yes! I remember reading of him - probably right here on your blog but that "that" I cannot recall. I'm so sorry to read that the cardio appt didn't provide more succor. What's next?? I'm still waiting for hot flashes. All my life I've been cold and thought there'd be one, small, joy in growing old. Not to be for me I guess.
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