to the motif and bottom area, finished with letters. I'm glad I took the time to remove and restitch in the correct colors. Just those little areas make it more appealing to me. I may pop more color into the flowers by moving to a slightly brighter shade of the floss.
I haven't sewn Ellen into a pouch yet, and may not. I like pouches but rarely use them as such, and her size would work well as a mini pillow or larger ornament. Perfect size for the wrought iron hooks I installed on my interior doors. I did baste her to the red wool and loved it. but it was a little too Christmasy and did take away from the sampler's details. I decided on the dark green or a dark gold that also blends with the threads. A heavier strap of the wool instead of a thinner hanger is the plan. I really need to be in the mood to sit at the machine and work without a pattern or things get really nasty.
And you've seen this in so many proposed finishes from frames to boxes and frankly, I am sick of it. I chose a ticking lining and a dark brown wool, will attempt a pouch from this, again. If it fails as so many times before, it will be gone. If it succeeds as a presentable pouch, it may be for sale.
Our snow is melted and I was able to get up the luge track know as Carole's driveway to bring her supplies and groceries. I only went to one store, Walmart, for all the items on her list. They are rearranging the store. I couldn't find anything but the bread isle and produce. You would think vinegars should be with the salad dressings as always, but they moved them to the oil section. I was so flustered I forget the brats' foods and a few items I needed. The store looked a scene from a horror movie, bodies without expression, wandering aimlessly in circles, as if they were all hatched from pods. Except for me. I would yell down aisles to employees asking where items were. Most knew and were very helpful.
I do think what Carole has is the flu, it is in her chest and the cough can call in elk. She is taking antibiotics and other meds, hoping it does not get worse. Brother is on the monitor and will probably be scheduled for a pacemaker. I will need to take care of his three maniac ferals, each with their own quirks, houses, foods, and routines. My brother is truly catman. When they had to move from a country rental, he asked the new owners to care for the six ferals he fed. They replied they would have no problem with putting food out for them, with a little "something" in it. He borrowed traps from the shelter and trapped them all, taking them 15 miles to a city home. Feral. Feral feral feral. All six in his small house, never to be let outside, most hid for days at a time. What a year that was! Eventually they settled and allowed him and Pat to touch them. Traumatic for them all, but they lived good lives.
We're almost to February and I really need to line up the house project picks. There is no pill for procrastination. Can't swallow pills anyway.
Have a good one!
Thanks for visiting.
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