Monday, December 20, 2010
This is my ode to one-legged chickens.
I started a Christmas Beetle but it didn’t quite fit the mood. Too...hmn...finicky...or something.
But then when I’d finished with the embroidered representation of the side view of a chook, I realised I’d been (clumsily) channelling the glorious work of Diem Chau, something I’d been clucking over a few weeks ago. I’m a bit uncomfy about this. Though I did really enjoy that sketchy, not-perfect, entirely impractical, break-the-rules, embroidered bizzo.
This is my ode to runaway dogs.
I always barrack for them on the quiet. As long as they remember to look before they cross the road and get home safely before dark and don’t do weird things like gatecrash someone’s house and then wee on the almost-dry washing hanging on their line*.
I have not stitched an ode to an (almost) inhaled earwig. I just thought I’d mention it because even though it happened a few nights ago, it’s still making (almost) all, at chez Myrtleandeunice, chuckle. The Mr, who is a big, strong, hearty sort of fellow, is asthmatic. He usually takes a preventative puff on his inhaler before bed. On the night in question, I was two rooms away. I heard the inhale, followed by a teeny, delicate whimper. A minute later, a pale, stricken Mr appeared, to debrief a throaty and traumatic encounter with a wiggly, who upon its projectiled escape, scuttled away to see another earwiggy day.
PS. Yes. I should be Christmas pressie crafting.
* A whole ’nother story