Getting my craft on, autumn sucks, and sticky hands

OK... I've been feeling somewhat uninspired the last few days. Blame it on the weather, the short(er) days, or the fact that my schedule, now that Anevay is back to school, has changed.

Whatever the reason, I've been reading far too many of my old, sad favorites- such as Jane Eyre- which, although it ends sweetly, is by no means a pick-me-up. I've also been pretty nostalgic, thinking about old friends, and/or people and things I've taken for granted (no need to go too deeply into this). A dear friend took me to see Bright Star, the new Jane Campion movie- you know- the one about the British Romantic poet, John Keats, who died at age 25, leaving his love, Fanny, to wallow in misery for the rest of her life. I cried, of course, a flood of tears, although I think I hid it pretty well (the trick, I've learned, is just to let the tears run. Don't wipe them away- the gesture will alert your movie-partner to the fact that you're crying like an idiot). Perhaps you know of my love for the Romantic poets? One of my prized possessions is a two-volume collection of Keat's letters...

Sigh.

This sort of thing happens to me every autumn. Contrary to what happens to most people- who, by the look of things, eat more as the weather turns- I eat less- it becomes a chore. I tend to lose weight. I get migraines. I want to cry when I see the leaves fall from the trees. I toss and turn, my dreams become stronger and stranger. All I want is to be hugged and loved and have sweet people make me tea (or throw back a couple shots of whiskey).

Um, yeah, just sayin'.

Really, I'm not nearly as tragic as I make myself out. I'm just being a whiny brat. Deal.

Good news is that I'm forcing myself to make something new every day, work on the book, and, am feeling inspired about a new project (more about this to come... it'll take me a few months to teach myself how to sew properly enough to even begin talking about what I'd like to make!).

Here are a couple of the little things I've been making these days. Figure that even though I'm not in a beautiful romantic relationship, there's no reason for me not to be super happy for those of you who are (um, this sort of self-pity also is something that happens to me every autumn. Sigh. It'll pass soon, I promise!). I'm not really feelin' the macabre right now... rather, I've been sitting daydreaming about F-in' hearts and ponies and rainbows and weddings, just like a little girl:

Um, Mom and Alan, if you're reading, I guess you guys now know what I'm giving you for Christmas this year... Cotton floss over nice Irish linen, and hand-stained hoops (by yours truly, of course). Cute, huh?

Same goes for you, Nana and Grampa.

In fact, if you're near and dear to me and are in a loving relationship, please ignore the fact that you ever saw this post. (Oh, and if you happen to hate embroidery on little hoops, let me know ASAP, OK?)

Funny aside about the hoops above:

So, I had never stained wood before. I really, really wish someone had told me how impossible it is to remove stain from sinks, bathtubs, and SKIN. Yes, friends, I got this sticky stuff all over my hands, and it would not come off. I was in tears, laughing like a maniac... I used everything to try to remove it, including Goo-gone, and then, um, don't think I'm too much of an idiot, but I even tried Pinesol. I know, I know, ammonia is NOT supposed to touch skin, but after about 1/2 hour, I was desperate. Thing is, the more I tried to remove it, the more it just SPREAD, until my hands were covered in the stuff. Finally, I just scrubbed the hell out of my hands with a heavy-duty sponge. There's still a bit under my nails and beneath my ring, but hey, it makes me look crafty, right?

Oh- one last thing- I just got an email from a woman at NY Magazine... They are just wrapping the Winter Wedding issue, which means in just a few short weeks, you'll be able to pick up your copy and see my work stitched across two pages!! Cool, huh?