I was at a particularly heated municipal meeting the other night (the one in Newlin) and brought along my needlepoint project to keep me occupied during the stretches when I wasn't schmoozing or taking notes.
I was surprised at the reaction my half-finished canvas got. A friend sitting next to me said it reminded her of a male needlework enthusiast she knows in England, and the time a stranger at an airport made a little hat for my friend's baby during a flight delay.
The woman behind me said she used to do needlepoint regularly but hadn't seen anyone doing it in 20 years. I guess she doesn't hang out with the hip crowd that I do: at a get-together on Saturday, another lady and I were both doing needlepoint, and she was enough of an expert not only to design her own patterns but also to critique my yarn choice (she thought a variegated yarn would be more suitable than the plain coral I was using).
I took the same project to a blood drive Thursday at St. Gabriel in Avondale, expecting to wait before they poked me. The older lady volunteering at the drive came over and said she misses doing embroidery because "they" don't make canvases anymore with the pattern stamped on it. Her daughter is trying to talk her into taking up counted cross-stitch, but she has her doubts.
I find needlepoint to be an excellent hobby, very soothing and meditative, and you get a nice-looking pillow at the end of it.
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