Flighty flighty flighty

I have been flittering between projects for the last few days. I started LHN He's A Flake. I like him so far, he seems like a quick stitch (good, cause I'm now 3 behind on those). I am using PTP Fathom, which might be a tad dark, but, then again, these are MY ornaments for MY tree, and I LIKE the Fathom. I cut it so I have a piece left over. There's a certain Halloween freebie out there that is gonna be put on a GORGEOUS piece of fabric. I even have the beads. I bought more of those bulk sets at Michael's. I know I'll be able to use them.

I also picked up the ring pillow. I need to get that finished, and it really is an easy stitch. I am liking how the colors play in and out because of the over-dyed thread. It's a lot of fun.

But then, Saturday, I was out in the garage, and pulled out Shores of Hawks Run Hollow. It's been out there, neglected, in a mesh bag, since it was a witness to the horrific demise of the Neon. I figured, since Carriage House Samplings will no longer be publishing (and that's all I have to say about that, she says in her best Forrest Gump impersonation), maybe I ought to get to stitching on it.

It's wierd. I love this chart (aside from the fact it was in the garage, but the dogs were taking care of it.)I want our someday dining room to be in the blues of Shores (I can see it now--dark wood, white linen, and icy blue), and I want to get this finished. But I took a look at it Saturday and thought, "Can I really, really handle another two year stitching project? Do I really WANT to do this again? CAN I really do this again?" Houses was an amazing stitching experience for me, but part of me wonders if that was just a fluke. It seems silly, but I worry about these types of things. And I've made some changes for my version, what if they look like crap on the fabric, and I've just made an expensive mistake? And part of me, the willful childish side looked at those borders, 92 stitches long, and said, "B*tch, you crazy! I'm not doing it. You can't make me do it."

And then, very calmly, I understood. I've probably told this story before, but, when I was in college, it was a 10 hour drive to get to Kentucky. My father drove me, because I didn't have a license til I was 20. The route we took was in 3 parts: west on Rt. 70, to 68, to Morgantown, West Virginia, then down to Charleston, then west on 64 into Lexington. The highway runs through the mountain right beyond where you get on 68, so you get through it, and you can't see where you came from.Sometimes I didn't want to go back to school. I used to get panic attacks when we would leave. It wasn't that I didn't love school, I found myself in college, but I just got intimidated. But I got into the mindset, as long as we hadn't gotten to where 70 hit 68, as long as I didn't get into the mountains, I could always turn around and go home. Once I got on 68, well that was committing; I couldn't ask my dad to stop the forward motion and I had to continue down the road. And of course the feeling passed when we got to Morgantown, and by the time we hit Charleston, it was, "Come on, we gotta get home," because, despite the hard work, and the panic, I wanted nothing more than to see what would happen. because my life was made all the fuller just 10 hours away.

And so, I realized, I was at my Rt. 68 with this sampler the other day. I could commit or turn back. Do my best, knowing it won't be easy to get this finished, but that it is accomplishable, or put it aside. And, just as I never once turned back on my way to Kentucky, I committed to my sampler. I don't know how it will play out with the other things. Maybe a few less freebies will be stitched, maybe I won't get my Bride's Tree done. But who knows. Maybe this is a confidence kick!