Followers

21 January 2011

Near disaster

First, let me thank you for the kind comments on Betsy that were left. I appreciate them all.

I pulled her out last night with a goal to finish the alphabet before I misplaced the floss again. I was sitting in bed, which was probably where the mistake started. And I got up and down. Left-brain was moving stuff around. My scissors were left near the WIP, and when I came back from the kitchen, my snips were buried almost to the hilt in the middle of the yellow fabric.

These scissors are sharp as a scalpel. They're cheap scissors, just the CraftSmart ones from the craft store, but I like them because they cut so well, with little effort. Both Left-brain and I can attest, they cut flesh really well; I don't put them in the project bag for that reason, and he took a hit by reaching around in the bed. We're dang lucky they haven't poked through the new sheets.

My fabric didn't fare so well. I pulled them out and tried to assess the damage. Since I need new glasses, I couldn't tell if there was a hole in the fabric right away. But there was.

At that moment I became emotionally compromised. I know something had to be done, because it was going to pull when I have the piece mounted. First I tried to see if the stitching would cover it. It wouldn't. I told Left-brain that it was all messed up and I couldn't figure out how to fix it.

His suggestion: "Trash it." He knows that I am not a fudger, not a mistake leaver inner. It's one of my personality quirks with this craft. I know only God is perfect, and the Amish put mistakes in their work to show they are less than God, but my feeling is, if it's worth doing, it's worth doing right. But I don't want to start Betsy over again. So I gave him the stink-eye. He brought me Cherry Garcia as a mea culpa.

So I fudged. I have one wonky leave which covers the hole. I moved some of the star motifs around a bit to make the wonky leaf look like it was supposed to be there. I'm not happy that I had to do this. It makes me twitchy, but I really don't have any other choice. I reason it out by saying that a woman working a sampler 150 years ago wouldn't have tossed it out for a hole; materials and time were too precious to waste. Just because I have more time now and materials aren't so expensive doesn't make either any less valuable.


Here is the affected area all fixed up. I'm hoping that it looks like it was supposed to be this way all along:



And yes, I have learned to keep my scissors away from the fabric now.

9 comments:

Annie said...

Your fix-up looks great to me. I'm not nearly so particular with my own work. I figure the mistakes are what give the piece its charm. Attitude is everything!

Bette said...

I sure can't tell there was a hole anywhere. You did a great job on salvaging the piece.

Donna said...

Good job. I can't even tell where the problem lies.

Siobhan said...

GULP. I'm glad that you were able to fix it! Like the others have said, I didn't see any problem with it, so your patch up did the trick. It looks good!

valerie said...

Good patch up job! I can't even tell where the hole was.

Meari said...

I think it looks fine, Rachel. I wouldn't have guessed. I don't even know which leaf is wonky!

mbroider said...

When i read this, i just wanted to come over and hug you...

I cant even see anything 'off'... So Betsy and you are doing good.

Carole said...

I can't tell where the wonky leaf is. Great patching job.

Lisa said...

Hey Rachel,

I just discovered your blog.....it's great!! As is your stitching. I also live in MD. I was so excited to read about the Hobby Lobby in Laurel...I didn't know there was one close by. You motivated me to zoom to LNS (not so local) and buy a project and I have stitched all day today...we didn't go to work because of the ice
thanks for getting me going again.

Lisa

I do my thing and you do yours. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations, and you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, then it is beautiful. If not, it can’t be helped--Frederick Perls