11 June 2014
It's getting there.
All I have left is a bit of the lettering on the right side and the beach, but it's straight beach and water for 60 stitches, kind of boring stitching. I am not a big fan of LA charts because of them being colored--I don't like color charts when the color that they use has nothing to do with what the finished chart will look like. It's odd, but it throws me off and I don't like it. And so this vast run of color is dragging me down. I decided to break it into columns, 10 stitches wide, though, and that works a little better. I worked on it during Deadliest Catch last night, so it went OK.
I need to learn how to schedule things. I have, what 4 days to finish this, and not sure I am going to make it. I signed up for a training class at work to learn a new skillset, and I was in class on Saturday for 5 hours. Training continues this Saturday, I don't think it's as long, though, and I'm supposed to go see a play for work, if I can get tickets, then we are doing the big Father's Day thing on Sunday, so that will take some time. On top of it, I have 4 books to read by next Thursday that are on the highly-requested list, so not sure that's going to work. I may end up owing the library some money, y'all, cause I am not returning them til I am done.
With Father's Day being so close to when Daddy died, it's hard for me this year. In a different way than it was when Gramma died. That was a terrible year--the first Thanksgiving, we didn't feel like cooking, so we ordered one of those pre-cooked meals from the grocery store. And it was dreadful. And the turkey needed to be cooked another two hours. It was the worst Thanksgiving ever. Plus, Daddy was in the hospital, still fighting to recover from the car accident that took Gramma, and that cast a shadow on everything. At Christmas, it was just trying to find a reason to believe in the wonder, now that the person who made the holidays so special was gone. But Father's Day feels different, and those stupid ads! Belk sent an email to a link for a Father's Day sale. They had pink pants. And those irritated me. Maybe because Left-brain wouldn't wear pink pants if they were the only pair he had in the closet--he's a jorts and t-shirt kind of man. My dad would have probably have worn them, if they were on sale, because my dad still thought in terms of 1970s prices, til my mom and I started buying him clothes. But I won't get to buy silly things like that anymore for him. And it got to me. I saw a guy who looked a little like him at the grocery store, and it hit me that I don't have a dad anymore; I bet that guy thought I was crazy, a fat lady pushing her cart away, crying, in the middle of the Food Lion, but it happened. I'd give anything to be able to have my dad back for an hour, the way he was before all this happened, how he was when I was in college, or even right after I got married, and I'd be able to tell him I am sorry I was a royal pain, sorry for the times I didn't have enough time for him, and thank him for being there for me when he could be. Heck, I'd give him pink pants if it would get him back for me. I think I may have to settle for just not checking email and ignoring the TV til the weekend is over.