finding a needle in a haystack

This past summer I went with my mom to a local needlepoint chapter meeting (I think of EGA? ANG?) It was in July, and I was hoping to learn how to make ornaments as gifts for a few weddings coming up. While attending that class, they mentioned the piece for the following month: The Lily Pond, by Susan Goodman. Susan prints photos onto her canvases, and I think that is a really neat look. What's more, the kit was at a really great price. I talked with Susan and she assured me that it would be an easy piece for me to do. So I ordered it.

Now, my mother-in-law, Brenda, is just about the sweetest person I know. She always tells us not to give her anything for Christmas- that spending time together is all she wants. But I am my mother's daughter, and that means I just cannot not give a gift. (Double negative necessary.) So, I figure a really good compromise is something handmade that did not cost very much money. I set out to stitch this for Brenda.

Of course, time flies when you are a teacher, and so it was way too close to Christmas as I was trying to finish the piece. And, along the way, I had several bad encounters with needles that seriously pushed my progress back.

First, I was home one day- not sure where Marc was (perhaps a day off of school??) and I was rethreading my needle on the couch. Suddenly, the needle was gone- where could it be?? I was sitting criss-cross with a big opening in my lap. Surely the needle had fallen there. I felt around- no needle. I looked at my clothes, my canvas- no needle. Very carefully I lifted up one leg to see if the needle was under it. When you lift one leg, your weight shifts to the other one. That did it. The needle was lodged under- you guessed it- my rear end, and the weight shift pushed it in- deep. Frantically, I froze (if that is possible.) I lifted myself off the couch with my hands and stood in the living room alone, thinking, 'oh no. What will I do?' Very uncomfortably, very scared, I found the needle and removed it. Luckily- no blood. I had a haircut appointment in minutes, so I rushed out of the house- lightheadedly, and went to the salon. Where I told a nearly complete stranger the story, and watched through the mirror as she gave very uncomfortable side glances and awkward responses to my story. Should have kept it to myself. But funny, right??

Second needle catastrophe: we were on the plane headed to Indiana, and I was madly trying to finish before we got there so I could give it to Brenda. Not two minutes into stitching, I lost my needle again! This time, I saw it go flying into the carpet abyss under our seats. (I was in the window seat.) I tried all the other needles- they both had snaggy eyes and did not fit my thread properly. So now, I was stuck- how would I finish?? I searched... and searched... and searched under the seat for the needle. Not easy, given economy seating. Thank goodness we had a free seat in between us so I had room to move around. It was nowhere- how can you lose a needle in a confined space? While I sat there, head between my legs, we went through some bad turbulence and I got completely nauseous...and waited for a while before searching again. Finally, I had an epiphany: I would use my cell phone light! So I waited until we touched down, then while the rest of the passengers deplaned, I cast the blue-gray cell phone light under the seat. There it was- tucked in the crevasse between the carpet and the metal siding.

We got in past midnight and the next morning I woke up early and finished the piece.

And it all worked out- I hadn't finished it in time to have it framed at home, so Brenda and I decided to go to the framer's together and she could pick it out herself. Turns out we didn't have time while I was there, so she went later. She chose a raspberry/burgundy matting that went really well with the place she would hang it in her house. I don't think I would have thought to use those colors in the matting-there are so many to choose from, and it totally makes sense when I think about Brenda's house. I am so glad that it all worked out this way. It's funny when we give gifts, how much they are a reflection of ourselves. But, it's neat to think that in a way, we got to collaborate on the finished product together.