Stitching and Reading News

Hello, dear friends,

Has it been that long since my last post? I swear it was June last week... and not it's already the end of September. Where did the time go? I guess it flew away...

Past few months, I have been working my job, stitching, and reading. (What else, right? )

In stitching news - there is finally a WIP picture I can share with you.

This is to be a stocking - with snowmen, as you can (hopefully) see. Such bright colors, and very interesting shapes and angles. I enjoy this process.

In the reading department - I have finished "Harry Potter and the Cursed Child". What an experience. The plot twists are unexpected, the form (a play) is refreshing, but most important part - this is a book about real issues: issues in parenting, growing up, relationships - and mistakes made while forging them. This is one of those books that make you think and reflect upon your own situation, letting you be your own judge. I enjoyed it - and look forward to re-reading it again soon.

Another book I attempted to read was "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac. I decided to listen to it, rather than read (it was late, and my eyes were tired after work) - and gave up listening after an hour. I just could not grasp what it was about. Names, places, people, diners, more people, names of roads, more diners, and tasty descriptions of apple pie and ice cream... It was like being on the road with the writer - or, rather, taking a road trip in the back seat of  the car with your parents when you are a kid: you look out the window at the endless poles, you count the poles and think - once I get to one hundred, we'll have to stop at the rest stop, maybe something interesting will happen then... One hundredth pole passes, and we are still driving. Then, you up it to two hundred, three, four - as many as needed - until, finally, your parents stop. You get out of the car, use the bathroom and look around for some kind of an adventure, some experience - and find... a truck stop with the apple pie and ice cream. There is your adventure. Then, you get back in the car - and get going - again: one, two three, four... one hundred... two hundred... infinity... 

Until next time, 

A Bit of Stitching, High Anxiety, and Instruments of Medieval Torture

Hello, dear friends!
First of all, I want to share some stitching I have done over the past three weeks...

First, I thought of posting five or six progress pictures, but then, feeling brave(r) than usual, I decided to make it into a movie. This is still work in progress - desperately needing a broom and a header (where the huge brown circle is) - but, overall, I am happy with the result. Now to see if Blogger is able to play this... Keep your fingers crossed for me! 

Other than stitching, I am still dedicated to the gym, although in my mind I now refer to it as "medieval torture chamber." I am sure many of you can relate: when you are on the machine, everything hurts, and afterwords, everything hurts even more. The look of the machine, with all of its gadgets, screws and adjustment levers, strongly reminds me of the medieval torture device. In my case, the personal trainer (a.k.a. "the torture master") adjusts the devices and makes me go through the routine, assuring me the whole time that it's good for me. Finally, the screams, moans and groans of people around me (mostly males lifting weights) add the final touch and make the experience of the torture chamber complete.

A separate word about the moaning and groaning fellow sufferers... Mostly, they are men, and they lift weights, and they tend to drop and smash those weights all over the place. From a distance, it sounds something like this: "Arrrrgh! - Boom! - Clang... - Oooh... " The sound sequence is repeated over and over, with the "arrrgh"'s getting louder and more painful, and booms and clangs more loud. I don't know why these men do it this way - maybe, they think it sounds macho, attractive, like "look at me, I am so strong"? For me, at its loudest/dramatic it sounded like the guy was having a heart attack. Otherwise, it seemed like he was taking a painful dump. So, in conclusion: gentlemen, stop showing off! If you have to scream lifting the weight, that means you need to switch to a lighter weight. Making scary near-death-like noises only intensifies the "torture chamber" effect I talked about earlier.

To be fair, going to the gym does make me feel better overall, and I also lost a little weight - five pounds, to be exact, - thanks mostly to following the "torture master"'s routine. So, although I do call her that (in my mind), I am actually grateful to her.

Until next time - happy everything!