~ Violets ~

Hi there! There must be truly wonderful stories about how needlework came into our lives! If you have a minute, let me share my story with you!

There I was, Saturday morning, early twenties, pitifully pitiful, sobbing from an earth shattering breakup with a beau the night before. There was nothing to do, I was a lost little lamb. I thought maybe I could and should find something to concentrate on, other than my shattered heart. So, off to Joann Fabrics I went, puffy eyes and all, you can well imagine all the natural beauty I was exuding~LOL. I scuffed up and down each aisle~sniffing, puffing and dabbing, ending up at a section of needlework. I thought *maybe I could do this* as I selected a chart, aida, needles and floss. I stood there thinking~hmmm, if I could just get through the weekend, I might feel better by Monday. And with Monday comes work, and work would fill my day and the holes in my bruised heart. I stitched all weekend, barely setting down the needle a single moment. What with all the counting and crossing, I was able to forget the drama from the night before. This is my first finish, nothing special, but I was a wee bit proud to have completed it, and to have made it through the weekend. At twenty-something, a young woman's heart can still be very tender, then she does two things~grows up and grows a pair:) By Monday, I found myself smitten all over again with this thing about needles and flosses and crosses, oh my! My eternal gratitude to you old beau, for letting me go...

Tootles, Sue