Dear all,

My family and I have just heard that my father has incurable cancer. I don't know how I will feel in a couple of days, but for now, I can't see myself blogging or stitching any time soon. I'll be too busy keeping very close to everyone I love and to Papa in particular. Who knew your heart could actually, physically ache?

Please love your loved ones with all your might, before it's too late.

Annemarie.

Procrastinatiooooooooooon

I need a break from my translatathon. It's not going well, honeybuns. Rather than concentrating on my work, I keep thinking of all the new projects I will start on Wednesday. Two of then are already kitted up and then there's Noah and Summer Basket and Poinsettia House and Rejoice and The Blue Lady (you hadn't forgotten about her, I hope?) and Wife, Into Thy Garden and the whole Colonial Garden book and those gorgeous Scarlet Letter samplers I ordered last month, and, and, and...

No stitching has happened at all since last Wednesday, but there must be a reason why I'm here, right? I mean, apart from the obvious procrastination thing I have going on. Well, there is. I've been to the framer's :o) First, I will show you a pic of my favourite spot in the entire house (which in itself is my favourite spot, so this is my all-time favourite spot in the whole entire world): my stitching nook. Or, as Coni and Stewey would say, my happy chair. (it's not that foggy in my home. I pimped the picture in an attempt to disguise the ugly radiator)

There are two new samplers on the wall there -- well, the frames are new, the samplers are not recent finishes.
Firstly, Sense and Sensibility by the brilliant Sampler Girl (and please excuse the blurriness of the picture)As you see I took it to the framer's rather than finish it as a bell pull. I figured since it took me three years to finish the stitching of it, it would be a waste to put it back in the drawer for another three years, because that is probably how long it would take for me to finish-finish it. And that's a very optimistic estimate.

Secondly, the wonderful Fruitful Clusters by The Goode Huswife.

Happy bunny me.

Okay. Let's see if I can get my fingers to type Dutch for a change. Do you know it is actually quite difficult to switch from one language to the next when you're typing? Perhaps that's why work isn't going so well? Because my fingers are in English mode? My goodness, the excuses I come up with to justify my procrastinating...

Yours seriously behindly,
Annemarie.

Rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb

Damn. Can you hear the sirens? See the flashing lights? The SAL police are hard on my heels, but I'm hoping this blog post will be just in time for them to hit the breaks, shrug their shoulders and leave me be.

Progress, honeybuns. Progress on Poinsettia House for my SAL with Harmien:

You know, if Ms. Williams had named it Rhubarb Cottage I would have believed it as well. Have you ever seen a poinsettia in this colour? Mine are always DMC 815 coloured, not rhubarb-coloured. Anyway. I'm enjoying this. It's a nice break from the tedium of Noah's coat. Having said that, I'm very much looking forward to next week, when my Christmas hols will start (oh, the joys of being a freelance translator! You work your hiney off for a couple of months a year, and then you get to enjoy weeks and weeks of holiday fun. If you use my method, that is. Which is perhaps not advisable, at least not for the feeble of mind or the weak of heart. You know. You could do 5 pages a day every day for three months and not stress so much, instead of doing 30 pages a day for two weeks and be a nervous wreck by the end of the translation. But that's the way I work, and have done for twelve years. If it ain't broke, don't fix it, I say) and a merry season of stitching it will be. I want to try and finish Pelle's Noah's Stocking for Sinterklaas (December 5th) or if I can't make that, for Christmas. The chances of me making that December 5th deadline are not very good though, because of what happened yesterday. Look at what the evil people over at DMC have crafted now:

The first pic shows me that I need to clean things before I take a photograph. The second pic was titivated so as to make the chart illegible in the picture. Silly me for taking a pic like this...

A stitching box. With a lid. And room for stitchy decoration. Needless to say I had to have it. Oh, people at DMC, you may be evil for feeding my startitis, but sometimes evil is just so GOOD. Now, which design to stitch for the lid? I shall ponder this question after my deadline (which is Wednesday noon) (not afternoon: noon) (I'm telling you, these editors need to get themselves a life).

Yours rushedly,
Annemarie.

Short! But sweet?

Should have posted yesterday. Fell asleep on keyboard due to working MAO and draining (in every sense of the word) side effects of antibiotics.

Memento Mori update for my SAL with Nadia:


Expect next update on Thursday. Will hopefully be more wordy.

Yoursszzzzzzzzzz
Annemarie.

Thursday update day?

Harmien, I'm sure you will be glad to know, is still alive. She's in a bit of a stitching slump, though, and in order to crawl out of that slump, she thought it would be a good idea to ask me, her closest friend and partner in stitching crime, to join her in an SAL of Little House Needleworks' Poinsettia House -- fully expecting, of course, that I would say 'Are you %@#&*! kidding me??? I'm involved in three SALs as it is and I have a deadline for work which I couldn't even make if I kept awake and working from now until November 16th, and you're asking me if I would like to perhaps join you for another freaking SAL just to get you out of your stitching slump?'

Being the good friend that I am, of course I said yes. I said I'd just momentarily put the Thursday SALs on hold to stitch with her on Poinsettia House.
Harmien was shocked into silence and then proceeded to ask me if I wouldn't get into trouble with the SAL police if I did that.
Then I was shocked into silence, because my reputation with the police (either stitch-related or real live) isn't as pristine as it should be. Shoot. Is there even such a thing as a SAL police? Because if there is, I'll surely be in big trouble. I've met the NRR police. They're not nice at all. But the SAL police... I think the guys running the Thursday shift may work something like this (picture them in their patrol car if you will):

SAL policeman 1: Nice day for it, isn't it?
SAL policeman 2: Yup. Lovely day. Oh look, there goes Nicole, from Nicole's Needlework.
SAL policeman 1: Ah! Excellent woman. She finishes her SAL pieces before their designers can even get their stuff to the publisher's, or so I've heard.
SAL policeman 2: That's the rumour in Stitchy Blogland.
SAL policeman 1: Admirable. Hey, who are the ladies following on her heels?
SAL policeman 2: Why, I think it's Karen V and Barbara from Mainely Stitching. Oh look, and there we have Linen!
SAL policeman 1: Ah yes, how lovely to see them all. Hard-working women. Oh look, and there's Giovanna, and Cris.
SAL policeman 2: Uh-oh.
SAL policeman 1: What?
SAL policeman 2: Oh, bloody hell.
SAL policeman 1: What is it, man?
SAL policeman 2: Well, I don't want to alarm you, but I think there's that Annemarie woman coming 'round the corner, just there.
SAL policeman 1: Oh bollocks. Just when you think this is one of those days when you can just sit and relax and think that nothing will happen.
SAL policeman 2: Well, of course, with Annemarie nothing much ever does happen on the SAL front, does it?
SAL policeman 1: Well, exactly. That's why we're here, right?
SAL policeman 2: Oh, right.
SAL policeman 1: Damn, though. Have you been following her blog lately?
SAL policeman 2: Don't tell me it's the one with the coat.
SAL policeman 1: It is.
SAL policeman 2: Christ Almighty. I'm losing the will to live over that one.
SAL policeman 1: Apparently, so is she. I've heard it on the grapevine that she wants to stop the Thursday SALs for a while and concentrate on a new one. A new SAL.
SAL policeman 2: WHAT??? How can you sit here so quietly and tell me that she is on the verge of committing a major, major faux-pas and do absolutely nothing! What are we waiting for, man? Let's go and arrest her! NOW!
SAL policeman 1: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Are you sure you want to do that?
SAL policeman 2: HELL yeah! That's what we're here... oh. Oh... I see what you mean.
SAL policeman 1: Uh-huh.
SAL policeman 2: You mean to say that if we let this pass, we might finally see some action on that blog and not have to witness that drrrrreadful, painful, agonisingly slow progress on Noah's Stocking?
SAL policeman 1: Exact -- as The Fonz would and did say -- amundo. And you know, she's been through such a rough time...
SAL policeman 2: Oh, you mean with our colleagues at the NRR department? Yeah, I heard about that.
SAL policeman 1: They say she's very traumatised.
SAL policeman 2: Well, she should be.
SAL policeman 1: That's true, but still, poor sausage.
SAL policeman 2: Poor sausage, my ass. How old is she, anyway?
SAL policeman 1: Actually, last Monday was her 19th birthday.
SAL policeman 2: You're joking! She's 19? Blimey. Poor girl. Anyway, I think you're right. We should just let her get on with it.
SAL policeman 1: Yeah. Who cares about her three stitches a week anyway? Pass the donuts, will you?

So. I think I've just given myself the all-clear. Hence the lack of stitchy pics. I hope you can stitch without me for a week or two or three, Giovanna, Cris, Nadia and Mariangela! Harmien, here I come. Whoopeeeee!!!

Yours SALlingly,
Annemarie.

Of birthdays

Hello to you, honeybuns! I just crawled out of my sickbed to write this blog post because it is Monday after all, and Monday is my SAL day with Nadia. Plus it's my birthday (my 39th, but since 40 is the new 30 and 30 is the new 20, I'm really only 19 years old today, so there's no need to panic) and I wanted to take this opportunity to thank all of you for your kind wishes, your comments, your e-mails, your e-cards and your phone calls. You are all so sweet and you managed to turn this very strange day into a proper birthday after all :o)

As I said, I spent the better part of my birthday shaking and shivering under the covers, next to my shaking and shivering son, BUT I took some pictures that I think are quite sharp, considering the circumstances. First of all, dear Barbara sent a birthday card with the sweetest birthday wishes ever, and the card came with a gift:

Isn't it a thing of utter brilliance and beauty? I'd been coveting one of these since I first saw it on Barbara's blog, for obvious reasons, and now I have one of my very own!

I also gave myself a present. Two presents in fact, because I had two of my finishes framed. One of them is a very old one. I finished it in 1999 and I remember that I really enjoyed stitching it, although I wouldn't even dream of starting something like this today. Funny, isn't it, how tastes change over the years? Still, I think this is a gorgeous sampler, not one of those samplers you see popping up everywhere (no offence, but sometimes it is nice to see something new) and since the year 2009 is slowly drawing to a close, I thought it would be nice to finally have it framed:

Williamsburg Sampler by Elsa Williams. It was a kit that I gave away after finishing so I don't have any further details

And here's one you may remember:

The Harvesters by Little House Needleworks, stitched on 32 count Belfast with splotches (can't recall the name of the fabric) with DMC threads and Belle Soie Pumpkin Carriage for the pumpkins

And now the reason why you all came here today (right?): my weekly update of Rejoice by Carriage House Samplings

Now, remember I'm the slowest stitcher in the world. I don't care what anybody says or claims, it's true! Hours and hours worth of stitching has gone into this and still you can't see what it's supposed to be. It's a lovely piece, though. But you know what? With all of these SALs I'm doing, I don't have time to stitch for myself anymore! Now where did I hear that before? Ah, why can't stitchers ever be satisfied with what they do and how they do it? It's a mystery. Which I don't propose to solve today, because my head is spinning and it's high time for sleepy bobos.

Yours shakily,
Annemarie