The cross-stitched chair cover has languished, unfinished, in the closet of my mind for 40 years.
In my defence, I didn’t start it. It came to me after my grandmother died.
Maybe you’d like to finish it? The flowers are all done.
My mother did not engage in the needle arts, but this observation required no particular expertise, no domain knowledge as we say these days, and she was exactly right. The flowers were done, albeit with some missed stitches; the mustardy brown background was partly done, clearly waiting only for willing hands. Continue reading
