Some movement... walk, a swim, stretching, playing, yoga.
Every day, for thirty days.
My first attempt at this fern, or feather, stitch from an example I found, through Pinterest, at Lavana e Lilla. I tried it on a row of patchwork squares, for yet another work-in-progress quilt I found. I have no idea when I started this one. I do remember wanting to add darling appliqués, but that I was not achieving very good results. As I recall, this one was packed away out of frustration. Now I am tempted to finish more appliqués and play with more embroidery, too.
I have mispoken... I didn't find the quilt top, Mister Foo found the quilt top. He has been craft wrangling in my armoire! With nary an inch to work with, he breaks into the closet where I store yarn, gifts, projects, stuff, yarn, fabric, stuff, and yarn. And stuff. You know what I mean. He's after the yarn. He's relentless. He carries off skeins, balls, even half-done wraps and scarves, and he rides off into the sunset with his hustled booty. This time, he jumped into the closet so determinedly he came crashing down with a heap of stuff on top of him, including the unfinished quilt top. You probably heard the racket, and me screaming, "Foo!"
I picked up the quilt top, and decided it wasn't so bad after all, and I looked at the weird scarf he was after, and decided it was bad enough to let Foo enjoy killing it. Then I decided to lay the quilt top out, get a good study of it, decide what to do to finish it, and take a picture of...
Well, the idea was to get a picture of the quilt top, but Foo brought his hapless victim into the scene. Yarn guts, everywhere.
Warning: Due to the graphic nature of Foo's behavior, the next image my be unsuitable for yarn lovers.
I decided I really should press the quilt top, after all. And so, naturally, Mister Foo returned when I was ready to get a nice shot of my freshly ironed quilt top.