The other day I was looking at a piece of cross stitch I completed almost 13 years ago now. It is about 2 feet by 3 feet, a very small pattern, and every millimeter of it is covered with stitches. The picture is the close up of two wolves that I had completed for Matt on the occasion of our wedding.
I wondered, who was the person who made that? Who took the time to sew each of those teeny stitches? Who had two free hands, adequate hours, good lighting and un-bumped elbows, focus to read and follow the pattern for each of those thousand of stitches? Who had the where-with-all to make sure each stitch went in the same direction for uniformity? Who had the patience for that?
Who was she? Have I met her?
She is so different from the person I know myself to be today.
Today the person I know has gone from a meticulously focused detail-oriented organizational fiend to a multi-tasker moving at the speed of light, and dropping alot of balls in the process (to mix a whole bunch of metaphors!).
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