As far as I can tell, no one but my super-typo-sniffer-outer husband noticed my typo in the patterns. And yet here I am, airing my dirty typo laundry for all to read. (Does Photoshop even have a spellchecker? I wouldn't know since I learned to use Photoshop by mashing my fists into the keyboard and seeing what came up on the screen.) Not to worry, it is not anything that will affect your embroidery, just a silly missing 'p'! And those of you who saved the originally posted versions have special "limited edition" chicken scratch patterns. You may want to print it out, dip it in resin and preserve it for your grand kids. My comliments to the pattern-maker!
Am I embarrassed? No, way, I'm too cool for that! Ok, maybe a little. People like to read embarrassing stories though, right? So! For your entertainment, I will now post one of the most embarrassing moments in my life:
Once there was a young girl who had a VERY active imagination and a habit of getting into places she wasn't supposed to. She liked to climb into the cat condo known affectionately as "the cat house" and pretend she was a squirrel. Or sometimes she'd stuff some toys in there and pretend she was a mother fox in her den with little babies. Sometimes the cat house was a wigwam. Sometimes a bear's cave. All the while she would narrate her adventures in third person,
"It was nearly winter so the squirrel gathered nuts (acorns) and seeds (toothpicks) and made her nest (blankets) for the cold months. She settled in and slept for it was very cold out."
And like all young mammals, the girl grew. She grew a little each day so she didn't really notice. Until one day something happened that made her realize her size. She got stuck in the cat house. She poked her head out but her shoulders, she didn't remember them being this broad. She started to struggle and there was pain coming from her feet. It was those damn acorns and toothpicks. Why, WHY had she gathered toothpicks!?
The girl's parents came, laughed, snapped a picture and talked her out of the cat house.
"No, duck down and shoot one leg out of the hole....oh, wow, that's not going to work."
"Can you get one arm out and then shinny your shoulders?"
There may have been some loosening of panels with a crowbar and some olive oil involved but the girl was free of the cat house in time. Now she knew why her mom had told her to stop putting toothpicks in the cat house. No, it wasn't to keep the cats from eating them and getting intestinal torsion. It was so that one day, when she got stuck in the cat house, she wouldn't get toothpicks stuck in her feet trying to free herself. Mothers are wise.
Now, about that picture. I know there exists a picture. I suspect my sister has stolen it to blackmail me in the future! But the joke's on her, I have grown to love this story! Yes, I was an odd child. Yes, I probably was a little old to be playing squirrel in the cat house. But that's just who I am. So, sadly, I couldn't find the picture but I do have some to help illustrate.
Imagine this girl:
Inside of this luxuriously upholstered cat condo:
Note in the first picture you can see the cat to gauge relative size. But no, that's not the position I was in in the cat box. And I was most likely wearing at least ears if not a tail to complete the whole squirrel effect. Like this:
That is a goat named Sebastian I am feeding.
