DMC Threads

For the month of June, I read zero books. This was because I started cross-stitching again, and finally completed a kit that I had purchased and first started way back in 2014. In the interim, I've 1) finished two MAs, 2) gotten married, 3) had a child, 4) moved across the country, and lastly 5) purchased a house, so let's just say a lot has been happening since I first started this cross stitch, to when I finally completed it 6 years later.

Anyway I have since moved on to try my hand at embroidery, which to the dismay of my hands involves a needle that is a lot sharper. I have since managed to poke out chunks of skin, which really stings when I do housework. Bodily damage aside, this has also meant that as I move away from kits that come with prepared colour threads, I now need to purchase threads.

Enter the DMC embroidery shelf. Since I have started (or re-started) this particular type of craftwork, I have spent close to 15 minutes in front the DMC shelves at Michaels and (today especially), Joann Fabric. I am starting to think that E is close to developing a huge aversion to the sight of the DMC shelf, because I invariably end up spending far more time there than her toddler mind can appreciate. The DMC shelf means I will stand still there, bending forwards and backwards and shuffling too and fro as I pick the 'perfect' colours, all while she is just stuck to me in a backwards facing front baby carrier (safest way to bring her around in the era of COVID). It means I will not be moving from aisle to aisle, giving her new things to look at. For this ill-behaviour on my part, I will be subjected to 1) mask pulling, 2) face slapping, 3) audible complaining and some shrieking, 4) weird stretches and flinging about.

All this parental abuse is worth it I suppose, as I sit here in front of the computer admiring my new hoard. At 60 cents a skein of thread, it's a relatively cheap hobby to go wild on, though I feel the skin on my hands is already tingling in imagined punishment.