It was four hours in the making, but this was the page that made me understand the truth in the old adage, “it’s not the destination, but the journey that matters.”My youngest daughter was three when she took the photos used in this layout. We had stopped in at my mum’s on our way home from the nearby beach, and I was enjoying a coffee with her while the evening light streamed in through the window. The golden glow of the sunset reminded me of one of my favourite childhood memories – a simple memory of waking up early on a weekend morning to find mum whistling to herself while sitting at the table reading a newspaper. Nostalgia. Love it. Which is one reason why this is one of my favourite scrapbook pages.
The other thing that makes this page a fav is the fact that everything on it was hand-stitched into place. And not so much because I wanted a hand-stitched look, but because I had run out of glue and tape and was undergoing some serious scrap-booking withdrawals. As it turns out, stitching is not my skill. I mean, would it take anyone else four grueling hours to stitch that layout together?
Despite my apparent complaint, I’m really not complaining. I actually found the process almost meditative. And for a fleeting moment, it made me understand why people enjoy cross-stitch and crochet so much (I have tried to crochet. I tried until my eyeballs bled. But crochet is way too fiddly for my fumbly fingers. Which is such a bugger as I really really want to cover my entire home in granny squares…)
Within the repetitive action of stitching, stitching, unstiching, unstitching, stitching, unstitching, I felt all the stresses of my day just melt away.
, “I became the calm little center of the world. I was the Zen master,”
– Fight Club
I was calm alright. I was calm to the point of comatose. Which probably accounted for the need to do quite a fair bit of unstitching…