It's the morning after Halloween and I am the only one up. The rest of my brood is sugared out, still in their post-candy coma and the quiet this morning is stupendous.
We probably had 300 hundred trick-or-treaters last night. Elsas and Batmen and more Elsas, little babies in strollers, and lots of fur-babies in super-dog costumes. It's the Halloween night you can imagine on our charmed street, a bit of the past still thriving here. It was a representation of how I feel about my friends these days, from my neighbors to ones states away, and to those across this computer screen.
It's taking an entire village to raise me.
Last night, after I took off my witch costume, I rehooped the 2013 Woodland Sampler. Yes, I know it's 2014, almost 2015, but let's not focus on that. The point is, I rehooped the canvas last night, and settled in for an hour of quiet stitching.
In my haste , I accidentaly clipped threads on the month title. I growled, thinking, I'm finally getting my booty in gear to get July finished and this is just one more thing I will have to repair. Feeling quite sorry for myself, I almost put the hoop away. I could just read, I thought to myself. I can do that with my eyes closed.
Instead, I got out more thread. I couldn't put this hoop away AGAIN. Poor Woodland Sampler, mega cute and nowhere to go and it's all my fault for not paying attention to it all year. I threaded my needle for a couple of reinforcement stitches.
Do you have reinforcements?
Who is your village?
Type-A people like me think we can do it all, until we can't. It's a blessing until it becomes a burden and we become lost in our to-do lists and running in circles, not knowing when and where to put on the brakes. What happens is that we unravel, maybe a couple of stitches. Not horribly debilitating, not even noticeable until you come up close, when the fray is simply a fuzz. Underneath this canvas is where it shows, which is kind of a criss-cross of this thing called tryingtokeepittogether.
Your village is important because they see the fuzz. They double up and slip right in, against all of the happenings of everyday life that had gotten temporarily chaotic. They weather the sass, the confused look of someone trying to process what they are saying because we are thinking of something else entirely. Somehow they knew all we wanted was their presence. That them being there, still smiling at you was that reinforcement stitch.
The process literally took four minutes. It took longer for me to deliberate if I should do it. But that's how powerful a village works. A little stitch here, a pop of color there. The flourish of a single gold thread just because. They add to the landscape of the fabric, making it completely unique to another Woodland Sampler, done by someone else. In the end, the canvas is twice strong because of them.
So go hug/tweet/email your village people today. Happy November 1st!