Ill advised

A few years ago I was in one of my favorite little shops in Snohomish, Washington and I saw a table runner (although small for a table runner--a place mat?) that I fell in love with.

It was made of felt and was blanket stitched.  I thought, "I can make myself one of those!"

I bought a little bit of felt but I already had some felt so I started cutting out circles.  (Why didn't someone stop me?)

I didn't exactly know how big I was going to make the table runner because that's not how I live my life, but I kept cutting out circles and cutting out circles and I figured I might as well use up all the felt.  (Why didn't someone stop me?)

About a year and a half ago, I was out of felt so I started pinning circles onto a long black piece of felt.  (Why didn't someone stop me?)

Then I started blanket stitching.  It was an on again, off again proposition and I worked doggedly through every General Conference and then I'd pick it back up occasionally.  I made quite a bit of progress when my knee was hurt.

Once I was working on it and I said to Adam, "You know what?  I don't even use table runners that much."

He just looked at me and laughed.

I was finally (finally!) narrowing in on finishing the darn thing.  Over this last conference I was stitching and stitching and stitching and I wanted to hurl the thing out the window but I kept going.

I realized it took me 1/2 hour to do each set of three circles.  There are 150 sets of circles.  Just thinking about that makes me want to cry.  (WHY DIDN'T SOMEONE STOP ME?)

Late Sunday night, I had two set of circles to go.  Adam and Emma were upstairs but Mark was in the basement with me.  He is at that delightful (delightful?) teenage stage where he has definite opinions and makes irrefutable statements about random things.  He told me that it was scientifically proven that if I quit before I was done, my brain would keep returning to it and it would bother me so I should just finish.

I said, "I think scientifically, I'd better just finish then."

Mark was like a proud papa.  He sat by me and kept saying encouraging things.  "I'm so proud of you Mom!" and  "You can do it!"

Finally I finished!  I wrapped it around Mark's shoulders (it looked like a Boy Scout merit badge sash).  Mark covered himself with another blanket then walked upstairs.  He assembled Adam and Emma and TA DA! he took off the blanket and revealed the table runner.  Adam and Emma showed appropriate interest and made congratulatory remarks.  But Mark hugged me and kissed me over and over and told me again how proud he was of me.

We were walking upstairs to bed and Mark said, "So Mom?  What are you going to do with the table runner?"

I don't know.  I don't think I want to talk about it.

why didn't someone stop me?