Cramming

For our first Christmas together (before I even had the ring on my finger), I painstakingly (and painfully) handstitched complementary stockings for Werner and I. Both of white fleece, one with green trim and the other with red.

As it happens, I had heaps of fleece left. And, me being me, I felt I ought to make a co-ordinating stocking for Jakob.

I don't have a sewing machine, so it isn't an aesthetic decision to handstitch a Christmas stocking.

And as I'm sure I've mentioned before, everything takes far longer now.

So it was the week before Christmas before I dug out the fleece and the kraft paper pattern I'd sketched for the original stockings.

I stayed up past 1 am the first time, tracing the pattern onto the fleece and cutting out the pieces, all while trying to distract the cat who desperately wanted to play with the scissors.

A few days later, I got a chance to sit down. I started to stitch on the trim (ok, this part is hand-stitched because of an aesthetic preference; I use a blanket stitch). And I messed it up.

So, finally, after Werner and Jakob went to bed last night, I picked it all up again.

At 3 am, Werner got up to give Jakob a bottle. I was just getting ready to go to bed. I'd gotten all the trim blanket-stitched and had started to sew together the two halves of the stocking before realising that I could no longer see straight and that my fingers really hurt.

I finally got another chance on the afternoon of Christmas Eve. It was either that or be up again all night... I finally finished the thing just in time to get ready for church.

The whole experience reminded me of student days, struggling to finish a paper or study for an exam as the minutes slipped away in double-time. I even looked the haggardly part.

And the punchline? I know Jakob could not have cared less. But it mattered to me. And these days I don't get to do much that matters to me. (Hell, I don't even get to do the things I need to do, nevermind what would make me happy.) And so I had to do it.