Sundays seem made for sewing, for stitching up everything in sight. Today I was going to finish the back for the T-shirt quilt, get it on the frame and plan the quilting. I also wanted to make a couple of small projects and possibly a couple of quilts. OK, maybe I am exaggerating a bit but you get the idea, there were all kinds of possibilities for today. My husband and I started off for the Farmers' Market before breakfast on this day for all kinds of stitching. However, it was not meant to be as this ended up being a Stitchless Sunday.
We were just walking up and apparently there was a molecule of air that was out of place because my foot slipped out of my sandal, I staggered forward a bit and then fell flat on my face. Ouch. Blood. Double ouch with a twist of embarrassment. People rushed to help me and all I really wanted to do was to lie there and have the earth swallow me up. Or wake up from a dream? Or get a do over? Couldn't I just take those steps again?
If you ever doubt the goodness of your fellow man, do a face plant in the middle of a Farmers' Market. I was offered paper towels, water, ice, wet paper towels and maybe a condo share in Barbados. OK, I might not have heard that last offer as I was a bit dazed. A nurse whose name I did not get nor whose face did I see was particularly compassionate and kind.
They cleaned me up, gave me antibiotics and debated whether or not to stitch my split lip. If you ever want to bleed a lot, by the way, bust your lip open. Spectacular amounts of blood. If they stitched it up, the scar would be thinner but the potential of puffing out from where they stitched. If they didn't there was the potential of a thicker but flatter scar.
Hmm, stitch or not. I may be a quilter but sometimes you elect not to stitch and this was one of those times. Not only were my sewing plans scuttled but my lip is not stitched and is working on one heck of a bruise around the whole area.
Sew it was a no stitch Sunday all the way around. But don't worry it wasn't a waste of a trip to the Urgent Care, they gave me an antibiotic for the bacteria which apparently lives in my mouth. And my husband and I both got our flu shots, how's that for multi tasking?
Now I need a much better story for this fat lip and scraped palms. Several friends have suggested that my cover story for my students tomorrow is that I was in a bar fight. Exotic but the closest I've been to a bar fight is this Manet painting of a Parisian bar. Not quite the same, huh?
A key element will be a burning building, say a house. I am, naturally, the hero.
What do you think?
No, I don't think it will fly either. I guess I will have to stick with falling at the Farmers' Market.
And the kindness of all those strangers? Now that makes me Sew happy!
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Is this my only post about the Frankfort Farmers' Market? No, oddly enough I wrote about it earlier this year. Check it out.