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whimbroiderywhen i can find them, i buy old linen napkins from charity shops, with a vague idea of a future where i will have a table grand enough for my great-grandmother’s twelve meter long brilliant white damask table cloth. my mum has been wanting to cut it down, make it useful for ordinary use in an ordinary home, but i always tell her no! one day i shall have ten meters of dining room table. it is something to aspire to.

that day is not today, though, and i am but a poor girl (oh, if not for the russian revolution…but that is a story for another day) and poor girls in need use what they have at hand, while still keeping their dreams safe in the knowledge that there will always be more linen napkins.

and oh, i was in need. in terrible need. as the discworld’s death says: “human beings make life so interesting. do you know, that in a universe so full of wonders, they have managed to invent boredom.”

yes, my dear ones, i was bored. not a little bit bored, not let’s go for a walk bored, or i could always work on my to be read pile bored, not even there are pictures of cats on the internet! bored, but bored enough that i just couldn’t be bothered, bored enough to spend hours playing mindnumbing minigames that i don’t even enjoy, and i kept telling myself to stop it but i couldn’t, because my brain was at an impasse.  but then i invented a Secret Weapon: the Whimbroidery! improvised, haphazard, a stream of consciousness in cloth and embroidery floss. there is no pattern, i don’t rip the imperfect stitches out, i just thread the needle and let it go.

it could go anywhere. i’m looking forward to finding out.

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