I rummaged in the fabric drawer, looking for a place that could contain us all, to embroider between now and Christmas.
A cloud of pitch behind my eyes swallowed every glimmer of thought: hard times for my neurons…. The smoke from my synapses rose beyond the hills.
I scrambled for colours disconsolately and was depressed by the idea that I would have to cancel our engagement.
Unwillingly closing the door, I had slumped into the chair in my embroidery corner, mumbling something about the cold and Alfredo’s homework, wrapped in a flattened wool jumper. I had tugged nervously at my thread bag because it had caught on the lamp screw and I had slammed a few lids to look for my glasses.
Then I had unrolled the fabric.
A breath of icy air had then brushed past my ear, but a sudden warmth, almost as if to drive it away, had begun to spread as a flickering light dawned in the darkness of a corner of the room. Where before was emptiness, a fireplace began to crackle and, as I looked up, slowly the figure of a window took shape. Placidly, I lined up the threads on the table, occasionally checking the progress of the apparition.
The shadow of a smile rose between contracted lips.
The countryside unfolded white and snowy beyond the window, illuminated by the small flickering lights, as many as there were windows of the tiny houses that dotted the landscape all around the lake and as far as the horizon.
There you are, each at your own window, gazing at the snow, astonished and bewitched, like mine. Our eyes sparkle and no words are needed.
It is that moment there.
That of the hands unrolling the fabric. No place is needed.
With a nod of the head, we make an appointment, for Sunday 19th, to start embroidering. Each in his own way. And I will tell mine.
I have chosen a Graziano 6262 cremè linen and the design and colours specified in the Christmas 2023 e-book. Any sheet linen, or a fabric with a tight weave, will do. I promise myself to iron it well for Sunday when I’ll draw the design on the fabric. I will show how I do it.
And, should a little door appear in the meantime, I see paths beyond my windowsill and I feel curiosity advancing.
Each with their own piece for Christmas.
But to follow the thread of mine…. This is the link to the drawing: