Sometimes, friends, the best mischief is the long…slow… one. Any miscreant can be naughty on the spur of the moment—blurt out something crude but funny, knock over something priceless, strew the sidewalk with banana peels and the bathroom floor with jacks—but it takes a Master Mischiefician to pull off the long con, the impracticably complex practical joke, the well-crafted work of mayhem that ages like a fine wine.
The human female has just discovered such a one, made by yours truly.
You may recall that over-ambitious needlework project she’s been working on for years now. It took her forever to chart it, and she’s been plugging away at the stitching since February of last year, as much as her feeble joints will allow.
She’s fairly satisfied. I will admit, the stitching part of it does look pretty good. But she’s been plagued by shiny hoop-marks that show up every time she takes the project out of the hoop to store it.
See? There’s one right there. (Also cat hair.)
In the right light, they’re actually quite noticeable, especially since the fabric is black. She can’t think how they’re happening, because I very helpfully wrapped her hoop with twill tape for her, a trick every needlewoman knows for keeping the fabric taut and the stitches un-abraded. Expensive hoop, too, so what the the heck is going on?
Very carefully wrapped. That bottom hoop fits snugly inside the top hoop and…
Wait for it.
The light is dawning.
It’s only a wee 40-watt bulb, but I think she’s beginning to see just where things are going wrong.
Bing! It’s the outside, top hoop that’s supposed to be wrapped, so that it doesn’t ever touch the face of the stitching.
Like a fine wine, friends, like a fine wine.