"Is it a triceratops being eaten by a blueberry?" "Is it a flat whale, and also seaweed? The whale's really flat, grandma." "No, Livi, you wait and see." But I didn't like waiting, like all five year olds, and remember just looking at the silly embroidery and having pity on grandma. Poor old grandma didn't realize it was a hopeless cause, it was nothing like anything, except maybe a five headed blue martian on a greenish planet shaped like a platypus. I remember sitting there watching the whole mess of colors, and random threads hanging everywhere, and saying to myself that sometimes you just have to throw it out and start again. I told grandma this (five year olds are rude) and she said that no, all her yarn had already been purchased and set apart for her use, and she wasn't going to waste it. So I sat there, but my concentration unraveled, so I went to water her daffodils. With my leftover cola, if I remember right.
Now, fast forward to next Tuesday (I don't actually remember what day it was, so I'm going with Tues) and there is this amazing picture on the wall of her entryway of a bunch of flowers growing wild on a hill, with a bright sky as the background. I said wow grandma, I love that painting. Where did you get it from? She said it wasn't a painting, it was embroidery. I said umm... broidery? What's that? And she went on to explain that it was what she was working on so hard last week with her yarn and needles. I said but grandma that's impossible. What you were making was so messy and didn't look like anything (except maybe my room when I was five). She just smiled and said sometimes, dear, you can't see the progress on the other side.
I remember going home that day and watching Dad driving. After a while I said Dad, did you know grandma can paint with string? He said do you mean embroidery? I said yeah that's it. And then I watched Dad driving for a while. I said Dad, did it take you a long time to drive? Is it hard? He said yes, it's slow progress. I said like embroidery? He looked at me and said well you know Livi, maybe everything's like embroidery, especially us.