My fingers felt like these tree branches. The weather has been bitter cold the last week. We had snow on Friday, and it hasn't melted yet. When I got to the studio the thermostat on my space heater said 35 degrees. As I worked, it only got up to 37. I stayed for an hour and stitched a bit. Ironed some things hoping for some residual heat. Finally I gave up when my toes got tingly. I am impatient for warmer days when I can spend more than an hour or two in comfort. The romantic in me imagines artists throughout history working through winter chills.
I brought a small piece home and stitched in my 70 degrees instead. So much for moving all the art to the studio.
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