So it is finally, FINALLY finished. I am cutting this albatross from around my neck, I am relinquishing the search for the white whale, and I am giving up my pursuit of that sweet-voiced, flower-named lady. Well, really only one of those in an apt comparison, as I am not losing, nor giving up the fight. See, once I was little crocheting Christeen, wide-eyed and innocent, eagerly pumping out scarves and pretty puffs hats. I had talent! Life was easy! And so the story goes. But of course little Christeen wasn’t satisfied with her simple projects. She needed intricacies, commitment, complication! And thus began the age of the Temair Throw. Manageable at first, multiples of circular flower motifs, easily completed at home and on the go, with an intriguing amount of varied stitching. It was almost like the crazed circles and I were meant for each other. I soaked up the pure joy of the hours spent obsessing as my fingers moving around the complex petal patterns. But then, there was the inevitable. I finished my dependable and ingenious circles, the end was in sight. And of course, I then realized the ultimate fate of anyone who attempts the throw pattern. The grasshopper spent all summer merrily crocheting circles, while the industrious ant mentally prepared itself for the long winter of sewing the motifs together. It took a long time, not so much of actual sewing, but of getting over how boring I knew the sewing to be. I think I actually completed it in a few days. Space and time lost a little bit of meaning after this. But, here is my opus, the majestic physicality of numerous hours of my life. It did turn out really fabulous in that color.