I’m not sure how it is in your home, but around here my needlework is accepted fairly well. I think the only issue my husband really has is that I continue to buy more stash when I already have a lifetime’s worth. And also that I still haven’t stitched a Chinese-style dragon for him, like I promised over 15 years ago…
Anyway, I came across this great poem today and thought that all of you would enjoy it.
The Husband’s Complaint
I’ve heard of wives too musical–too talkative–too quiet
Of scolding and of gaming wives and those too fond of riot;
But yet of all the errors I know, which to the women fall;
For ever doing fancy work, I think exceeds them all.
The other day when I went home no dinner was for me,
I asked my wife the reason; she answered, “One, two, three.”
I told her I was hungry and stamped upon the floor.
She never even looked at me, but murmured “One green more.”
If any lady comes to tea, her bag is first surveyed,
And if the pattern pleases her, a copy there is made.
She stares too at the gentleman, and when I ask her why,
Tis, “Oh my love, the pattern of his waistcoat struck my eye.”
Ah? The misery of a working wife, with fancy work run wild;
And hands that never do aught else for husband or for child;
Our clothes are rent, our bills unpaid; my house is in disorder;
And all because my lady wife has taken to embroider.
~ M. T. Morrall, A History of Needlemaking, 1852