Friday, September 18, 2009

They're not really dead as long as we have their morbid sampler.

I got Picture It in Cross Stitch from the library.  Which is designed to make corny samplers of your family and garden and such.  I naturally look at it and think "mischief."

In my copy--I think the linked version is slightly different--there is an old timey sampler verse:

When this you see remember me
And bear me in your mind;
And be not like the weathercock
That turn at every wind.
When I am dead and laid in grav
And all my bones are rotten,
By this may I remembered be
When I should be forgotten  (1736)

Apparently in day's of yore it was perfectly acceptable for young ladies to sit around, making samplers with morbid little poems.  And when I see something like those last four lines, I think, "Is there a hilariously inappropriate cheerful design I can put around this?  Like the chart of the baby sliding down a rainbow?"

Given my history, I'm sure I'd be institutionalized if somebody found me stitching something like these:

When I am dead and worms me eat
Here you shall see my name complete.

Mother dear weep not for me
When in this yard my grave you see
My time was short and blessed was he
That called me to eternity

For one thing, planting bulbs is hard enough in "this yard".  I don't even want to think about burying a human body.  I think any hamsters or whatever were buried in the woods next to the house or very close to it, and Garfield didn't give us the option.  (I got a rock.)

Unlike these dead Colonial to Victorian consumptives, my legacy will have to be what a sad nerd I was.   And when I'm dead you can look at my Perler Bead recreation of Mortal Kombat II or a cross stitch of Batman Returns Catwoman and know that I'm smiling up at you.

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