My empty hands mock me

I’ve done it again. Gone and overworked a whole new set of muscles that are now plaguing me with tiny shoots of needling pain. Apropos, really, as I acquired this most recent set of hurties via needling.

The story is this: Tonia’s mum moved into an assisted living facility earlier this year. In the course of clearing her mum’s house, Tonia happened upon a small stash of craft projects, in varying stages of completion. One of them, a lovely partially embroidered linen tablecloth, she brought home for me to finish.

It’s a very old project, only about 25% done when it arrived, though now it’s closer to 40%. The linen has yellowed with age, and it’s been sitting so long I fear the creases from folding have become permanent. My embroidery skills were a bit rusty, still, I decided to take it on, grateful for something, anything, with which to fill my hands.

So this is the project with which I’ve been lately keeping my non-knitting hands busy during the dead zone of evening telly watching. It’s coming along beautifully, and my embroidery skills are growing, thanks in no small part to my battered copy of Mary Thomas’s Dictionary of Embroidery Stitches. (First Edition. A boot sale score. I paid 50p. Rejoice with me.) I’ve been using the table cloth as a sort of sampler, to practice new stitches on, and I suppose I’ve been a bit… well… “obsessive” is such a strong word. Let’s just say, “Carried away.”

Yesterday evening I noticed shooting pain at the base of my thumb. Not good. In the old days, before I got smart about pain, I’d have popped a pill and carried on. But I am learning. Oh yes, I am.

When I purchased the Frozen Shoulder Workbook, I also ordered it’s counterpart, the Trigger Point Therapy Workbook, a more general guide to identifying trigger points in parts of the body other than shoulders. The current cause of my wrist pain, I read, happens to be a trigger point in my flexor carpi radialis, a muscle in my forearm. I read the cause of the pain aloud to Tonia.

The hand flexors are abused by excessive gripping, pulling and twisting actions with the hands.

General hilarity ensued, as there’s not much one can do but laugh, and of course that description pretty much sums up the motions of embroidery, right there. I am a hand flexor abuser, apparently.

I’m working on the new trigger point, as trigger point therapy is working in other areas of my body, and my shoulder is much better for it. I’ve put the embroidery away for a while. Really away; with the knitting, where I can’t see it, and won’t be tempted. And I’m in the market again for a something to do with my hands in the evening, besides sit on them.