The Game is Afoot

Crafting is a solitary endeavor. While the final products are gifted and shared and passed down, the act of creation happens alone. Hours spent slicing fabric and fingers with blades you guard with your life and threaten bodily harm should someone else DARE cut their hair with the fabric scissors or trim the bonsai with the detailing paper scissors. Gluing, sewing, sanding, punching done in just the right form with just the right materials creates art.

My preferred craft these days is cross-stitch. I started cross-stitching because it was idiot-proof. It’s color by number but with fabric and thread. The stitches are making “x”s and drawing lines. You only mess up if you forget how to count. The holes are pre-punched in Aida fabric and floss is 60 cents a skein. It’s easily transportable and I don’t have to sit behind a machine or be out in a workshop. I can stitch at a doctor's appt, a soccer game, a zoom meeting, or while we’re settled in to watch a family movie.

When we formed our blended family, I was a crafter who warned my husband-to-be that he would have to sacrifice housing space for my work. There had to be room for my three sewing machines, a stash of yarn, and scrapbooks equal to the number of years the children have been alive. He was a gamer and had already devoted a chunk of our soon-to-be-shared home to his own hobby. Not video games and devices as so many do these days. Instead, our front room is filled with board games. I know what some of you are thinking: Monopoly and Scrabble. Sorry, but our shelves sport Settlers of Catan (the original and the Star Trek version), Carcassonne (the Big Box with all six expansions), and Wingspan - as a sample. These games bring us to the table to laugh and tell stories, to work together, or to work against each other. Sometimes we play with our older parents who still love to win at Cribbage. Sometimes with our children who are slowly learning to beat us at our own game. And sometimes with neighbors and friends who might hold different political views, but everyone can agree that it would be nice if SOMEONE rolled a nine so we could all get some sheep!

In December 2020, almost five years after the crafter and the board gamer got married, I started what I refer to as the Massive Board Game Bonanza stitch. It’s laid out like a Catan board - 20 hexagons. Each one is a scene from a game we’ve played. Every time I finish a block, I unroll it and we look at it.

“That’s Blockus,” I’ll note, “The only game you kids would play 7 years ago. And get mad when you couldn't find a space to play anymore.”

“Star Trek Catan over there. The first birthday gift Dan ever gave me. It’s signed by original Star Trek cast member Walter Koenig. When do I get to meet George Takai?”

“Over there is King of Tokyo. Remember playing that after you fell rollerblading at Ripon College where the high school forensics team we were coaching was competing? Melvin made finals and you made friends with the cute college girl EMTs who bandaged your knee.”

Then, I get asked, "What’s coming next?"

“Well, one is going to be a Beholder.”

“We are HERBALISTS!” Someone will inevitably shout and we’ll all laugh remembering their character from our last Dungeons and Dragons campaign.

“This will be the close-up of the Thames from Sherlock Holmes: Consulting Detective.”

“I can’t believe we forgot to go to the crime scene that one time. Best score ever - zero plus Moriarty. Holmes should not hire us again.”

And then I keep changing my mind on what comes next. Terraforming Mars wasn’t in the original plan, but it’s our new family favorite. We played it the day that Perseverance touched down on the Red Planet. During a recent round of Wingspan, all four of us playing scored 41 points. But our daughter was declared the winner because she had the most food remaining - and she so rarely wins.

This stitch, a solitary project I’ve invested hours in charting and matching and stitching, has become a group project. From what should go here to what should come next to “can you show me how to do that?”

Two of my gaming friends have since become cross-stitch friends as well. One stitching a video game character for their brother with Down’s Syndrome from a game they always played together as kids. One stitching a piece of art they created digitally that will now live as a different kind of pixel art. During the Pandemic, we would show off our progress every Tuesday before starting that evening’s virtual game. And now that we’re back together, we stitch in person at the table shuttling scissors, needles, and thread as much as dice and cards.

Much like the world, starting any given piece is an x here and an x there with acres of blank canvas in between. By the end, it’s a million little kisses - words or moments - that are no longer individual events but have painted a larger picture of our favorite moments together.