I have a terrible habit of thinking I can do or make everything myself, and unless it's a pretty basic sandwich, that simply is not true. "Pfft, I can weave that rug", "Pfft, I can bake my own bread", "Pfft, I can diagnose myself".
So when I hear myself say "I can embroider like that", I'm starting to feel a bit like a crazy person. What is this fantasy land I live in? I have no magic and I can feel the cold. I don't even have any peanut butter at home. What sort of person chooses this kind of fantasy to live in? A crazy person. And that's me.
I love this embroidery, and I wish I had a grandma that did this sort of stuff. My grandma plays bingo and cries a lot.