June Newsletter

I have been calling the July/August issue “the miracle issue” because it practically took a miracle to get it done and to the printer. We had some staffing changes right after the May/June issue mailed which added a little more work to our days, but we are handling it.

I have been dealing with an arthritic knee for a long-time, but it had gotten progressively worse over that last few years. I suffered through the pandemic wearing a knee brace and taking over the counter pain meds. In March I decided I couldn’t gimp around anymore and started the process for total knee replacement surgery which was scheduled for May 19^th.

A few weeks before my surgery, my 96-year-old Dad, Lyn Davenport, had a stroke. My husband Jay and I rushed to Kentucky to be with him and were pleasantly surprised that he seemed to be improving. I made the choice to go ahead with the surgery. I worked long days before surgery so the magazine could stay on schedule. The copy had been written and edited, charts were built, and the photography was done. I planned on being off work for one week and then I could stay off my leg while working on layouts. Sounds reasonable, right? Not only is knee replacement a big, big surgery, the first few weeks post-surgery are hellish! On those pain scale charts that the doctors show you and ask what level your pain is, mine was “please just shoot me and put me out of my misery” and I have a high pain tolerance!  When you are that uncomfortable you can’t sleep. I’ve been known to sleep through anything, but this new kind of hell had me lying there watching the clock all day and night, tracking when I could take more medication. Nurse Jay oversaw dispensing the medications, thank God, because I would have overdosed by accident because I just wanted the pain to stop.

True to my plan, after the first week I went back to work. I could prop myself up in bed enough to use my laptop for an hour at a time. The work was a good distraction from my discomfort. And then I got the phone call – my Dad had passed away on May 26^th, one week after my surgery. The doctors strongly discouraged me from traveling before six weeks post-surgery because of the risk of blood clots forming in the lower part of my leg from sitting for extended periods of time on a plane.

I have a close relationship with my younger sister who has been Dad’s guardian for the past ten years, and she agreed to hold off on Dad’s funeral until I could travel. I’m pushing it a little by traveling to the east coast to bury him next week, five weeks post-surgery, but I can’t imagine not being able to attend his funeral and to honor him.

I want to tell you just a little about my Dad: this man has supported the needlework industry for many, many years. My mother was an avid needlepointer and Dad never denied her anything she wanted or needed to do what she loved, stitch. He would take her to needlepoint stores, mount her canvases on stretcher bars and he even learned how to do woodworking so he could frame her pieces. When she became too ill to drive, he would take her to her ANG and EGA meetings. When I bought Needlepoint Now, the previous owner kept all the money from the unfulfilled subscriptions and I needed enough cash to pay the bills for my first issue. Banks wouldn’t even give me the time of day, but my dad believed in me and gave me the money I needed. He said he didn’t care if I ever paid him back, but I did less than a month later. He always asked for extra copies of the magazine which he would pass out to anyone who would take one. He was my cheerleader and he never failed to tell me how proud he was of me. I tell people that if Lyn Davenport hadn’t been around, many a needlework shop wouldn’t have made it and Needlepoint Now wouldn’t be in existence. He was a true patron of the art of needlepoint.

I would like to thank my staff, proofreaders and contributors for helping me get the July/August issue to the printer on time. A huge thank you to my husband Jay for helping me set up an office in our bedroom and not minding that I have worked nights and weekends over the last two months taking little to no time for him or anything else. Thank you, dear reader, for your support and for listening to a tired publisher ramble on about her trials and tribulations.

P.S. If you find errors in the July/August issue, please be kind and remember that I was heavily medicated through much of the production.