So there I was...minding my very own business, when I turned to Stewey and said:
"Stewey, Mommie is positively va-clempt with a serious case of on-wee. What could possibly be wrong with me that I'm not reading, writing, stitching, blogging, cooking, or sleeping?"
At which point Stewey peered over the top of his little reading glasses and the New Yorker that he was perusing and said:
"Mo-ther. It is August. We go through this little exercise every year at this time. I suspect that the reason why you are feeling so out of sorts is that you have come to the sad realization that your summer did not, in fact, turn out at all as you had hoped...much like the previous 46 summers have. Perhaps if you just dialed down the expectation meter a bit, stopped agonizing about all of the coulda shoulda woulda's in you life, and just got on with it, we could steer this particular little goat rodeo in the right direction once and for all. Now go get me a cookie and stop that complaining, or I'll give you something to complain about."
Stewey's right. It IS August. And in looking back over this here blog, I see that I hit the very same wall at the very same time each and every year. THIS year, though, I'm finally going to attribute it to a whole bunch of crap that is entirely beyond my control and...just...move...on.
My Jersey Boy didn't come for his scheduled visit because he broke his ankle playing squash. Yup. Squash. From what I can tell, this was the third major "incident" that he's had playing said squash...we've had the heart attack, the concussion, and now the broken ankle. Hmmmm. Methinks it's time to consider backgammon.
Anywhoose....once the physical therapy has concluded and he is up and about again, I can expect another marathon cleaning session to ready Chez Spinster for a nice long visit. (I have visions of Ozzy and Harriet dancing in my head, but with my luck and propensity for disaster it will be more Ozzy and Sharon, I'm sure.)
I think that my stitchy slump is due to the fact that it's not really summer still, yet it's not really autumn yet. So rather than trying to fit the square peg in the round hole again, I think I'm just going to park my heiney in the studio this weekend and come up with a nice big fat basket full of things that will make my stitchy heart sing, no matter what the season may be. I know for sure that I want to finish my Laura J. Perin Autumn House, and I would imagine that there are several other fun things up there that will do the trick....it's just a matter of pouring the dietCoke and getting to it.
So that's the report from Lake WoeBeSpinster. I'm sorry that my absence has caused you any undue fretting. Sometimes I forget that there are actually other people on this big blue marble that sometimes read (or shake their heads in pitiful dismay) over me and my crazypants life. Thank you, though, for checking in and making me fell so very.....loved.
Stewey and Aunt Chrissy and Bosco all send their very best. We are armed with good intentions for the weekend ahead, but have dashed any bright ideas that we might have had yesterday about going to the zoo. (What can I say? Aunt Chrissy and I are suckers for marketing, and as we watched the commercial for upcoming events at the local zoo, we both said "Hey! Let's go to the zoo!" like it was something that we had done a thousand and one times before.) (For the record, we have not.)
We'll be back soon with updates and more tales, I promise. In the meantime, please know that we hope your weekend is full of everything that blows your skirt up and much much more!