IN WHICH WE PUT OUR TONY SOPRANO HAT ON

OK.

That's it.

I've officially had it.

I was Instagramming a few moments ago and discovered that somebody has attacked (yet again) our dear Vonna.

Vonna!

The same Vonna who selflessly gives so much to this thing of ours with her wit, her wisdom, her love, her charm, her dedication, and herself....even when there's probably not a lot left of herself to give.

I know that Danielle Stitcherista has also been attacked.

And Caroline Off The Grid, too!

I know I'm not alone in this sentiment, but my blood boils and I get REALLY riled up when I hear these things. My first instinct is to go completely nuclear and blast everybody and anybody who has ever made a nasty comment, and then I go looking for my plus-sized ninja costume so I might ding ding their door and give them a really good talking to and heiney smack.

Then I get up on my soap box and I hollar out instructions for how to be a person, and what proper etiquette online should look like, and all kinds of chastisements for being an ignorant, rude, unfeeling, stupid asshat and admonishments to stop doing this.

Now, though?

Now I'm channeling my inner Carmela.

If you are one of us and in this family...whether publicly or not, and you experience one SECOND of unpleasantness, call for a sit down.  Give us the name and information of the creep that has been unkind to you and let us teach this little twerp(s) what a huge mistake they've made messing with one of us.

As the expression goes..."You eff with the bull, you get the horns.  Meet the horns."

Seriously, though...I am convinced that negative comments come from negative people, and to the best of my figuring, there are no negative people here. What the heck is there to be negative about? This is a community of like-minded men and women who support, encourage, uplift, enable, teach, love, and share their lives with one another. Call me crazy, but I escape to this village to get AWAY from all of the nasty negatives, and even though it's not all sunshine and rainbows sometimes, our losses or frustrations or sadnesses are respectfully shared and the person who's down gets showered with love, not hate.

So what I'm trying to say is...

If you're one of us, this is your happy safe place. Speaking for myself....you are my friend and my family and my joy. I hope that I can provide you with love and giggles and happiness and comfort and fun, just as you do for me.

If you're not one of us and would like to be...come on in! The water is perfectly splendidly wonderful, and you will be totally and completely gobsmacked by the kindness, generosity, and loveliness of people from all over the globe.

If, however, you are somebody who gets their kicks from acting like a jackass on the internet by posting negative comments or giving random thumbs down or sending nasty notes, then go someplace else. This sandbox is full, and we have no use for you here.

Sorry.

Uncharacteristically harsh coming from me, I know, but this community has given me more than I can EVER repay, and I've got enough big hard things to do without having our safe place be invaded by idiots.

OW OW OW OW OW

There isn't a part of me that isn't sore today, but I am still a bit aglow over my frenzy yesterday. The joint is clean, I'm back on track, and now I can rest a bit before the next adventure begins.

My little pile of newspapers and mail is growing, so I think I better settle in with it before doing anything else:

I haven't looked at the paper since Friday (yikes), so I better get crackin'!

D-chair time went relatively well today and I did finish the next little area of Plum Pudding:

I finally feel like I have hit the sweet spot when it comes to a full kit. If I have a chart, fabric, threads, q-snaps, scissors, needles, needleminder, Bitsy Bob, retractable highlighter, project bag with matching grime guard, and a floss container I feel like I could conquer the world.

Gee, it only took sixteen years to figure that out!

As soon as I finish this post-d cup of damn good I'm going to jump back into the fray. For now, though, I think I'll savor the quiet and go Instagramming.

Happy Monday, Dearies! Do something savory and come tell me all about it!

WAIT....WHAAAAAHT???

JB and I went to Mass, ran a few quick errands, and came home (I think I already told you that, but oh well). One of the errands we did was a pass through the McDonald's for breakfast.

This is were I hang my head in shame and confess that I ordered a steak, egg, and cheese bagel sandwich.

I love those sandwiches. I always have. As a matter of fact, there are some days when I have considered picking up a full sack of them and eating them all at one go to make myself sick. This is the same aversion therapy technique (in reverse, I think) that I used at the Krispy Kreme to get me through the store-opening obsession.

(It worked, too. Ask me how many Krispy Kreme donuts I've had since that momentous Saturday in which I ate THREE DOZEN of them and promptly threw up four dozen.)

But I digress.

When we stopped at the Martin's, I also picked up a cranberry orange muffin from the gd can't miss it let's put this right smack dab in the middle of where you have to walk muffin cart.

Again with the shame.

So I ate both, all the while hating myself for being so weak and ruining all if the hard work I've been doing and I did a solid fifteen minutes of berating myself in the mirror for being so undisciplined.

JB went out to do his thing on the balcony and I decided to unload the dishwasher and throw a load if towels in.

Pause for you to eyeroll and guess what happens next.

I. Cleaned. Like. A. Very. Angry. Amish. Woman.

For two hours!

I slumped into the damn recliner a few minutes ago and remembered that I hadn't yet logged my breakfast. So I hopped on my app thingie (I think it's called LoseIt) and entered my slug of cranberry juice, my two cups of damn good, the monster bagel sandwich AND the gd cranberry orange muffin.

Drat. Over eight hundred calories.

That's what I have been eating for an ENTIRE DAY!

So I resolved to have nothing else for the rest of the day, cursed my bad choices one more time, and then folded a load of towels.

In the middle of a washcloth, I tilted my head to the side like a labradoodle and thought "Gee. I wonder if all that housecleaning counts as exercise?"

You bet your big fat sweet bippie it does! ALMOST 600 calorie's worth!

I have never been so freakin glad to have cleaned my apartment as I was when I realized I could eat more than water for dinner tonight.

I won't go crazy, I promise. A sensible salad and a bite or two of the sausage, peppers, onions, and potatoes I made for JB...but I didn't completely ruin Operation GO!!!

Tomorrow will see me back on the smoothie/salad wagon, but it sure is nice to know that I CAN have a nice little treat every now and then as long as I go to town with some activity.

Happy Sunday, Dearies!  Have something wonderful to eat and come tell me all about it!

IN WHICH WE PAUSE TO PONDER

I'm participating in the #commonthreadedstitcher challenge over on the Instagram, and today's theme was "Most complex/complicated finish".

Most of the participants are cross stitchers and are showing fully finished objects that they have completed, but as we all know, fully finishing objects is just not my forte'.

(Remember the tragic glue gun incident of 2008 and the weeks and weeks in which I was grounded from my studio and anything remotely related to finishing? Stewey bitched about the glitter and debris in the rug (and in my hair, his hair, on the happy chair, and everywhere else) for months.)

So my share was Tony Minieri's Stars for the Millennium, because in the sixteen years or so that I've been stitching I have never been more absorbed by or proud of or moved by something I've stitched.

I stitched my version of Stars in 2011 during the ten-year anniversary of 9/11. I knew I wanted and needed a piece that would help me remember and reflect, and what ended up happening was I found a piece that helped me pray.

Each block was more intense than the next with dozens of intricate composite stitches, but as I completed them, I felt my mind clear and my heart open up and my dialogue in my head became more about others than the usual stuff about myself. I thought about those lost, those saved, those who rose, and those who fell. I remembered both the horror and the pride, as well as the feeling of being so incredibly vulnerable, but thoroughly brave at the same time. When the last stitch was taken, I felt calmer and more peaceful than I had in a long time...like I had walked through something that reminded me of both my capabilities as well as my weaknesses.

I sat with this piece for a few minutes this morning after the hustle and bustle of getting to Mass in time, grabbing a few groceries on the way hone, and getting the laundry started. I took a minute to really look at it...to examine almost each and every stitch and thread and color, and to give myself a little pat for good work.  Given the amount of self-flagellation that normally goes on in my tiny little brain, it was nice to feel a bit of confidence and hear an "Atta' girl!" escape through slurps of damn good.

Do yourselves a favor, Dearies. Go grab your very own Stars and give it a good look-see. No negatives allowed...just bask for a few minutes in the wonderfulness of whatever it is that you created...whether it's a stitchy piece, or knitting, or coloring, or diamond painting, or pottery, or watercolor, or a fly fishing lure, or a chocolate cake, or a jigsaw puzzle....anything that cane from the work of your very own hands.

You did that. You put that into this big beautiful world of ours. You.

Enjoy that feeling, my friends! I know I will for just a few more minutes before the day takes me where it will.

Happy Sunday!

OPERATION GO...WEEKLY UPDATE

LAST WEEK'S WEIGHT: 262.7

CURRENT WEIGHT: 260.7

WEIGHT LOST THIS WEEK: 2

FIRST GOAL: 252

GOAL WEIGHT TO GET A NEW KIDNEY: 242

ULTIMATE LIFETIME GOAL: 160

DEAR SWEET MOTHER OF GOD, THEY FINALLY GOT IT RIGHT

Every year the University of Notre Dame, along with their uniform provider UnderPants, designs a special uniform for one of the special games, and every year on this here blog my special little spinster head explodes.

We've had the Stay-Puft Marshmallow men with gold lame helmets:

We've had the "architecturally significant" resemblance to nothing whatsoever to do with anything on campus:

Shower mold:

And the New York Yankees:

This year? Well, thanks to some kind of magic alignment of the stars, they have FINALLY gotten the damn things right. This year, Notre Dame and UnderPants will pay tribute to the 1988 National Championship team.

MY 1988 National Championship. MY friends. MY family. MY classmates who went out there and won it all for the Gipper...right there in front of God, Yours Truly, and everybody.

Finally.

A Notre Dame/UnderPants special uniform that THIS special spinster can get behind:

IN WHICH WE HAVE A DELIGHTFUL THURSDAY

Chello, Dearies.

I am home and in the damn recliner with a nice cold lemonade of the Crystal Light variety. I had hoped to be sploshing, but alas, the pool is in some kind of chemical time out, so the pool fix-it company has been called in to do their thing. No aqua therapy for me today.

This morning found me running to and fro to appointments and such, so I'm a little pooped. If everything goes according to plan, I'm going to get a few hours of stitching time in before bed, and then we'll be that much closer to the weekend.

I do, however, have a Happy Chair update. I have decided once and for all to keep him and have him recovered. Period. Full stop. End of story. The nice lady from the furniture company was here yesterday afternoon, and she agreed that with a little love, fluff, and TLC, he will be better than new and ready for another 28 years of spinster life. (Just wait 'till you see the fabric I selected! I'll let it be a surprise, but suffice it to say, it's...whimsical!)

I hope your very own Thursday is swell! Come tell me all about life in your corner of the world!

PLUM PUDDING UPDATE

CHELLO

I'm home from the procedure, Dearies, and all is well. Buzzy needed a little roto-rootering, but he should be good for another six months or so. I'm going to have a couple of cups of damn good, read the paper, and have a rest-y relax-y kind of day.

OPERATION GO...SLIGHT CHANGE OF PLANS

My coordinator at the Indiana University Transplant Unit, Miss Jane, revised my plan just a little bit. Instead of having three stages to get to GO...there are only two.

At 252 pounds, my living donors and I BOTH can begin the testing and re-testing phase.

At 242 pounds, Dr. Goggins and I will meet again and I will be officially activated and that much closer to transplant.

(At 160 pounds I'm going to launch my career as an internationally famous super model who eats waffles on yachts with Jeffrey Dean Morgan, but...baby steps, Dearies. Baby steps.)

I did really really well over the weekend with a very minimal fluid gain, so the assumption is that I probably actually lost a few more pounds. I came off the scale under my "dry weight", which is a dialysis thing, but no more peeking at the numbers until Friday afternoon.

I will confess that I could very easily eat my arm right about now...Buzzy and all...but coming here and pulling my knickers down is keeping me completely on track. Revealing this most intimate detail of my life to you has finally made me feel completely and totally accountable because I can literally feel you all pulling for me.

(Except, of course, for Betty.)

Time to make the salad, kids. Tonight's selection will include romaine hearts, celery, carrots, red bell pepper, hard boiled eggs, and black pepper.  Accompanying this culinary masterpiece will be a lovely little 2019 Crystal Light Lemonade from the Target region.

I probably won't see y'all tomorrow (anesthesia and all), but I promise to take it easy, not drive or operate any heavy machinery, and not sign any legal documents while I'm gone.

Ciao, for now!

MONDAY...MONDAY

Well, here we are again, Dearies...doing our thing in the d-chair. I had a quiet weekend, so you'd think  I'd be well-rested and in good cheer, but I am tired and slightly blech instead. (Not totally and completely blech, mind you. Just enough blech that I am more blech-ier than not.)

I didn't ply one single stitch yesterday, but I did manage to catch up on my magazine reading. I love magazines. I really do. I subscribe to a number of them and used to stay on top of reading them every Sunday, but in years past I have fallen terribly behind, especially with The New Yorker. Stewey and I shared that one, and he often handed it to me with post-it notes marking something he thought particularly apropos to my parenting skills.

Yesterday found me in the damn recliner with my damn good after Mass, etc. reading to my heart's content, though, while the laundry did its thing and JB enjoyed that blacony and his radio.

The week ahead will be interesting and busy. I am having surgery/angioplasty on my arm tomorrow, and then going to my family doc on Thursday for a check up. In between, will be a visit by the nice lady from the upholstery shop to give me an estimate on re-doing the Happy Chair. I know that I can buy a new one at the Value City for $700, but I also know the quality of my current chair must be pretty good to have lasted these 28 years and it's not likely to be repeated.. Either way, I have started my Happy Chair piggy bank and will finally pull the darn trigger in the next few months.

OK. Enough rambling. Time to get the headphones on, the Flosstube tuned in, and needle in hand. Happy Monday to one and all! Come tell me all about life in your neck of the world today!

SUNDAY...SUNDAY

We're home from Mass, the car wash, the gas station, and the Bob Evans...where everybody is somebody special according to the poster on the wall.  I am in clean fresh pajamas that I fished out of the bottom of a dresser drawer, and the laundry is happily sploshing away while JB watches the sports on the TeeVee and we contemplate going to the pool.

Here's my progress on Plum Pudding. This is the left center moteef...hopefully to be completed today!

It's going to be a steamy one, I think. If my weather thingie is correct, we're looking at a high temp of 86 today! Methinks that might be perfect stitchy weather, as long as there is some cold brew and the a/c on blast!

Happy Sunday, Dearies! Next week we're all meeting at Vonna's house for breakfast! Did you see the spread she put out!? Biscuits! And gravy! And eggs and bacon!

Vonna, when I finally drop dead (or get married...whichever comes first), will you supervise the caterers, please? 😬

SATURDAY SPINSTER BLISS

Chello, Dearies!

Well, it's Saturday again, which means I am a bit hung over, thrilled to have two days off, and contemplating a to-do list the length of my arm.

Naaaaaah.

I think I'll get my wits about me, grab my smoothie, and head to the pool. It's a beautiful day here in Hoosierville and I think a long float looking at the clouds is exactly what this spinster needs.

(Do you ever do that? Just chill and watch the clouds? I have made it part of my weekly routine, and I have to tell you...there's something about that gorgeous blue and those cotton candy fluff balls just up there doing their thing that touches me deep in my pitiful little soul.)

Stitching-wise, I made a little progress on Poppins during treatment yesterday, but she's in the car and I don't have the energy to go down the stairs and fetch her just yet. I have a huge hankering to play with Plum Pudding today, so I might go against tradition and do something different for a change. I do know that September will be full of autumnal things, and if I can manage it budget-wise, another dessert mandala from Glendon Place.

Well, will you look at that? Me getting all organized and planny and such!

I hope your weekend is off to a marvelous start and that you get to do all the things. Have some fun and come tell me all about it!

OPERATION GO...STAGE ONE...WEEK ONE REPORT

LAST WEEK'S WEIGHT: 266

CURRENT WEIGHT: 262.7

WEIGHT LOST THIS WEEK: 3.3

STAGE ONE GOAL WEIGHT: 257

STAGE TWO GOAL: 252

GOAL WEIGHT TO GET A NEW KIDNEY: 242

ULTIMATE LIFETIME GOAL: 160

WAIT A MINUTE! HOW DID THAT HAPPEN?!?!

Unless I am completely mistaken (which is entirely possible), today is WORLD CROSS STITCH DAY AND NATIONAL BOOK LOVERS DAY!

WOOOOOOHOOOOOOO!

I am wiggling my heiney in the d-chair with unmitigated glee, Dearies! Let's party!

SO ABOUT THIS DIET THING...

THANK YOU! to the hundreds of you that have written and commented with encouragement, suggestions, and support. I really truly absolutely positively appreciate each and every one of you.

My life history has been on a diet. I have done every single program, pill, video, card, and meeting available and have enjoyed and been successful on each, including the three-day hot dog diet.

Remember that one?

You basically ate air for two and a half days, and then you got to have a hot dog for dinner on day three.

Well, I might have forgotten the finer points, but I know that Valerie Murino and I did it in the eighth grade and she lost six pounds and I gained eight.

Now that I am who I am...53...peri-menopausal (any day now, please God)...sans thyroid and three parathyroids (thank you thyroid cancer)...a Crohn's patient (gd prednisone)...and in end stage renal failure (thus, dialysis), it takes a village to keep me on track.

Dialysis makes dieting tricky, because the kidneys do so much related to weight loss and gain in terms of fluids, toxins, and minerals and vitamins. On any given day, my weight can fluctuate as much as ten or twelve pounds, depending on the comings and goings of those three things.

This doesn't mean anything other than the fact that everything I know about diet and nutrition gets turned on its head a bit. But, my dialysis unit (like all, I would imagine) provides me with a dietician to help me navigate.

I have three little goals to hit in the next month that are crucial: at five pounds lost, living donors can begin their testing process to see if they are eligible to donate a kidney either to me or to a paired-donation chain that I am on. (This means that I might not get that exact kidney, but one that matches me from somebody on the chain.) At ten pounds, I can repeat all of my testing to make sure that there aren't any underlying issues going on that would prompt rejection, and at twenty pounds I can look the surgeon in the face and say GO.

(GO in my world means becoming active and moving up the UNOS list for kidney transplant. I have accrued two full years on the list, but active status puts me in an entirely different checkout lane, especially if I have a living donor come forward. I had been kinda hanging out on the inactive list when my sister fell through, and I don't think it takes a team of psychiatrists to figure out why. Somehow, I guess I got it in my head that I wasn't worthy of a kidney...but these are stories for a different day.)

I started this journey at well over 400 pounds, so the scenery along the way is very familiar to me. But my life kinda kicked me in the shins the last few years, and...to be brutally truthful...I've kinda half-assed it and used bankruptcy, Stewey's death, moving out of my house, Jersey Boy's arrival, and just about everything else I could think of get in the way.

What can I say? I eat when I am happy, sad, angry, joyful, calm, stressed, bored, tired, cranky, organized, hungry, bloated, sick, well, and when the minute hand moves on the clock. I love to read about food, think about menus, plan dishes, shop, cook, chop, broil, grill, and sautee anything remotely related to anything edible. I love Ina, Martha, Guy, Rachel, and Robert as though they were related to me, and every time I go into my tiny little kitchen I pretend I'm coming to you live from the Hamptons.

My mom was Greek and my dad was Italian, and their fathers were both in the restaurant business in some way...whether it was the Washington restaurant in Lima, Ohio (Grandpa Loukos) or Rich's sandwich shop in Phoenix, Arizona (Grandpa Rich)...I come by my love of food honestly. Aunts on both sides of the family are gourmet chefs, my mom could hold her own, and even Dad was known for his skills in the kitchen.

It runs deep.

But now, I have to face the fact that being jolly and portly and curvy and rolly polly and big enough for my own zip code might be cute and part of the SpinsterStitcher charm, but the reality of being a 300-pound hummingbird are getting in the way of me not dropping dead at the ripe old age of 53.

My plan (physician and dietician approved) is simple. Two meal replacement shakes/smoothies per day followed by a salad with three ounces of protein for dinner. Until I exhaust my supply of Oikos triple zero yogurt, almond milk, and frozen fruit, I will use that for smoothie ingredients, and then it will be Boost Glucose control (but not the high protein ones) shakes.

When this twenty comes off, I will be able to slowly get back to my normal way of eating, which is actually quite good for maintenance and nutrition, but I will literally cut everything I eat in half, and I'll go back to enjoying an occasional treat day with a cheeseburger. My food diary looks like that of a nun in training for a triathlon, so we know I'm doing all of the right things, but my system needs a bit of a ZAP to get it losing again.

Yes, I know, I know...the dreaded e-word is also part of this, but can I just point out that I have loathed exercise from the moment I emerged into the world? The heat and humidity don't help me any, but given the fact that I have both a swimming pool and air conditioned gym at my disposal, I am now officially "an exerciser".

(But I reserve the right to bitch and moan and complain about it endlessly, and long as my heiney is doing it. The moment I stop...I promise to zip. the. lip.)

So, Dearies...the gauntlet has been thrown and Yours Truly has picked it up. I will report my progress on this here blog each and every Friday after treatment. You will get the good, the bad, and the ugly, which I hope soon becomes the ecstatic, the thin, and the healthy!

And yes, in case you were wondering, this here blog post has been the most intimate, brutally honest, scary, awful thing I have ever attempted in eleven years of blogging. I can, though, think of no other way to hold myself accountable than to reveal my soft fat underbelly to you, God, and everybody else. No. More. Hiding. Behind. A. Cartoon.

(Who...by the way is at goal weight. The minute I hit 160, I'm commissioning a SpinsterStitcher catsuit, cape, and mask.)

Enough.

Enough talking and writing and joking and planning and plotting about it. Time to get to work.

Happy Thursday! Do something loving and kind and brave and come tell me all about it!

BUILDING HOUSES WITH A NEW VIEW TODAY

My iPad thingie is running low on juice, and SOMEBODY left her charger in Lima, so I'll keep it short today. 

Houses are being constructed on Cherry Tree Lane and I have a lovely view of the fountain today, so all is well. 

I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your loving and funny (Fatima....teehee!) thoughts on Tubbykins here. I will see the nutritionist again today to make sure I don't do anything stupid, and this twenty pounds will a distant memory before we known it. Nothing radical, I promise. Just me sitting up in the oversized buggy and paying better attention.

Happy Futzingday, Dearies! Do something fabulous and come tell me all about it!

DOES ANYBODY KNOW WHO THE PATRON SAINT OF WEIGHT LOSS MIGHT BE?

Twenty pounds.

Twenty stupid blessed rassafrattin bloody damn pounds.

OK, Dearies. I need you all to summon whatever supernatural powers or prayers or voodoo or witchcraft that you have at your disposal to help me lose twenty pounds.

Twenty pounds.

At this moment, my life depends on it.

I have a plan and am going to follow that plan to within an inch of its life, but a little extra help never hurt anybody, especially a 53-year old pre-menopausal rolly polly spinster with no thyroid and who needs a new kidney.

So...let the adventure begin!

BACK IN THE SADDLE...

I'm in the d-chair letting Buzzy and Beepy do their thing today, Dearies. Sorry I didn't write sooner, but by the time we made it home from Lima I was just wrung out like a chubby, weepy, over-emotional little sponge.

The weekend was a combination of the highest highs and the lowest lows. I was either crying tears of joy and nostalgia or tears of sorrow and horror. El Paso and Dayton are both cities close to my heart, and I suppose the only thing I could do is hug my peoples just that much tighter and whisper an I love you in their ears.

The people I spent the weekend with aren't my high school classmates.

They're not my friends.

They. Are. My. Family. 

I joked that I'm their crazy spinster sister, but that was more truth than not. I rejoice with their triumphs and mourn with them during their losses. I can probably tell you more about their kids and spouses and careers and vacations and graduations and lives than about my own. They are special and brilliant and wonderful and....

Family.

Saturday was the Grand Tour for my Jersey Boy. First up was St. Charles...the grade school of Yours Truly that I attended from sixth through eighth grades:

Next up was high school. Lima Central Catholic...home of the Thunderbirds:

And finally, 1522 Bunker Drive. The childhood and adolescent homestead of The Spinster Stitcher, Aunt Chrissy, and Bob and Sig Rich Their Very Selves:

I took the close-up of the front porch because my mom used to hang enormous ferns there, and I see that the current resident is continuing the tradition....something that would have made her very happy.

(The little white dog was just a magic reminder of You Know Who.)

I was a weepy, sweaty, nervous, chattery mess for three straight days, but I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat if it meant one more hug or one more kiss or one more I love you.

My heart is full

MAKES MY HEART GO FLIPPITY FLOP...IT'S A LIMA THING

GOING HOME

As soon as Buzzy and Beepy are finished doing their thing, Magoo and I are going to pile into the car and head to Lima, Ohio for my 35th high school reunion.  I am so excited to see my LCC family I can hardly stand it...

I'll see you on the other side!  Happy, happy weekend, Dearies! Do everything that blows your skirt up and come tell me all about it!

FUTZINGDAY

MONDAY MONDAY

SUNDAY SPLAT

That sound you heard was every ounce of energy I had falling out of me and hitting the pavement.

Phooey.

I had such a fantastic week, but about an hour ago my wheels fell right off and I wanted to sit down on the floor of the breakfast restaurant and bawl my eyes out. We went to Mass, ran a few errands, and stopped to eat, and I swear the fatigue and unwells hit me all at once.

Plus, it's hot as YouKnowWhat here again, so I suspect that this is just another case of the ugly humidities.

My JB is at the pool and I have decided to stay right here in the La-Z-Spinster recliner with the paper, the end of my book, a start on Mary Poppins, and the laundry sploshing for company. Lovie has already announced that he would like to have something light and easy for dinner, so I am off the cooking hook and can just rest and relax for the duration.

I hope your Sunday is lovely and swell, Dearies, and that you get to do whatever your heart desires and your body and soul require! Come tell me all about it!

IN WHICH WE HAVE AN ADVENTURE

I blame it on the Michael's.

They had beach chairs on sale for $15.

Beach chairs.

For $15.

At the Michael's!

They were normally $50 each, but the sign said 70% off and I had my calculator out so fast I broke a sweat all over my SpinsterStitcher big girl t-shirt. I put them in my cart, got the flosses I needed and an 11x11 qsnap set and hit the register.

Then guess what we did?

SATURDAY SWITCH UP

I'm still loving Plum Pudding, but decided to switch it up a bit.

Isn't this swell?! I first laid eyes on this during a StitchCon episode that featured the brag table. I just about jumped out of the d-chair when I did, and think I had it ordered before I knew what hit me. 

This was my very first pdf download, and I have to say...the instant gratification was fantastic.

Here are the details:

Mary Poppins

Designer: Laura Rimola

The Little Stitcher

Website: http://thelittlestitcher.blogspot.com

I have the perfect piece of Colour & Cotton fabric for this, but alas, am short a few of the called for DMC colors. So as soon as I get my wits about me, I'm going to head over to the Michael's and snatch them right up.

So that's my plan for the day, Dearies.  What's new in your world today? Come tell me all about it!

FRIDAY!....WITH ADDED BLISS!

I'm home from the d-chair! Great treatment today! Lower off weight than last Friday! Starbucks! A novel! Happy, happy, joy joy!

I hope you have a wonderful weekend, Dearies! I am going to enjoy my book, have a light dinner and then look forward to nothing but sun, stitching, and good eating! What's on your to-do list for the next few days?

**Dang it, Gumby, I can't figure out how to respond to comments on my own dang blog! Robin asked what I'm reading....it's a novel titled The Editor by Steven Rowley. I pick a stack of books from the New Fiction section or the Just In shelf when I go to the library, and this one caught my eye. Light summer reading and hasn't made my brain hurt so far!

***I do keep a log of books I've read on the GoodReads thing as well as in a very old journal, but I don't know how to tell you to find me...by email address maybe? In that case, it would be under conijorich@aol.com.

EPISODE 75...

I've just cleaned CS2 like an Amish woman on steroids.

(Pause for reaction.)

It all started when I got a good strong whiff of the Happy Chair and decided that something must be done once and for all. My first impulse was to drag it down the stairs and haul it to the dumpster on the top of my car, but several years of therapy kicked in and I decided to do this in steps.

I reversed the two chairs and am going to see how I like sitting in the recliner.

So far, so good, but it's only been four and a half minutes:

Starting today, I am going to sock away any extra money I find and I'm going to save up for a new Happy Chair. There are several excellent selections online with free shipping, and I think I might be able to find the perfect replacement for the old one. The recliner is lovely...it really is, but I have an aversion to sitting in a recliner at home for some reason because  I sit in one at dialysis.

(OK. I know. Another thing to add to my Dr. Melfi list!)

So the apartment is now cleaned to within an inch of its life and I am going to reward myself with an afternoon in the pool. 

Thanks for your sweet comments about the Great Pool Noodle Incident of 2019. You'll be happy to know that I do have another noodle, and that the "loaner" noodle has found a home at the pool. When I made my coffee this morning, I spied it in the bike rack just near the entrance gate along with a few other pool toys!

Hurrah!

Pool noodles for everybody!

Happy Thursday, Dearies...or as I have come to think of it Spinsterania Day. I hope your day is full of everything that makes you happy! Come tell me all about it!

THEY REALLY SHOULD MAKE PILLS FOR THIS....EPISODE 74

So I went for my splosh yesterday and decided to take along my pool noodle. I don't know how to use a pool noodle, but I take it with me every now and then in the hopes that there will be another floaty old lady there that might be able to teach me how to do so.

Yesterday, though, there was a little girl in the pool all by herself while her person sat nearby blabbing on her cell phone, so I asked her if she might like to play with the pool noodle. (My motives were suspect, since my plan was to let the kid play with the thing and I could pretend to sun myself while watching her from behind my mirrored sunglasses that make me feel like a cHips officer.)

Turns out, there really is no way to play with a pool noodle. You just kinda bob around with it.

Who knew?

When I was ready to leave, the little girl was still happily playing away, so I said "If your mom says it's OK, you can take that home with you to play with when you come again." and her little face lit up and made my day.

And then the little girl's person spoke up. "I'm not her mom and no, we don't want it."

Um...awkward.

I must have fumbled around and chattered like a circus monkey, because what I wanted to say was "Lady...I'm ready to go and the kid is still playing with the damn thing, and I'm not about to jump in there and snatch it out of her hand like some kind of pool noodle Cruella DeVille, so you can either take it home, leave it here, or shove it up your rude little heiney" but what I did say was "Um. Ok. So sorry. Um. I'll just come back and get it later. Um. Have a nice day."

And I left and then forgot to go back to the pool to get the damn pool noodle.

I woke up in a cold sweat at 2am worrying about what the damn pool noodle was doing down there all by itself and even went to the patio window to see if I could spot it floating around or causing havoc or maybe (in my half-awake state) sleeping on a lounge chair.

Nope...couldn't see a thing.

This morning, the cover was on the pool and there was no sign of it, so all I can hope is that it found a good home somewhere and that it will remember me fondly.

So that's my life at the moment, Dearies...I'm hooked up to Beepy, getting ready to stitch a bit, and having a giggle over my Merry Poppins feet:

Happy Wednesday! Come tell me all about your little corner of the world today!

BRING IT ON, TUESDAY!

Well, I'm off to an appointment, and then it's time to tackle a to do list. I have quite a few things that I've been putting off and putting off, and today is the day to get them done.

As a reward, I am going to spring for an un-scheduled Starbucks treat, some time at the pool, and a long afternoon of stitching and movie viewing.

Last night's selections were Danny Collins with Al Pacino and Ninotchka with Greta Garbo. I didn't make it all the way through the latter, but will definitely finish watching it today!

Hope your very own Tuesday is perfectly perfect in every way, Dearies! Come tell me all about it!

AAAAAAAHHHHHHH....SWEET RELIEF AT LAST!

The heat broke overnight, so I awoke refreshed and ready to go! Driving to treatment was lovely, since I was able to breathe easily and wasn't a total puddle by the time I got here.

(And! My fluid gain was very minimal over the weekend, so my effort to behave myself worked very nicely indeed!)

Plum Pudding is coming along nicely again after a few hours last night and an hour so far this morning:

I don't want to jinx myself, but I have been able to stitch with my glasses on today! Normally, I remove them and stitch with nekkid eyeballs, but today I have been able to stitch AND be a Nosy Parker and watch the pod.

Speaking of watching, Pam and Steph from Just Keep Stitchin', Danielle from Stitcherista, and Caroline from Off The Grid Needlearts are keeping my company on the Flosstube today. I keep meaning to have a little binge session in which I view each of their channels from the beginning, but then I get tempted by all of the other channels...Shirl from Tranquil Stitches, Garret from Coffee Stitcher, Lorie from Mischievous Stitches...and on and on.

I just can't say it enough. If you have a needle and thread or diamond painting pen or knitting needles or fabric fat quarters to quilt in your world...thank you! This thing of ours has literally and figuratively saved my life and I am forever in your debt for all you have done and continue to do for me.

Tonight I hope to get a good swim in before dinner and then get right back to some stitching.

How about you, Dearie? What will blow your skirt up today?

WHEW!

I really don't know anything at all about living in the grey or exercising moderation. I go from practically inert for five days to a Sunday morning filled with running to and fro.

We started with Mass at the Basilica over on campus, then the car wash, then the Costco for gas, then breakfast, the cigar store (for JB Magoo), then a quick splosh in the pool. Now I'm tumbling laundry and cleaning the kitchen, while simultaneously slurping my second big cold brew, because my eyes are so heavy I can't keep them open.

Jeepers.

Our heat wave is coming to a close as we speak, thank goodness. The week ahead is supposed to be beautiful, with lots of sunshine, cooler temperatures, and lower humidities.

Absolutely nothing else to report, Dearies. I am going to finish this icy damn good and get that needle back in my hand if it kills me!

What's new in your neck of the woods?

NEW LEAF

OK.

Last week was...eh.

So I sent it on its way last night, had a good long sleep, and am just finishing my second cup of damn good. I'm going to take a dip, have a nice cool shower, and hit the Happy Chair with iced tea and stitching for the duration.

Not much to report stitchy-wise, Dearies. My progress on Plum Pudding has been minimal. I am still loving it...just haven't been able to access the turbo button on my needle.

It is beastly out there, kids, so please be careful if you're out in it today. I am taking all precautions and also minding my fluids, so please don't fret for me.

Happy Saturday to one and all! I hope you get to do whatever your lovely hearts desire today! Come tell me all about it!

BLAH DEE DAH...BLAH DEE DAH

I can't seem to snap out of it this week, but I'm not going to worry about it too much. That would require effort, and I just can't be bothered with myself.

If you have to be out in this beastly weather, please please please be careful and take care of yourself!