HE'S MAKING A LIST

SCENE: A peaceful home in Mishawaka, Indiana. A Spinster Stitcher has just entered the living room of her little house dressed in a robe a slippers. Her hair is wet from the shower. A little dog perches on the back of a loveseat.

SS: OK, Stewey. Mommie is all done with the decorations now, so she's going to sit down and enjoy the evening.

S: Done? What do you mean you're done? (The little dog looks around with obvious displeasure.)

SS: I decorated the mantle, put the decorations on the tree, and set up the long table with the nativity and the three wise men that you like so much.

S: What about all of the other stuff?

SS: Well, honey, Mommie is very tired this year and just doesn't seem to have as much Christmas spirit as she usually does. So she's decided to scale down all of the preparations and just enjoy this time of the year without any stress.

S: You're kidding me, right? I have to say, Mommie..I am extrememly disappointed to hear this from you. I spent hours and hours up in the studio looking through all of your old Martha magazines, clipping photos, arranging recipes, searching for things online.....and now you tell me you're TIRED? What the $(%*@#&, Mommie! (He gets up from the perch and comes to stand directly in front of her as she tries to relax in the Happy Chair.)

SS: Stewey! You know I don't like that kind of language! And you also know that Santa Claus will not come to see you if you're not a good boy and be nice to Mommie.

(A long silence ensues, in which the little dog glares angrily at his mommie and wishes all kinds of terrible things to befall her. He comtemplates biting her on the ankle. Then he looks at the stichy project she has resting on her lap and considers the damage his overbite would do to the lovely thread. Finally, in a fit of rage, he throws himself off of the ottoman, stomps into the bedroom and throws himself into his little bed with a heavy sigh. The Spinster Stitcher turns on more of "The Sopranos" videos that she's been watching and picks up her stitching. Bliss ensues.)


I'm not sure what's wrong with me this year. I confess to feeling a bit...BLAH HUMBUG over the whole idea of the holidays. And, if you knew anything about me, you would quickly realize that this is so totally not like me that you would call the authorities.

I did finish half-ass decorating the house last night, but I'm finding it all very unsatisfying. I usually Clark Griswold my way into a house that looks like it could be sitting in the North Pole its Very Self. An eight foot wreath over the garage, illuminated wreaths hanging in every window, lovely trees and white lights framing the doorway, and Christmas magic everywhere you look.

This, of course, usually takes me a week and a half to assemble and then I'm the only one that looks at it for the two and a half days that constitute Christmas, and then I'm left fretting in the Happy Chair that I won't take it all down and put it away until March again this year.

So I took a stand. I decided to do a bare minimum and to heck with what the neighbors think. (Now, I'm sure if you asked my neighbors what they think of Miss Coni J. Rich Her Very Self not hanging Christmas decorations this year they would probably say "Who? And which house does she live in? Does she normally put decorations up? Never heard of her.") So what's the point, really?

Stewey will just have to deal with it. I suspect that he will throw this major pout until February, but that's just too damn bad. In the words of my beloved mother: I EEES DE BOSS AND YOU EEES DE BOSSEEEE. Stupid dog.

I finished the inner motifs on LJP's "Christmas Quilt" last night. I'm still loving this and hope to get the background installed tonight. Then it's on to one of Laura's famous borders and we can call this another Christmas finish for the year. Woo Hoo!

In the meantime, please enjoy a few pics of Chez Spinster Scrooge....I figured after all that work SOMEBODY should get to see this stuff other than me and you-know-who.