A NOTE FROM MASTER STEWEY ANGUS WILLOWSWAMP, HIS VERY EVIL LITTLE SELF

My mom can't come to the blog right now. She's in bed sleeping off a Stitchy Hangover of epic proportions.

It all started last night when I was on my perch trying to watch the "Sex and the City" movie. As you all know by now, I am particularly smitten with the wedding dress montage', and I like to watch every bit of it with rapt attention.

Well, the old lady had other plans apparently, because right in the middle of said montage', she jumped up and started Happy Dancing all over the living room. This would not have been a big deal had it not been for her poor choice of night-time attire. (There comes a point in every woman's life when the word B-R-A must become second nature, n'est pai?) In any event, as I tried to duck and cover from all of the fleshy bits bouncing about, I got good and mad that, once again, my mo-ther had to interrupt my movie watching.

She was still singing "I...am the Champ-ion...my friends" when I innocently pointed out that she had not, in fact, achieved the necessary state of finish-ness to qualify her for a Happy Dance.

"Mo-ther. You didn't finish this."

"What are you talking about, Stewey? Look! Mommie put the last stitch in on the border moments ago! Isn't is the prettiest perfection you've ever seen?"

"I'd prefer not to comment on your actual stitching technique because it always results in TIME OUT, but if you look at the chart you will see that there is indeed another portion that requires stitching before this can call itself completed."

"Oh, yeah. That. Well I decided that I don't need to stitch that part. Look! Isn't it wonderful that I figured out that WeeksDyeWorks Cognac is a perfect match to CC's Brandied Pears?"

"I'm not sure why you wouldn't stitch that, mo-ther. It is clearly meant to be part of the overall project, as is evidenced by the needle case that most definitely requires something stitched for the front of it."

"But...I..ummm."

She just stood there in slack-jawed denial, but as I silently pointed my little paw at the Impe, Hattie, and Bea set that she just HAD to have, she slumped dejectedly into the chair and picked up the needle.

I made her stop at 3:30am before tucking her into bed with a little pat on her shoulder for comfort. She was muttering something about Pet Refuge and the Humane Society, but methinks it was the fatigue talking.

She's still sleeping now, but I'll wake her in a few hours and put the q-snaps next to her coffee so that she can get going. I would expect that with so little to stitch, we might even have another Happy Dance before luncheon.

Let's just hope she wears a bra.