My mom can't come to the blog right now. The trauma of the last four days has been a little much for the old lady to bear, so I've sent her to bed with promises of a brighter tomorrow and a little tiny sedative (just to be on the safe side). I will call the travel agent tomorrow to book flights to Turks and Caicos (where they apparently do not celebrate this wacky holiday).
It all started innocently enough....Aunt Chrissy and Bosco arrived on Thursday morning bright and early for the annual parade-watching festivities. Apparently, my mo-ther and Aunt Chrissy actually saw the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade live and in person one year, so they have a very soft spot in their wicked little spinster hearts for this event. There was lots of coffee and bagels to be had, and when Santa Claus reached 34th Street, they headed into the kitchen to begin the BIG MEAL preparations. This gave Bosco and I an opportunity to watch the Purina Dog Show in peace. (May I just state right now and without equivocation that the Parsons/Jack Russell Terrier got TOTALLY ripped off and didn't even place in the terrier group. Stupid judges.)
From what I gather, the BIG MEAL preparations went awry this year because my mo-ther did NOT do a proper meeze in plass. She's not a bad cook, really, and I credit her for being really prepared and quite organized most of the time. This year...not so much.
The turkeys went into the roaster thingie and then Mom and Aunt Chrissy decided to high-tail it upstairs to the studio! The studio! Even I, a simple pup, knows what happens when the two of them go up there! Days are lost! Stashes are pawed! Projects are planned! Lists are written! Why, I've been know to have to fend for myself because Mo-ther was engrossed in this or that up in her "special place" and days passed before she came back out into the light of day.
(Knowing that the BIG MEAL was doomed, I decided to eat early and then hit my perch for a nap.)
I heard Mom tell Aunt Chrissy that they were going to "sit down at about three" to eat. Well, "three" came and went and by the time their heineys actually hit chairs it was after six thirty! I know this for a fact because "King of Queens" was on, and we ALWAYS watch "King of Queens" at dinner time.
From what I can tell, there was a lot of chopping and grunting and sweating and cursing flying about the kitchen, but somehow the food all turned out pretty well and Mom and Aunt Chrissy feasted until they had to loosen the strings on their sweat pants. (May I just point out that I was properly attired in a lovely silk dinner jacket and fresh cravat, and the two of them couldn't be bothered to try a little makeup for a change?!) So much much for an elegant holiday tableau.
Friday is a complete blur because mo-ther did nothing but sit in the Happy Chair looking at stitching all day. I say "looking at" because I don't think she picked up a needle once, yet we had the organizing and then re-organizing of the Christmas Stitching Basket at least a dozen times.
Yesterday we put up the Christmas tree, and I must confess that I was a real pill about the entire process. Mom decided to use a $20 tree that she bought at Target last week. A $20 tree! $20! Did I mention the fact that we have two perfectly good Christmas trees out in the garage already, and that the cost of the two of them put together is more than my entire college fund and investment plan combined?!
This tree sucks. It's skinny and bare and stupid. I hate this tree and I'm happy to report that I've peed on it no less that six times already. Mom looks like she wants to send me to the pound every time she's wiping up the piddles, but until she gets a clue and hauls the Martha Stewart Bear Claw Mountain Tree with 600 elegantly tipped branches into this house, I'm not giving up. What the hell she thinks she's pulling with this piece of crap in an urn she calls "our tree" this year is beyond me.
Today was the icing on the cake as far as The Spinster Stitcher Thanksgiving Extravaganza Weekend was concerned. My Aunt Chrissy got the bright idea to take Bosco and I over to the fancy schmancy pet boutique for baths and photographs with Santa Claus. There are so many different things wrong with this, I don't even know where to begin, but let's just say a) I hate it when strangers see me naked and then feel compelled to soap me up with shampoo that smells like cookies, and b) I know my Santa Clauses, and this one just wasn't up to snuff. He was skinny! And he had a goatee under his fake beard! And I heard the guy talking about running marathons! Santa Claus! Running marathons!
I'm sorry, I really am, but when it comes to Santa Claus, I think the rules should be followed. Santa Claus should be old. And fat. And very very jolly. This guy was none of that. He claimed to be a dog lover, but I had my suspicions. So when Mom tried to sit me on his lap I bit him. Not hard, mind you, but enough to let the guy know that I wasn't going to take any crap from him. Then, when my mom decided to step away and let my Aunt Chrissy try to put me on the guy's lap, I had an "incident" involving a nervous tummy, a whole lot of hand sanitizer, and a dry cleaning bill.
Serves him right...the jerk. Santa Claus is not a marathon runner.
Tonight we're laying low and trying to figure out where the hell four days just went.
Stitching has been very minimal, but Mom did put a few stitches into Christmas Quilt by Laura J. Perin. She's doing this one on 24ct. congress cloth:
See? I told you it was a stupid tree. I'd call it a Charlie Brown Christmas Tree, but that would be an insult to the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree. All I know is that I better get a Zhu Zhu to make up for this damn thing, or 2010 will be the year of a very unhappy Stewey.
Well, the dryer just buzzed. I've washed all of my toys and blankets today so that they will be fresh smelling and easier to sleep with. I like to take a few toys to bed with me, but Mom has been bitching about how dirty and smelly they are, so I thought I'd freshen them up a bit. Gentle cycle, a few extra drops of Tide, and I'm all set!
I hope that you all had a very lovely weekend, and that if you celebrated Thanksgiving, it was less traumatic and more festive than the one we had. Thanks for stopping by! I sure am happy that you all remain such devoted readers, even if you have to put up with me every now and then!
With love from your pal,