The almost true exploits of an intrepid spinster and her stitching...and all of the things that make up her crazy, happy, quiet little life.
Jun 30, 2010
WELL, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT?
This is from the WIP pile...it's Laura J. Perin's Lily of the Valley Collage. I think I might push on through with this one until it's completed. (How many times have you heard me say THAT before?) It's just lovely, and I even have the silk flower to apply to the middle portion of the canvas. (If you recall, I got a wild hair and decided that I would fixatate silk flowers onto the middle of these flower collages, so we're now two for two.) (The first one was the daisy. Remember?)
Storms have ceased momentarily here in Hoosierville, and this week is quite lovely to behold, but I hear we're in for some more stickymess by the weekend. Swell. Just in time for me to slap on the big girl bike shorts and fire up the barbeque grill for the Official Stitchin' Spinster Sisters Stars and Stripes Celebration. Oh well, maybe Aunt Chrissy and I will suffer through some microwaved wienies instead.
Back to the Happy Chair! Woo Hoo!
Jun 28, 2010
FUTZ FUTZ FUTZ FUTZ FUTZ
Methinks it's time for it to go back into the basket and for me to futz about looking for a new piece to play with. Maybe I'll look in one of my notebooks and pull out an old WIP? Maybe I'll start a new cross stitch piece? Maybe I'll finally start to stitch all of the LHN Christmas ornaments that keep coming in the mail and piling up in a big pile that makes me sad that I can't seem to finish anything and I just know that when Christmas rolls around I'm going to spend at least a week and a half bitching that I didn't stitch any Christmas ornaments but then again when have I ever stitched Christmas ornaments anyway and why do I insist on putting so much pressure on myself when it comes to stitching but I can't seem to be bothered to stress out at all over the garbage that I shove in my big fat face.....
(pant pant pant pant)
That's the way my brain is working today. Once again I am the 300-pound hummingbird flitting from place to place without one single idea about how to get something done.
Oh well. Makes for pretty interesting stream of consciousness, if I do say so myself.
Thank God Stewey can't hear it, though, or I'd be on my way to the assisted living facility so fast it would make my head spin. Woo Hoo!
Jun 25, 2010
THE SPINSTER IS IN
Anywhoose, I suppose that it's a good thing that we were so oblivious to all of the weather here in Hoosierville, since it looks like they had some very severe storms that came through and left messes all over the darn place. I was blissfully unaware, but when I read Nanny's report, she said that both Bosco and Stewey fared well during the crisis and are none the worse for wear.
So life goes back to as normal as it can be in a house with a crazy spinster and her little dog, and all we have to worry about now is what to have for dinner. (I'm leaning toward a grilled chicken salad, but we'll see how long that particular craving lasts. Lately, Aunt Chrissy and I have been wearing a path to the door of the local sushi joint, and I've managed to find everything on the menu that I can eat.) (The spinster doesn't do raw, don't you know.)
Stewey was thrilled to see his Mommie Dearest once again, and was very proud that he got a good report on his behavior and general demeanor during my absence. We did have some "tinkle" issues while I was gone, but thanks to a few well-placed puppy pads, nothing suffered any permanent damage. I have been instructed, though, to finally have THE TALK with the lovely Dr. Nieman about Stewey's propensity to mark everything within a six mile radius of where I'm standing, so we'll see how that goes. Aunt Chrissy was very gentle about it, I must say, but I got the message loud and clear....no more help washing baseboards and drapes. Time for me to re-establish myself as the alpha once and for all. (Hey, what the heck else were we going to talk about for twelve hours in a car together?)
Since I'm pretty sure that you didn't come here to hear me blather on about road trips and my incontinent dog, I'll share my happy happy joy joy over finishing Strawberry Shortcake:
Speaking of....yes, I was glued to the TeeVee during the last and final and tragic conclusion of The Tudors. And yes, I had a headache from bawling my eyes out for about three days. Now I just need to wait for the whole thing to be released onto the disc thingies so that I can re-watch every single episode over and over and over again until some other show worms its way into my little brain and captures my obsessive compulsive need to do something until death.
I didn't do any stitching at all while away, but I am determined to plant myself in the Happy Chair for a few hours tonight. I am either going to start the Shepherd's Bush Come Tarry, or Laura J. Perin's Magnolia Collage, or this:Doesn't this make you want to throw your skirt up and shout "WOO HOO!"? This is a painted canvas by Melissa Shirley, with fibers, beads, and stitch guide selected by the very fabulous Ruth Schmuff of Beadecked and Bedazzled fame. I purchased it during a recent truck show at the shop, and am really looking forward to jumping right into this one.
The garden continues to thrive. I would show you the vegetables, but I think there was a bug out there earlier, so I decided not to tempt fate with the camera, and just shot a few pics of Stewey's daisy and the lettuces instead:
Jun 20, 2010
SEE YOU NEXT WEEK
(And no, Stewey is not allowed to use the computer while in the care of Nanny, so you'll have to tattle in the event that he escapes her supervision.)
Ciao, bellas.
Coni
Jun 17, 2010
THE BETTER TO SEE YOU WITH, MY DEAR
I've also discovered that my stupid mo-ther and my Aunt Chrissy are crazy nuts for some restaurant here in Hoosierville that serves raw fish. Blech. What in the hell anybody would want with raw fish is beyond me, but these two have visited that place three times this week. (And it's only Thursday!) Mom doesn't even LIKE raw fish, but off she goes with Aunt Chrissy with the idea in her head that she is going to look really really cool eating with chopsticks. (She doesn't, but that somehow doesn't deter her very much.) (Please see: "DOOFUS" above.)
As for me, I am headed to my perch to watch a few movies. I've taped Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and I intend to watch it with the same rapt attention that my mo-ther gives it every single time it's on the TeeVee. I'm pretty sure that it is actually a children's movie, but she seems to really like it. No judgement, but I would imagine that she likes it because it's just about enough for her pea sized intellect to handle in one sitting. After that, I think I'm going to catch Vickie Christina Barcelona again, since the first time I watched, it was constantly interrupted by Mo-ther making kissy noises at the screen and then rewinding it over and over and over again. Woody Allen would be furious, and I intend to screen it the way he intended....in my little silk smoking jacket with some small plate appetizers and a nice sherry for company.
When Mom stops acting like such a freakin' goofball, I'll make sure that she plants herself in the Happy Chair and stitches. She's very very close to finally finishing Strawberry Shortcake, so I think I will push her along until this one is finally headed for the finisher. I asked her if we might make it into a pillow for the bed, but she said that she was thinking purse. Stay tuned.
Here's a few pics of the fancypants glasses. If you'd like to get an idea of what they look like on Mom's actual face, just imagine a very sweaty bowling ball and you're all set. (Just don't forget the pony tail hair-do.)
Good Lord, do you think that woman could look in a mirror once in a while? If her 1984-ish bangs get any higher, I'm going to have to break out the jelly bracelets and denim mini, and NOBODY needs to see that. When I said "Mo-ther, your look is SO 1980's, she just glared at me and said "Stewey, dearest, your Mommie was actually good-looking in 1980, so leave it alone, will ya'?"
I saw the pictures, and there was absolutely nothing good-looking about them. (You must trust me about this.)
Cheerio and all that.
With love from your pal,
Stewey
Look how freakin' close she is to finishing this! Wouldn't you just sit right down and get it done already? Do you think my mom could have that kind of discipline? Noooooooo.
These are the sunglasses that Aunt Chrissy thought looked best. I can only imagine what the other ones looked like!
PURPLE! Who the heck needs PURPLE eyeglasses?!
These you've seen, but I thought I would include them here for accuracy. I ask you...who the heck needs TWO PAIRS of fancypants glasses when the only people that are going to see them are me and the poor unsuspecting neighbors that happen to be outside when Mo-ther decides to go out in her seventeen year old night clothes to get the paper in the morning? Who?
Jun 15, 2010
IT'S ALIVE!! IT'S ALIVE!!
Last evening, Stewey bolted out the back door and headed to our neighbor's back patio Mach5 and with his little hairs on fire. This isn't a very big deal, really, but my lovely neighbors were sitting on said patio enjoying the evening breeze and I was NOT dressed for public consumption. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure that my outfit violated almost every single decency statute on the books here in Mishawaka Hoosierville, so I await the impending court date with breath that is bated. (My neighbors should receive the muffins and flowers any time now and will almost certainly appreciate my selection of the "I'm so sorry you had to see my big fat nekkid heiney hanging out of my eighty year old sweatpants that no longer have a seat and the matching stained and mutilated tee-shirt that presented my bra-less boobs quite nicely, if I do say so myself" basket.) I have GOT to get some new loungewear.
So anywhoose...as I was standing there in the yard trying not to turn my back to them (which made for a pretty funny looking exit), they told me that they had awakened to a rather gruesome scene on their front porch that morning. And, upon further investigation, they figured that a neighborhood dog or cat had gotten hold of several chipmunks and summarily dismembered them. Apparently, since these people are real live grown ups and are NOT freaked out by every little moment of wild nature sightings, they knew by looking at all of the guts and fur and stuff that the dead critters were, in fact, chipmunks and NOT our beloved baby bunny.
Then this morning when I awoke, I spotted the real live actual baby bunny frolicking out on the front yard with his Mommie in tow and I felt much better about the world in general. So I did what any rational person would do. I marched into the bedroom, snatched the sleeping mask from his little head and hollered "STEWEY! MOMMIE DIDN'T COMMIT BUNNY-CIDE AFTER ALL! IT IS ALIVE! IT IS ALIVE!"
Given his general tizzy fit yesterday and the resulting washing of the drapes, you would think that he would have immediately jumped up, given me a big fat kiss, and then made a lovely little iced cap to start the day.
Nope. He glared at me out of one eye, tooted loudly, and rolled over and stuck his head back under the covers.
Damn dog.
I'm on the very last block of Strawberry Shortcake and hope to have a Happy Dance pic for you soon. I am thinking about adding a border to this because I'm loving looking at it so much, but as I was brushing teeth this morning (Stewey's...not mine), I got the sudden urge to start Shepherd's Buch Come Tarry. Oh what is a spinster to do?
Stay tuned...
Jun 14, 2010
THE CIRCLE OF FREAKIN' LIFE
Phooey on that.
As I opened all of the blinds this morning and made my way towards the front door to turn off the porch light, I noticed that Stewey was rather transfixed by something on the welcome mat. He seemed to be disgusted and sad all at the same time, so as I bent over to soothe his little head and see what he was so concerned about I saw what can only be described as a very very bad way to start a day.
Yup.
Baby bunny.
Dead.
I won't go into all of the specifics, but I presume that a neighborhood cat got to him. All I know is that as I recoiled in horror, Stewey turned and looked up at me with those big brown eyes and said "You're a moron, mo-ther. That little baby bunny didn't stand a freakin' chance, and rather than take it to a proper bunny facility, you let it go back out into the wild where some huge, monstrous creature chased it and then left it for dead right here at the very spot at which it sought shelter. Bad Mommie. Bad, bad Mommie."
He then stomped off to his fort, where he remains to this moment. I would imagine that he is secretly plotting my demise and that I should probably learn to sleep with one eye open.
In any event, after a call to Aunt Chrissy (who was of NO help whatsoever, may I just point out*), I called the landscaping company and asked if they had any crew guys over here today perchance, and could they please come help a spinster in distress.
Ten minutes later, a guy with a shovel showed up and that was the end of that.
I have been plugging away on Strawberry Shortcake and hope that I might actually finish it very soon. I would have accomplished more, but I had to give Henry my full attention last night since he's nearing that final stretch. (Oh, sorry. I forget that not everybody on the planet is riveted to every word I've ever written on this here blog....Henry is Henry VIII in "The Tudors", which is a show on Showtime that I have been watching /obsessing over ever since Aunt Chrissy and I finished "The West Wing" and were bored and looking for something else to watch/obsess over. Next Sunday is the very last episode of the whole entire series, so I am naturally a little sad to see that my whole watching/obsessing over routine will come to and end very shortly.)
How's THAT for a run-on sentence!
So here's a pic of the stitching:
Wherever you are is where I hope you want to be today...
*Now I know that you're probably thinking "Why the heck did she call her sister about road-kill on her front patio at o'dark hundred on a Monday morning? What exactly did she expect poor Aunt Chrissy to do?" And yes, I suppose that if I were a somewhat rational and/or considerate human being I would agree with you, but the fact of the matter is, sometimes you just need to be able to call a fellow spinster and start off a conversation with "I've got a problem" just so that you can see what said fellow spinster will come up with as a solution. Although sad and sympathetic, Aunt Chrissy's advise involved getting the big broom and just "taking care of it". And yes, I'm pretty sure that she's STILL mumbling to herself over what a complete jackass I am that I am still incapable of living life without an instruction manual.
Jun 10, 2010
I SMELL POP TARTS
(I felt that we should have just given the little squirt a bus ticket and a pack of smokes, but my dumb-ass mom felt that it was her spiritual responsibility to find a female rabbit in the neighborhood that would agree to raise the thing in the manner to which all little creatures around here have become accustomed.) Ahem.
One more block is complete on Strawberry Shortcake, and methinks that old lady will finish this by the end of the weekend. That will make for a whopping 10 finishes so far this year. (At this pace, I think she's on track for breaking the all time lowest number of finishes in any one given year thus-ly done by a spinster, so I'm chilling the bubbly as we speak.)
Nothing else new to report. I'm keeping myself busy with sun-sleeping and drape-peeing. Mom has taken to wrapping all of the furniture in puppy pads (which I find very unseemly, by the way), but she's also threatened to take the cleaning fees out of my allowance, so I'm learning to live with them.
I do hope that you are enjoying your summertime and are considerably more productive than Mommie Dearest over here. Enjoy something cool and sparkly today and know that I forever remain....
Your loving pal,
Stewey
"I smell PopTarts! Is somebody eating a PopTart? Is it a cinnamon PopTart? Are you ever going to look down here and see that I need to have a Pop Tart? Give it to me! Please! I need to have a Pop Tart! Now, Mommie, now!
Jun 9, 2010
IT'S A BIRD! IT'S A PLANE! IT'S A SPINSTER FLYING BY ON HER BROOMSTICK!
Damn, drat, and phooey.
I reflect upon my childhood...those innocent days of youth spent on the back porch swings reading books and smelling the fresh cut grass. Every summer was an adventure in how many books I could read, or movies I could see, or bike rides I could take, or sunburns I could suffer through. (I mean...come on...is there ANY better feeling than slipping into cool and freshly laundered sheets after an entire day in the swimming pool? That feeling of complete and total ahhhhh. Your hair was freshly washed and you had your new summertime pajamas on and Mom and Dad were downstairs watching the 11:00 news. ) Bliss. Just pure bliss.
Now, I'm lucky if the bottom sheet will stay on the damn bed (elastic issues, don't you know), I haven't had new summertime pajamas in at least seventeen and a half years, and instead of listening to Mom and Dad watching the news, I listen to a nine-pound bundle of love dressed up as a Jack Russell terrier bitch and complain about the state of affairs here in Chez Spinster until I finally get up and go sleep in the guest room. (Damn dog.)
So, as you can see, I am extremely frustrated by my utter lack of productivity in the reading/summertime enjoying/stitching/cooking/loving life category right about now. My days are rushing past me in a blur of dog hair and laundry piles, and all I want to do is stop and smell the lemonade. Or bar-be-que chicken. Or Hawaiian Tropic suntan oil. I want to assemble a pile of novels, a basket full of stitching projects, and a fridge full of potato salad. I want to wake up when the birds start chirping and go to bed when the last street light comes on. I want to listen to a baseball game on a radio and drive to a beach and wear flip flops and look at people in bathing suits and remember when I wore less than full body armour in public. I want to have a summer fling. A summer haircut. A summer pedicure. Anything to get me away from the feeling that before I know it the leaves will be changing color and I'll be scurrying around obsessing about Christmas decorations.
Anybody out there have a sure-fire method for stopping the clock for a few days? If so, let me know as soon as you possibly can, and we'll save what's left of the summer.
I'm two and a half blocks away from completing Strawberry Shortcake. I did manage to get a few hours in last night while watching some re-runs of crap I'd recorded on the DVR thingie. I am still totally loving this and am starting to think about possible finishes for it. A funky pillow? A gorgeous frame with a triple beveled mat? A purse? I'm not sure just yet, but whatever it is will be enjoyed for a long time to come, I'm sure.
I briefly ran through some blogs the other day and lo and behold, my VBSDF Laura J. Perin has done it to me again. Have you seen her latest....Daisy Chain? Damn, but that is the coolest! Aunt Chrissy and I are already plotting as to how we will stitch and finish this one. Take a look: http://www.two-handedstitcher.blogspot.com. And while you're there....peek into her lovely new home and see all of her stitchy stations. Now if only I new her exact address so that I could move in....
Stewey calls. He's been marching about the house today pointing out all of the places where he's peed in the last few days. Apparently, it's his new way of determining whether or not I'm keeping up with my chores. He figures that I'll see the microscopic drops of dog pee on the dog pee colored hardwood floors and that I'll attend to them immediately. (Note to self: Decision to stain the floors "Natural Red Oak" when building the house seemed fine at the time, but color is now too reminiscent of said dog pee and must be changed. "Natural Walnut" perhaps?) So...it looks like it's time for a bucket of hot soapy water and Mommie Dearest on Pee Patrol.
Whatever you're doing today, I certainly hope it's more fun!
Jun 3, 2010
HOW WAS THE BROCCOLI SALAD, MISTER BUNNY RABBIT, OR WHY MY DAMN DOG WILL NEVER EARN A MERIT BADGE FOR HIS HUNTING ABILITIES
So there I was...coffee cup in hand, checking out the back 40. Stewey was finding the exact blade of grass on which to have his morning constitutional, when I became transfixed by the vegetable garden.
"Something's not right here", I mused as I slurped my caffeinated goodness. "I could swear there were more things in this damn garden. Didn't Aunt Chrissy plant anything other than tomatoes, cucumbers, and peppers?"
It was about that time that I turned to my left and noticed a lovely little brown bunny rabbit pushing a tiny little shopping cart full of broccoli.
Yup. Stewey gets NO claim to fame as a steadfast hunter around these parts. As a matter of fact, it wouldn't surprise me if he didn't circulate a flier through the neighborhood bunny hutches announcing that broccoli was on sale this week. (*)
Damn dog.
No stitching last night. Aunt Chrissy and I went to the fancypants eyeglass boutique to pick out a new pair of specs for yours truly. My current fancypants eyeglasses have been a little problematic, so the fabulous chicklets that own the place told me to come in to find something brand spanky and new. So in about two weeks I'll be sporting some chic' purple glasses that will probably make people wonder exactly when the midlife crisis came upon me.
After a little stop at the Outback for some sustenance, we took a lovely drive up to Diamond Lake to see the latest project that Aunt Chrissy has been working on. Without gushing too terribly much, I can tell you that I am completely awe struck that my dopey little sister has the smarts and experience to manage the construction of something that will eventually appear in Architectural Digest. Stunning. Just freaking stunning, Aunt Chrissy. You should be very very proud. God knows I am.
So we're off again like the proverbial herd of turtles. Once I'm properly dressed, I'll mosey on over to Lowes for some pepper sprinkles for the garden perimeter. That should close the buffet for now.
At least until Stewey decides to put peppers on the menu.
And again I say, damn dog.
(*) This is where I tell you that we do not hunt in this house. First of all, the idea of killing a tiny little living creature (except bugs and spiders, of course) makes me a little wobbly around the edges, and second of all, the only things my dog knows how to hunt are bargains at the local Macy's. So please don't fret that Chez Spinster has turned into a bloodfest or anything. We're still holding hands and singing KumBaYa while the bluebirds twitter about and the wildlife frolics in the sunshine.
Jun 2, 2010
THE SUMMERTIME BASKET OF SPINSTER STITCHY LOVE
Herewith I present the SUMMERTIME BASKET OF SPINSTER STITCHY LOVE:
This is the wool applique project that I found on Sue Spargo's website. I've never done anything like this before, so it should be pretty interesting.
Is there anything better than a big 'ol Shepherd's Bush sampler to get things moving in the right direction?
I don't think I've done a Drawn Thread piece in ages. This should be good.
With so little left to go on this one, I figured it was time to get it out of the abandoned bone yard of unfinished projects and into the big FUPPY box, where it can languish with all of the other crap I've yet to frame, sew, send off, etc.
I forgot that I actually obsessed over all things crewel not so long ago. Maybe I can stick this one in my purse as a take-along project?
Still loving strawberries. I'm determined to get this one done before the crops of them start to hit the farmer's market.
OK, I know. I am woefully behind with this one and feel as though I missed graduation and will now have to go to summer school. Never fear, though...it's in the basket and ready to go again!
So that's it for now. Only a few things to get me started and hopefully back into the Happy Chair when it's positively beastly outside. I purposely kept the list small this time so that I won't feel like I'm trying to eat the entire elephant at once. We'll see how it goes......
Jun 1, 2010
DEEP THOUGHTS FOR A TUESDAY
Is it wrong to want hot dogs with ketchup, mustard, and relish for breakfast at 7:30 in the morning?
If I remove the fabric from my dining room chairs by myself and try to wash it in the washing machine, will I be able to hide the staples when I re-attach it?
How aggravated will Aunt Chrissy be when I tell her we have to go shopping for dining room chairs this weekend because somebody decided to Bob Villa her way through the house today?
What would really happen if I didn't wear a bra to the bank?
How does one delicately mop up sweat that's running down her face as she tries to look impossibly chic when talking to a handsome police officer?
Should I go back to bed?
How hot will it be if I go up into the studio to put together a SummerTime Basket of Stitchy Fun?
Will the SummerTime Basket of Stitch Fun pull me out of my SpringTide Stitchy Slump of Epic Proportions?
Would Stewey eventually explode if I put a clothespin on his peenie? (Don't even think about calling the ASPCA....you KNOW I'm kidding and only looking for a cheap laugh here. I would gladly throw myself in front of a bus for that damn dog and would never ever never ever never do anything to hurt him or his fragile sensibilities.)
(I would, however, manage to put a very nice dent in the bus).
Wherever you are is exactly where I hope you want to be today. Think a few deep thoughts with me, won't you, and let me know what they are in your comments!