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.
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.