Oct 12, 2010


With all due respect to Christopher Columbus, every year it's the same thing. Right about this time, I start getting all out of whack with what day of the week it is. Or what the date is. Or what time it is.

Or what planet I'm from.

Aunt Chrissy and Bosco are hanging out with Stewey and I for a few days for a little staycation. So far we've managed to go to the grocery store, laugh our fool heads off at the stupidest things, and watch almost the entire first season of The Real Housewives of Atlanta. We're still trying to figure out that last bit and why we feel compelled to get sucked in to yet another group of lovable misfits, but say la vee, we're riveted.

I'm plugging along on Moonlit Garden and really enjoying it. The linen is plush....very nice in the hand and lovely to work with. Now if I could just stop with the tarnishing of the needles, we'd be all set.

I'm off to the Happy Chair armed with a pot of coffee and some valium. I've decided to watch the extrication of the Chilean miners, and, given the fact the I am claustrophobic enough to pass out in a car without a sun roof, this is going to be very interesting. (Yup. The thought of them in that mine for this length of time, coupled with the thought of that cage contraption that will suck them out of a hole the size of a small cafe table has me in fits.

This, of course, reminds me of a story regarding a very sick father, a 3am MRI experience, and why the folks at St. Joe Hospital in Phoenix will probably never forget me and/or my antics. When Dad was sick and in the hospital, they decided that he would need an MRI, and apparently the only open time slot was 3am. I just happened to be there, so when they came in and cheerfully announced "OK, Mr. Rich, we're just going to pop you down to Radiology for an MRI", I went into an immediate panic attack that prompted a call to the pharmacy for a dart gun and some sedatives. Fortunately, Dad was sleepy and didn't get the gist of why I started to babble "This will be a piece of cake, Dad. No problems at all. All you have to do is close your eyes and think happy thoughts and the sound of the test will be like steel drums on a Caribbean beach somewhere nice and sunny and warm and there won't be any problems at all and I will be right there to hold your hand and give you support and if you have any questions or concerns I will advocate for you because that's what daughters are for and if Chrissy were here right now she would say the very same thing but she had to go home to get a little sleep so that she could go to work and...."

Long story short, when they asked me if I'd like to accompany Dad into the testing room, I misunderstood and thought they said "Would you like to accompany George Clooney to his villa in Italy and drink lovely red wine while the sun sets on your native homeland" and I found myself standing next to the machine gawping in terror and clutching my dad's foot while they did whatever it is they do. It was fine, really. Except for the part where my hair barrette would suddenly affix itself to the side of the machine and pin me there like some kind of freakshow post card on a nuclear bulletin board. This was intermittent, of course, so just about the time I regained my senses and was able to continue providing moral support....THWACK!....it did it again. And again. And again.

Needless to say, everybody survived the test, but I'm pretty sure that I heard one of the nurses say "OMG! That was so freakin hilarious I almost peed my pants", and I decided right there on the spot that that's why God made waiting rooms for people like me.

So pray for me that watching these guys come out of the center of the earth will not traumatize me too much and that Stewey and Bosco won't pee themselves over my propensity for panic.

I just hope they remember the sedatives.


  1. Oh my! You are too funny. I too hope that if it becomes too much for you today, that Stewey will be kind enough to turn the tv off for you and tuck you into your comfy bed for a nap!

  2. I just have to thank you for my morning laugh. :) As for the MRI experience well I do have to say you and my Mom are of the same mind set. LOL

    By the way, how are the miners?

    I just love the piece you are stitching. Especially since I am too. Or at least I was and will as soon as I finish my exchange stitching. :)

  3. oh, Coni, I am wiping the tears out of my eyes from laughing so hard..... you are a hoot! Too funny! Thank you for making my sides hurt this morning!

  4. This is your lucky day! I heard they won't bring the miners to the surface until dark because of the bright sun affecting their eyes. That's ok - you just keep on sitting in your Happy Chair stitching away all the hours until the rescue begins.

  5. Ok... I didn't nearly pee, but I did laugh a fair bit. I am with you about watching the miners get rescued. I start to hyperventilate just thinking about it.

  6. I myself can understand, I have been recovering from pneumonia of all things, yes it is true I have the wimpiest lungs in central Illinois, but in my fevered state decided to watch the movie Descent. I thought I was going to have a panic attack watching these spelunking gals crawl through holes the size of a shot glass. Little did I know there was waiting in the darkness some freaky looking white mucousy bat faced things waiting to eat them. Thankfully, that is about the only thing the real life miners didn't have to deal with. Needless to say I have canceled any upcoming spelunking adventures due to my cowardice, I mean illness.

  7. Okay,so I use to think Stewey kind of over played how evil you are but now I may have to rethink this......cuze you are evil evil evil for posting a WIP of an OOP chart which has caused me hours and hours (not to mention carpel tunnel pain)of searching for the Blackbird design chart you are stitching. Stewey....you have my sympathy!!!
    If I lived closer I'd come to your rescue(and snatch that chart while I was at it!!)

  8. Oh Coni... LOL And you're much braver than I. My heart goes out to those miners and I wanted to watch, but I am freaking out at the thought of being in a dark, tight contraption that is only 21 inches in diameter for over 20 minutes at a time.

    It's as tormenting as my desire to go see Ryan Reynolds and all of his hotness staring at me for 2+ hours in his new movie "Buried", but I cannot get over the fact that he is buried alive in a coffin for the entire movie. *&^(*&%%%!

    I'm with Connie on having been desperately searching for that chart for forever. If you want to sell it.. and Connie doesn't claim first dibs.. I'd love to purchase it from you!!!

  9. I do not suffer from any type of claustrophobia, for the most part; but looking at that tube and hearing all that could go wrong has me nervous as all get-out for the miners, their families and the dudes who volunteered to go down first, assess the miners and aid them in their rescue. Whew!

    I think I have done Moonlit Garden - is it BBD?

  10. duh - this moonlit garden (which is pictured in your post) is not what I was thinking of - I did something that was moonflower, I think. Maybe if I would look before I engage my thoughts (mouth)...

  11. Love your finshed Blackbird designs. I'm interested in this chart if you are willing to part with it. Thanks Jane