My mom can't come to the blog right now. She's lying outside in the middle of the lawn muttering something about moving to a dee-luxe apartment in the sky-eye-eye.
We never should have gotten out of the big girl sleigh bed this morning. It all started when I was rudely disturbed from my sweet puppy dreams by the sound of semi trucks pulling up in front of the house. Mo-ther didn't budge an inch, but I immediately jumped off of the bed, ran to the front door, barked my little fool head off, and peed on the rug for good measure.
It would appear that we are getting new neighbors today and that they have a lot of furniture and things. They also have four huge dogs.
Trust me when I tell you that I am not at all amused.
I tried to get the old lady out of the bed so that I could have proper Friday breakfast, but she just kept saying "Mommie isn't finished sleeping yet, Stewey. What don't you go watch the Today Show or something."
She knows that I only watch things that are intellectually or culturally stimulating. As a matter of fact, with all of my free time this morning, I programmed the remote control to only click on those channels that I deem appropriate for viewing by someone with my discriminating taste.
We'll see how long she lasts without her New Jersey Housewives and her incessant need to re-watch the Sex And The City II movie to see if it gets any better.
After I poured a few cups of coffee down her throat, she stuffed herself into sweatpants and an old Notre Dame t-shirt and went outside to plant the garden:Looks like we're going to have tomatoes, cucumbers, red peppers, purple peppers, banana peppers, hot peppers, Brussels sprouts, broccoli, and cauliflower. (Yes, this is the part where we all look at one another and say "There's no way all of that crap is going to grow in that little space"), but I'm going to let her figure it out as she goes along.
We'll just call it a learning experience.
Things were starting to look up for the day, but then Mo-ther came inside to discover that I had peed on almost every single thing in the house. Surprisingly, she just stood there in disbelief and then headed straight for the liquor cabinet.
I figure if she passes out, I'll call my Aunt Chrissy and then head over there for a little pizza and movie night with she and Bosco.
On the stitchy front, I know that Mommie Dearest is determined to finish Spring Quakers this weekend so that she can work on Stars on Memorial Day. It's supposed to be beautiful for two of the three days this weekend, so methinks we might even manage to do a little outside stitching for the first time this year!
I hope that y'all have a splendid time of it, wherever you may be. Please don't fret about my Mo-ther Dear. She'll be fine and back to her perky little self as soon as I draw her a hot bath and pour her a little Tylenol cocktail.
Happy Memorial Day!
With love from your pal,