THE SPINSTER REGRETS SHE'S UNABLE TO LUNCH TODAY

My mom can't come to the blog right now. She's taken to the bed with a good book, a vat of dietCoke, and all of your lovely comments and cyber hugs for company. Oh behalf of all things Chez Spinster, won't you allow me to send our most heartfelt thank yous for all of your kind words?

At first my stupid mo-ther thought that her feelings of "blech" were the result of this ungodly heat and humidity. Then she suspected that it could be due to an impending stitchy slump. Finally, however, she came to her freakin senses and, after a brisk smack on the forehead, she realized why she wants to go retch into the bidet....

STUPID MO-THER: "Stewey! Mommie has just realized that she's taking the new dosage of one of her pills, and that must be the reason why she is unwell these last few days!"

ME: "Well, well, well. Aren't you just the cleverest Miss Marple? How did you come to that striking conclusion, given the fact that you've got more pills in you than a Walgreens?"

STUPID MO-THER: "Well....I pondered and pondered and pondered (as I am wont to do don't you know) and I realized that I switched to the higher dosage on Sunday morning when I filled up my pill boxes for the week."

ME: "Uh huh..."

STUPID MO-THER: "That, and the fact that your Aunt Chrissy said to me on the telephone the other night..."Are you taking all of your medications?" when I launched into my latest diatribe about something or other and she wondered if they made pills for it."

ME: "Well, that's a good thing, Mommie. Now go back to bed, and I'll alert the public that you're going to live."

STUPID MO-THER: "Night night."


So you see....all of this fuss is due to a 5mg increase in one of the many tiny little pills that the old lady forces down her gullet twice a day. You would think that a mere 5mg would go completely unnoticed, but this is MY mo-ther we're talking about.

We did spend all day up in the studio yesterday (despite the fact that it was approximately 191 degrees up there), and I'm happy to report that after seven and a half hours of futzing not one single thing was accomplished.

Happy Wednesday, folks! I do hope that you are all well and safe and cool and dry and that your needles are doing exactly what you want them to be doing!

With much love from your pal,
Stewey