Nov 2, 2011

A VERY BRIEF FUTZINGDAY REPORT FROM MASTER STEWEY ANGUS WILLOWSWAMP, HIS VERY LITTLE SELF

Chello, my very dearest stitchy friends,

I see from your comments that you are somewhat interested in my choice of costume for Halloween. While I'm bemused that you would be interested in such a thing, I'm rather surprised that you would think that the selection was limited to just one ensemble. Haven't you noticed the trend lately in which multiple gowns and/or getups are donned for big celebrations?

(I'm speaking, of course, about the fact that Ms. Kardashian wore no less than four different outfits during the six and half minutes that she was, in fact, married.)

The plan was that I would start the night with my favorite costume....that of a Pan Am flight attendant. I had then hoped to transition into something from the Real Housewives of Hoosierville, followed by a cute little number that I like to call "GaGa meets Midler meets a ladybug", but alas, my plans were foiled before I was able to perch the smart little pillbox on top of my head.

My stupid mo-ther went face first into the bowl of Butterfingers, and within minutes had to be rescued with a vat of diet Coke, a cool compress, and the promise that I would remain at home to attend to the doorbell. I don't know why I was surprised at this little development, especially since she seems to do this every year (and on alternate Thursdays). So rather than sporting my little costumes and parading about the neighborhood, I was left to supervise what can only be described as a case of acute candy intoxication.

I know that the old lady promised that this would (henceforth and so on) be a stitching blog, but I'm afraid that I don't have anything to show you from last night's efforts. I saw the needle poke a canvas work piece a few times, but within minutes, the snoring and drool started and it was all I could do to get her stupid teeth brushed and pajamas on and then tumble her into the big girl sleigh bed. Sheesh. I'm living with a toddler.

Stay tuned, though. My Aunt Chrissy took the bull by the horns yesterday and headed over to the Hobby Lobby to buy out their Christmas decoration aisle. From the looks of it, we might have a proper tree this year, and I couldn't be more excited about it!

Thank you for tuning in. I promise that there will be stitching to share tomorrow. Looks like the old lady just hit the Happy Chair with the remote and a few nice new projects....so stay tuned!

Until then, I remain....

Your loving pal,
Stewey

5 comments:

  1. Ms. Coni, I have been reading your blog about your life, stitchery and Mr. Stewey for awhile now and just had to write. I am a lurker on the x-stitch blogs and never respond but do enjoy them immensely. I to am a spinster stitcher with a cat no less and of a certain age. I have lived in NJ and now reside in NC. I think you really should become an author as your writing is so entertaining. Please continue with you stories. Thank you very much, Jennifer

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  2. Poor Stewey, I'm sorry you didn't get to wear all of your costumes, but just think about the tree watering you'll be able to do with a proper tree, thanks to Aunt Chrissy.

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  3. I thought the same thing all along. You definitely have the talent to write a column and your blog has plenty of material for a book. The sky's the limit - a cable show, tv series, mini-series or a movie. No pressure!!!

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  4. Poor Stewey, I'm sorry your plans were foiled.

    I had plans my own little self to dress up as my favorite guitar hero, Jimmy Page. My girls Betty and Nippit were to be my groupies.

    Pop however gave Mama a wee drink of brandy, which sent her into a fit of giggles. Pop dove into the leftover candy.

    Someone had to stay home and supervise those two. Certainly couldn't trust those damn cats.

    Yours in commiseration,
    Dammit Bunny

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  5. So sorry about your costume disappointment Stewey, but I am proud of you that you took care of your mo-ther. I am looking forward to her stitchy updates. They never cease to amaze me as they are beyond my feable efforts. Thanks! Cathryn

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