My mo-ther can't come to the blog right now. I've sent her away on a fool's errand to the PetSmart looking for potty pants. She thinks that if she brings them home I will gladly slip them on to help alleviate the urine elimination situation we're having. I'm sure she'll also buy a Potty Patch, a Belly Band, vitamins, and any other stupid thing she can think of to keep me from watering the furniture.
In the spirit of full disclosure, however, I feel that I must reveal:
1) I was fully housebroken on day TWO of my life here in Crazyville. Mo-ther and Aunt Chrissy were sitting in the living room, and when I went to the back door and indicated that I'd like to go outside to urinate, they both hollered and shrieked and danced around so much that I thought they had won the Publisher's Clearing House.
2) I remained fully housebroken until a) the "special surgery" that Mo-ther insisted would be better for my overall health and would help curtail the shorty Jack Russell terrier population, and b) the arrival of my pesky little cousin Bosco.
3) I pee not so much out of need to do so, but rather as an indictment of the filth that I'm forced to live in with a deranged spinster. I feel that the house should be cleaned at least four times a week and that Mo-ther should channel her inner Amish woman and wash walls, etc., but she seems to think that a bi-annual pass with the Swiffer qualifies as appropriate homekeeping. It does not.
4) The Christmas tree ornaments were not wired onto said Christmas tree due to MY failure to leave the tree alone, but rather, they were wired onto said Christmas tree because my mo-ther insists on sitting on the floor each evening after dinner to "play", and she cannot throw anything with any degree of accuracy whatsoever. During the holiday season she typically knocks at least four or five dozen ornaments from the tree's branches when she misses the dining room completely and launches the tennis ball deep into the recesses of said tree. This, of course, is followed by more curse words that I am allowed to hear.
So before you decide to type "Oh, you poor Spinster Stitcher. How terrible that you have to live with a snarky little dog that pees, I ask you....
Would YOU like to come over here and massage her back fat?
Would YOU like to watch Jeffrey Dean Morgan movies on an endless loop until you think your eyes will bleed?
Would YOU like to listen to her blather on endlessly to my Aunt Chrissy about whatever the obsession du jour happens to be?
Would YOU like to explain to the neighbors that the sounds they hear escaping up the chimney on a cold winter's night are due to my stupid mo-ther's lack of planning and that she has probably realized that she will be short one strand of thread to finish her latest project and that the Michael's and the Hobby Lobby and the JoAnn's are all closed and won't be open for another twelve hours and why oh why can't she just get organized and plan her projects out better so that she's not having to sneak into Aunt Chrissy's studio in the dead of the night like some 300-pound stitching ninja that really should be locked up but who remains free because nobody will have her anyway?
So please, my very dear friends. Don't encourage her further with any kind words, kudos, or praise. That will only result in her prancing around the house chanting "They LIKE me! They really really LIKE me!", and nobody needs to see that more than once in their lifetime. Trust me.
I hope that you remain warm and safe and dry this weekend and that you do whatever it is that your stitchy heart desires. As for me, I will be supervising this, Miss Paulette's Dust of Snow:And THIS beauty:
This is the latest Laura J. Perin that Mo-ther has been chomping at the bit to start, called Stained Glass Windows. I suspect that she will hit the studio the moment she returns from the PetSmart to paw through threads and canvas. Stay tuned for updates. I bet this one gets started before you can say "obsessive compulsive".
So that's it for now, my dear friends. As soon as I water the drapes I'm off to my patch of sunlight for a little snooze. We're supposed to get a winter's storm today, so I guess I better get snuggled in and ready for the flakes to start falling!
With love from your pal,