AND THEN YOU JUST....SMOOSH

Thank you for all of your lovely comments.  Sometimes I question my thoughts and feelings about things, and on more than one occasion I've had to ask Aunt Chrissy "Is it just ME, or...???!!!".

(I stand by my dislike of those damn outfits, though, since I am convinced that there are enough "iconic" American looks out there that we could find something other than the crap that our team is wearing year after year.) 

(And yes, in case you're wondering, I will be the last person to kvetch about it if our team shows up wearing Daisy Dukes and tube tops just to spite me.)

(One last thing....is it TOO much to ask that our outfits actually incorporate our national colors?  Why is it necessary for us to be trotting around in hot pink, periwinkle, and grey?)  Come ON people.  Show some respect.  This is the Olympics.

As you might know from Stewey's post, I had been fretting over the brightness of the colors in my Watercolours "Firecracker" skeins.  I'm really loving the depth of the reds and blues in the piece so far, and the skeins I have are just too hot for my liking.  I futzed and futzed with different threads until I had a forehead-smacking epiphany and came up with:

Crazy, no?

In the event that you'd like to try this technique at home, all you need to do is suspend proficiency in everything you've been taught about proper color theory and stitching technique, grab whatever colors you want to use, and then smoosh them all together.   I took one ply of red, one of white, and one of blue (all DMC floss), and then stuck 'em in the needle and went to town.  Easy peasey.

Yes, I'm fully aware that somewhere out there a stitchy-expert has fainted dead away and that there are probably a million and a half things wrong with doing this, but I like it and that's all that matters, right?

(There, dear Betty.  I've saved you the trouble of having to email me to tell me what a boob I am and how I'm corrupting the stitching world with all of my bad grammar and terrible ideas, and how I should just go back to the rock I crawled out from under and blah blah blah.  Stick it in your hat, Betty.  I smooshed with impunity and I'm going to smoosh some more!)

Today was supposed to be the day that I strapped on my cleaning mojo and finally got this house in order.  Naaaaaah.  That's what tomorrows are for.  I think that a few hours of stitching (and smooshing) would be better for this particular spinster, so looks like I'm off to the Happy Chair!  Woo Hoo!

DO THEY GIVE GOLD MEDALS FOR SLOTH?

My mom can't come to the blog right now.  She awoke at the crack of noon, slurped up a vat of coffee, wolfed down a bagel with chive and onion cream cheese, changed the background on her blog, and then decided that she needed a nap.

Yes.  It's evident.  I'm living with Shrek.

Thank you for your concern about my health as it relates to my recent gum-chewing incident.  The old lady exaggerates, of course, and I can verify that I only had the gum in my mouth for a few brief moments before she lost her head and pried my jaws open to retrieve it.  Just between us chickens, though, you should know that I frequently look for any means available for a bit of breath freshening, and I will continue to do so until Mo-ther employs a full time dental specialist to assist me with cleaning my teeth.  I am, if nothing else, fastidious when it comes to hygiene.

Aunt Chrissy and Bosco came over on Friday night to watch the opening ceremonies of the Olympics, and we enjoyed a lovely repast of sloppy joes before settling in to our respective Happy Chairs.  Mo-ther bawled her way through the pageantry of it all (as usual), and then had her normal outraged response to the U.S. outfits.  "Why the **** does Ralph Lauren INSIST on dressing our athletes up like ****ing Delta Airlines flight attendants?!", she bellowed. "For the love of Mike!  Cant' he come up with a nice ****ing pedal pusher and some cowboy hats?!!! Berets!!  Jaunty scarves!!!!  What the **** is up with this??!!!"

By now, we're all used to this, so we just let her go until she either a) tires herself out, or b) heads back into the kitchen to eat something.

As for me, I particularly enjoyed the segment featuring themes from British children's literature.  What can I say?  I'm a complete sucker when it comes to Mary Poppins.

The Olympic stitching has begun, and I'm happy to report that a good section of AmyBear's Seasons was completed.  We've hit a bit of a snag with the multi-colored Watercolours, though, in that the blue is just too bright.  I'm fairly certain that there are suitable alternatives up in the studio, so as soon as I hear snoring come from the big girl sleigh bed, I'll sneak up there to see what I can come up with.  (Before you judge....please understand that I just can't take another four or five days of hand-wringing and hair-pulling as the old lady tries to re-invent the wheel by controlling the existing thread.  It's just a lot easier if I take matters into my own paws and switch the thread out already.)

Since it looks like absolutely nothing is going to be accomplished around here today, I might take advantage of the quiet and finish another library book or two.  We're really quite blessed in our area to have some fabulous libraries, so Mo-ther and I have been trying to take advantage of them a little more.  I'm about half-way through Wolf Hall at the moment, and although it's not my normal fare I am enjoying it immensely.

I do hope that wherever you are is exactly where you want to be on this fine Monday afternoon.  Please take care and know that I remain your loyal and devoted friend.

With love from your pal,
Stewey

GUM!!! THE DAMN DOG WAS CHEWING GUM!!!

 As I settled into the Happy Chair for a little stitching last night I caught something out of the corner of my eye that prompted a frantic call to Aunt Chrissy.

"OH MY GOD!!! THE DOG IS CHEWING GUM!  CHEWING!! GUM!  CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?  MY! DOG! IS! CHEWING! GUM!

You would think that this would have prompted said aunt to jump into her fancy pants sports car and rush right over, but instead all I heard was a heavy sigh, followed by what I assume was the last remnants of a large glass of wine being administered.

"HE'S CHEWING GUM, AUNT CHRISSY!  GUM!  HOW THE (BLEEPITY BLEEP BLEEP) DID MY DOG GET CHEWING GUM!"

With this, Aunt Chrissy asked me to put Stewey on the phone, and after several minutes of discussion, he trotted over and spit the gum out (in rather delicate fashion, I might add) into a tissue.

I swear, the two of them are gas-lighting me.

 "See my tiny little bunny teeth?  They're minty fresh!"

Here's a little progress on Orchid Maze.  I would have accomplished more, but there was the gum incident, as well as several hours of Kevin Costner movie watching to be done.

That's the report for today.  I hope that your little corner of the world is considerably less dramatic.  Woo Hoo!

MONDAY, MONDAY

It's still steamy here in Hoosierville, so methinks I'll hit the Happy Chair with a vat of dietCoke and some movies for company.  I normally refrain from turning on the TeeVee until later in the day, but for some reason I felt compelled to glue myself to CNN all morning.  Since absolutely nothing good will come of that, I'm thinking that a little Nora Ephron action might be a better course of action.

Stewey is busy conducting a full inspection of Chez Spinster and all of its messes so that he can write a comprehensive TO-DO list for me.  I'm normally presented with such a list during our mandatory Family Meeting on Sunday evenings, but he was about two chapters away from finishing his library book last night, so decided to let me off the hook temporarily.  I was hoping that he would just forget about it completely, but he awoke in a rather foul mood and has been tsk tsking over my lack of proper homekeeping skills all morning.

Hope your Monday is off to a good start!

A LITTLE MORE PROGRESS

Aunt Chrissy and I are bagging the grocery store tonight (tee hee....bagging the grocery store!) so that I can sit in the Happy Chair watching movies and working on this lovely lovely piece.  I cued up the Sex and The City movies, but Stewey informs me that if I watch II again "just to see if it gets any better", he's going to finally make good on his promise to run away from home.

Guess it's Downton Abbey instead.

HOT FUN IN THE SUMMERTIME

Doesn't this just SCREAM summer?  I'm not sure if it's the hot pink, or hot orange, or hot green, or what, but as soon as I saw this one I knew I had to jump in.  I ordered my kit from The Scarlet Thread (http://www.scarletthread.com), and Mr. Teddy His Very Self dispatched things with amazing efficiency.  Woo Hoo!

I started playing with this yesterday afternoon, and by the time the dinner dishes were finished clattering around in the washer thingie (*) I had accomplished this much:

Today is another scorcher here in Hoosierville.  The back patio is a veritable sauna of epic proportions, and I'm fretting over my poor A/C's ability to continually run without complaint and/or a nice cool beverage for sustenance.  I did manage to get all of the bird feeders filled before collapsing into a sweaty heap, but I'm afraid that not too much else will take place outside today.

Back to the Happy Chair!

I hope that wherever you are is exactly where you want to be!

(*) What can I say?  I'm a whackadoo when it comes to the dishwasher.  I will spend an hour and a half rinsing and washing the dishes BEFORE I put them in the damn thing, and then I'll agonize over the very best placement for proper cleaning efficiency, but when it comes to emptying said damn thing....nope...can't seem to do it in a timely manner whatsoever.  I blame this on the fact that I am but one person and that I only run the dishwasher a few times a week when it's full, but who am I trying to kid?  I'm without a doubt the laziest person on the whole entire planet.

JUST THE FACTS, MA'AM

The background of the big red sunflower canvas is stitched!  Now it's on to the border!  Woo Hoo!

COMPELLING EVIDENCE THAT MY MO-THER IS INDEED A COMPLETE AND TOTAL DOOFUS, BY MASTER STEWEY ANGUS WILLOWSWAMP, HIS VERY LITTLE SELF

My mom can't come to the blog right now.  She's out in the driveway batting her eyelashes at the landscapers in a feeble attempt at old lady flirting.  This in itself wouldn't be so bad (I mean, after all, a spinster's gotta do what a spinster's gotta do), but the visual is almost more than I can bear.

Rather than showering and dressing like a normal human person, my idiot mo-ther decided that a Hanes clearance bin t-shirt and a pair of eighteen year old sweatpants would be perfectly acceptable attire for "putzing" about the house today.  Never mind the fact that it's a full 90 degrees outside.  Nor am I completely thrown by the selection of the t-shirt and it's somewhat odd color.  (Is it puce?  Olive green?  Why does it change colors so in the sunlight?)

No, what's bothering me is the fact that the old lady couldn't have taken an extra two minutes in the bath this morning to drag a razor across the vast expanse of whiteness that is her lower shins.  I get the fact that a woman of her proportions doesn't necessarily have to (or want to) be bikini ready.  (I mean, who in the world would want to see THAT particular hot mess anyway?)  But don't you think it reasonable to assume that if your legs are going to stick out of the bottoms of your eighteen year old sweatpants, the least you can do is make sure that they are relatively stubble free?

Despite her horrifying appearance, the landscapers were bearing up OK and were chatting amiably with her right up to the point that she said (and I quote): "Man, Joan Crawford's got nothing on you fellas".

The resulting awkward silence prompted my mo-ther to explain that the reference is to the movie Mommie Dearest, in which Ms. Crawford (as she is portrayed by a heavily shoulder-padded and eye-browed Faye Dunaway), goes positively bat shit in the garden one evening and proceeds to hack everything to death while wearing a ball gown.  This scene is one of Mo-ther and Aunt Chrissy's favorites, and every time either of them attempt any type of shrubbery trimming, they feel compelled to call one another and shout into the telephone "CHRISTINA!  BRING ME THE AX!".

But I digress.....

While Mom's out there trying to get her peri-menopausal groove on, I decided to take matters into my own hands here inside Chez Spinster to spruce the joint up a bit.  The Big White Wall of Nothingness was really starting to depress me with its tired Spring theme, and I noticed that several of the pieces in the collection were looking a little worse for wear.  Additionally...the fake flowers in the form of spring blossoms were also looking a little shabby, so it was time for a change.  Here's the result:

I'm sure, if pressed, I could find the names and designers of all of the pieces that are hanging here, but I assume that you will just want to know how I managed to reach high enough to get everything hung properly.  Well, I'm happy to report that my lovely new friend Daphne gave me a little boost up onto her back, and she was able to stand perfectly still while I hammered away.  You might remember that Daphne is my new little baby deer friend.  She's fawn-colored, has enormous brown eyes, and she pees on everything in sight.  Just like me.  I'm auditioning her for the role of my personal assistant, and if we can work out the profit sharing and health care packages, you might see more and more of my creative endeavors here in the future.

For now, though, I'm just excited to see the look on Mom's face when she sees the drapes.

I hope that your Thursday is everything you wish it to be.  Until we meet again, I remain your loyal and devoted friend.

With love from your pal,
Stewey

FURTHER PONDERINGS FROM BEFUDDLETON COUNTY

As long as I live, I will never understand myself.  As I explained to Aunt Chrissy moments ago, I have a keen propensity for fretting over something until I've worked myself right up into a full-on frenzy, and then something snaps and I do the thing that needs to be done.  Typically, the thing that needs to be done takes all of seven minutes, and the end result is that I stand there in front of said thing wondering why I can't just rip the damn band-aid off already.

Case in point...the back patio.  For the last three months I've fretted over the state of affairs out there, and have lamented the fact that it was starting to resemble a Port Authority restroom facility.  For whatever reason, the birds and squirrels and chipmunks decided to party hardy and then leave whatever bodily excretions they thought appropriate all over the place.  It. Was. Disgusting.

But rather than break out the hose and just swish it all away already, I chose to open the drapes each morning and fret over bird poop.

For three months.

I'm happy to report that one good scrubbing later, things are put back to rights again.  The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and Stewey is thrilled that his Mommie Dearest was finally smart enough to figure out how to turn on a garden hose.

I've been stitching the background of the Big Red Sunflower.  In real life, you can't see the bright white wall behind the canvas...I promise.  I'm using a lovely black Silk and Ivory and decided to keep the background very simple so that the specialty stitches of the petals stand out a little more.  For the border, I think I've come up with something really cool, but I want to futz with it a bit before revealing the idea.  And yes, I'm still going to tart this up like a Vegas showgirl with some beads, but that will definitely be last.

What's new with you?

WEATHER -1 SPINSTER -0

My mom can't come to the blog right now.  She's too busy stomping around the house muttering something about baby powder and kindergarten paste.  I suspect that her cranky attitude has to do with the nasty bit of weather we're having, but I might also guess that she's now suffering the unfortunate side effects of being a rotund-ly sweaty woman who decided to powder her undercarriage after this morning's bath.

What can I say?  Some people really shouldn't be left to their own devices, especially when they have the mental capacity of a dining room chair.

A fair bit of stitching went on last night despite the fact that Mo-ther tried to watch Aaron Sorkin's "The Newsroom" while doing so.  You would think that she would remember that one must really sit up in the buggy to fully appreciate Mr. Sorkin's dense dialogue, but we're talking about a woman who also decided that she is capable of reading Thomas Pynchon.

Trust me.  She isn't.

I do hope that you are all well and that you will be safe and careful during tomorrow's festivities if you are here in the good 'ol U.S. of A.  If you're elsewhere, I hope that your Wednesday is everything you would wish it to be!

Until we meet again, I remain your devoted pal,
Stewey