A LITTLE NOTE FROM MASTER STEWEY ANGUS WILLOWSWAMP, HIS VERY LITTLE SELF

My mo-ther can't come to the blog right now.  We've had a rather interesting morning here at Chez Spinster, and all I can conclude is that she might have done something incredibly stupid....or incredibly brave.  All I do know is that she is in the Happy Chair with needle and thread in hands, muttering something to herself that she will never ever never ever let anyone or anything come between her and the thing that saved her pitiful little life ever again.

I'm not sure exactly what happened, but I keep hearing the words "hyena" and "enough".  And given the fact that she got up at the crack of dawn, put on her outside clothes and shoes, and then was gone for only an hour or so, I am guessing that she decided to get out of the litter box once and for all and get back to her life.

My mo-ther is a good person.  True, I am the first to point out her failings in the areas of homekeeping, martini making, and general learning how to be out in polite society without breaking into a flop sweat and chattering like a circus monkey -- but she is kind and hard-working and decent and well-meaning (most of the time), and other than a few very dark periods from her past she has been a pretty OK person.

So the fact that this hyena was able to infiltrate her little brain and convince her that she was worthless and incompetent and lazy and stupid is surprising, but not impossible.  She didn't have her shields up.  And she didn't have the capacity to realize that no matter what this animal said or did to her, at the end of the day, she has me and Aunt Chrissy and my pesky little cousin Bosco and all of you to have her back.  

I'm not going to disturb her from her stitching today, since it's the first time I've seen a smile on her face in months, but I did want to let you all know how much your love and encouragement and words of wisdom have meant and have done for her (and me) these last several weeks.  Thank you, dear pals.  From the bottom of my silk smoking jacket clad heart, I love and cherish you deeply.

Now I'm going to get back to my sunspot near the patio door.  But first I need to pee on the ottoman.

With love,
Your Pal Stewey 

IT'S REALLY NOT EASY BEING ME...

Thank you for all of your comfort.  Sometimes all a spinster needs is the tender ministrations of her friends, a pat on the hand, a cup of of tea, and a "There, there, you poor dear" thrown in for good measure.

I made my trip to the bank and spent a delightful time with the lovely representative, who, as it would just so happen, was a classmate from Notre Dame.   I don't think we ever crossed paths while there, but it sure was nice to have a kind face lead me through what was surprisingly a relatively painless process.

Waiting until Saturday to get a new card is a little panic provoking, but I always have Stewey's emergency twenty to count on if I can't make it to the branch for a lobby cash withdrawl.

So I came home feeling slightly better than I did last night, when I discovered that my account had been hit again.  Same online dating site....different amount.

You will be happy and very proud to know that I harnessed my inner potty mouth and called the online dating site to politely let them know that if they hit my card or account again, I might just have to take it up with the duly designated authorities.

At  least that's how it went in my head anyway.

Turns out that I don't have a dog in the hunt, since my bank credited my account for both charges, and it's now up to THEM to chase this down....which, by the way, they probably won't do because the amounts are so miniscule when compated to the ba-jillion dollars that they normally have to keep track of.

So somewhere out there are a couple of people who will enjoy a month or two of online dating, thanks to my bank and the fact that there are apparently more important things in the world than worrying about an idiot spinster's debit identity.

I swear life was a lot simpler when you could buy stuff with two goats and a jar of jam.

GRRRRRR...

Dear person who stole my debit card number and used it to buy a subscription to an online dating site that shall remain nameless....

Really?

If the charge would have been for food, or an electric bill, or medicine for you or a sick child, I'm one of those idiots that would have happily given you the last eighteen cents in my account if I thought it would help you.

But a dating site?

I get it....truly....I do.  Being alone can seem like a very bad proposition, and I suppose that you figured that companionship would fix whatever ails you.  But do you really want to find your Prince or Princess Charming with a stolen credit card?

Phooey on you.  My morning will be spent at the bank ordering a new card, and then on the phone with all of the places that I had that old card on file to make buying things like prescriptions and car insurance and Stewey insurance that much easier.

Can a spinster just get a break, please?

Methinks I am not meant to be in the world writ large, and that life would get a lot better if I just took my little dog and a diet Coke and headed to the studio.

So how was your weekend?

UGH

I haven't stitched since February 1st, which means I haven't been me since February 1st, which means Stewey, Bosco, and Aunt Chrissy are ready to put me at the curb with a sign that says "Free to a good home.  She eats a lot, but knows how to load a dishwasher like nobody's business.  Just don't ask her to actually empty the damn thing, and you'll get along just fine.  Updated on all shots and vaccines, and fairly housebroken, but ridiculously high maintenance and not to be trusted with other pets or small children, since she has a tendency to take their toys."

Ugh.

Ugh.

Ugh.

IT'S THE EASTER JACK RUSSELL TERRIER, CHARLIE BROWN!

I only have a quick minute before You Know Who decides to wake up from his post-luncheon nap, so I'll have to make this quick....

Aunt Chrissy and I had a lovely Saturday with the girls at House of Stitches.  (Waving a hearty HELLOOO! to Miss Linda, Miss Joy, and Miss Cherry!).  Provisions were purchased, threads were petted, and the Spinster Stitcher Basket 'O Stitching Fun was updated accordingly.  (Pictures to follow, I promise).

Easter dawned bright and early (as I think it usually does), and a fine time was had by all.  Stewey participated in an egg hunt on the back lawn of the neighbors, and managed NOT to chew the arm off of three tiny little girls dressed all in yellow.  I was dumbstruck and amazed, but my stupid dog hopped around noodging the hidden eggs, stood over them until a tiny little girl dressed all in yellow came to collect it for her basket, and then wiggled his tail and barked heartily as they scampered to the next conquest.

Whew.

I am DEFINITELY not insured for him to be his usual anti-social ferocious snarling self with tiny little girls dressed all in yellow.

Aunt Chrissy insists that Stewey really is part bunny and that the outfits of the tiny little girls dressed all in yellow were Little Lord Fauntleroy approved, so that's the only reason why we avoided catastrophe.

I'm just happy I don't have to move.