WE'LL BE BACK RIGHT AFTER THIS MESSAGE...

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Now back to the show!

EIGHT DAYS...

Oh, for pity's sakes.

It has been eight long days since I have had needle and thread in hand. There's really no reason for this, other than the fact that life seems to keep getting in the way of doing so. 

Note to self: Remedy it. Today.

Thanks for your notes, Dearies. My test went well yesterday, and I am happy to report that I only complained once about being hungry and ready for a BigMac. The sedatives seemed to last a lot longer than usual, but I was able to get good rest and lots of Grace and Frankie episodes completed.

Today is a chair day, so as soon as I finish my visit with you, I'll pack my bag and head out. I have new snacks today, thanks to our grocery trip on Saturday, so I have to ask...Who's happier than me?

(I take my sippy cup with something cold, BelVita breakfast cookies, grapes, baby carrots, and granola bars usually. Today, though, I have tiny little sandwiches on cocktail rye bread with turkey and cheese!)

My project bag will go with me this time, since I am totally optimistic that I was be able to stitch today! (At least...that's that happy thought I'm going with.)

Happy Futzingday, my sweeties!  Do something fun and futzy and come tell me all about it!

THE SPINSTER STITCHER SUMMER OF THE YES BEGINS WITH A MEMORIAL DAY MONDAY OF THE NO

No solid food.

No red or purple.

No milk or cream.

Guess who scheduled her annual colonoscopy for the day after Memorial Day? Today is prep day, which means a whole lot of...well...my delicate sensibilities prohibit me from explaining further, but tomorrow we'll have the whole picture.

Inside and out.

My maternal grandmother and mother both died of metastatic colon cancer, my dear Dad had Crohn's, I have Crohn's, and I am over 50. So an annual colonoscopy isn't so much of an inconvenience as it is a life saver.

Besides...I read somewhere that Gweneth Paltrow pays tens of thousands of dollars to go to a spa somewhere for organic coffee heiney treatments to "cleanse" herself, so I figure if it's good enough for Gweneth, it's good enough for me.

So carry on, Dearies. I'm heading to chair time later this morning, and then think I'll come home to a dip in the pool and some stitching. If you are here in the U.S. and have a three day weekend...enjoy and come tell me all about it!

IN WHICH WE EMBARK ON THE OFFICIAL SPINSTER STITCHER SUMMER OF THE YES

I have decided that this is going to be the Summer of the Yes.

That means that when Mister Spinster says "Let's go to the pool" on a Sunday afternoon, and it's 197 degrees outside and there are eleventy-seven thousand screaming children in said pool and I would rather sit in my pajamas and stitch in eat pasta salad, I say..."Yes! That sounds like fun!"

Because I remember a time when I would have given my laying tool to have somebody to do things with or a swimming pool in which to do them.

So we're going to see if the Summer of the Yes brings about fun and adventure.

Pray for me, Dearies. I suspect that there is trouble on the horizon with all of this Yes-sing afoot.

FINALLY...A FRIDGE A SPINSTER AND INA CAN LOVE

Mister Spinster and I have two very different ways of menu planning, grocery shopping, and fridge stocking. He's more of a "stand in front of the open door and see what still looks good" kind of guy, and I'm more of a "let's try to make this look like a spread in Martha Stewart Living" girl.

So we headed to the Martin's...armed with my menu plan and lists and coupons and came home with enough stuff to get us through the next several weeks, if not the entire summer. Then, after Mister S carted everything upstairs and headed to the pool, I channelled my inner Ina and putzed for almost two full hours:

I made a fruit salad, a pasta salad, a Greek salad, deviled eggs, and tiny little ham and turkey sandwiches on cocktail rye bread. We've also got burgers on English muffins, Italian sausage sandwiches with peppers and onions, and baby back ribs all ready for the grill, with corn on the cob and brownies for dessert.

The freezer is full of frozen berries for smoothies, bagels, buns, and enough chicken to feed an army, and the pantry has crackers and chips and pretzels and chips for snacking till doomsday.

Silly, I know, but I think my honeybuns is missing the shore terribly this weekend, so I wanted to try to make it nice for him. Anybody who has ever lived by the ocean will tell you that there's just nothing like beach life, and despite a pretty day and a swimming pool, I think he's homesick.

Now it's time for me to shower and change. I can't seem to stop sweating today, so methinks I am really feeling the effects of heat/humidity and dialysis, or I've just stepped from the vestibule to the parlor of menopausal hell. 

It's just not easy being me.

Stitching and movies this evening...I promse! Hope your day is swell!

OK...LET'S TRY THIS AGAIN

Remember last Saturday? I planned a day of reading, stitching, and resting, but ended up hither and yon instead.

Today, though, I am determined to rest.

Provisions must be gotten, and then it's back to CS2 for salad making, TeeVee viewing, and stitching. It's in the 80's today with 80% humidity, so methinks inside activity is the order of this day. But first, the paper and damn good are calling.

Not much of a report, but a report nonetheless on a steamy summer Saturday, Dearies. I hope that your very own day is wonderfully swell. Do something fun and come tell me all about it!

CURRENT VIEW

AGAIN WITH THE NO STITCHING...OEY

My day "off" yesterday was actually quite swell, but nary a stitch was taken. I had a morning appointment, then a nice nap, and then another round of golf in the evening with Mister Spinster. I did well enough, but realized half way through that the heat and humidity are going to be more of a problem for me now. Apparently, one of the other added benefits of this thing of mine is an increased intolerance to heat.

And we all know how well I did in the heat already...oey.

So today I am off to the chair and then to the grocery for holiday weekend provisions. I'm thinking all salads all the time...pasta, potato, and fruit...along with something fun on the grill. I don't have my grill here at the apartment (because that would be illegal), but the complex provides one for us down by the pool.

Mister Spinster is already jonesing for a beach (I can tell), so tomorrow I might put him in the car and head over to Lake Michigan with the masses. I'm sure it will be nothing like his beach in Atlantic City, but...water, sand, seagulls...what's not to love?

I'll stitch...I promise.  I really am trying not to get too completely wrapped up in my head about it and just let it flow. I'll carry my project to the chair today, but won't get too nuts if it doesn't work out.

Happy Weekend, Dearies! If this is a long one for you...savor every minute and come tell me all about it!

IN WHICH WE HAVE A REVELATION ON THE JOURNEY OF LIFE...

I'm old, I'm slow, and apparently I like to hit things.

---Spinster Stitcher

In the last several days I have played pickleball and golf.

(Pause for reaction.)

The pickleball experiment was a whim/challenge that Happened last Saturday evening when Mister Spinster made a crack about me and my propensity for sitting in my Happy Chair all day. I picked up that gauntlet and before I knew it, I was at the Walmarts looking for the sporting good section.

I don't want to imply that I'm an actual athlete or anything remotely close to such, but...

I AM THE WORLD'S GREATEST PICKLEBALL PLAYER.  EVER.

Mister Spinster was stunned, suitably humbled, and picking pickleball remnants out of his teeth for the rest of the evening.

The next morning, just as I was settling in with my paper, book, and stitching for the day...he did it again.

This time, the gauntlet was in the form of a golf ball. I suspect that Mister Spinster chose this particular sport because he remembered that a) I haven't played the game in almost 20 years, and b) I am so bad at the game that no less than six pros have given me my money back after trying (unsuccessfully) to teach me how hit the ball.

So I dusted off my clubs (literally), shoved my feet into my 30 year old golf shoes (which fit...remarkably), and decided that, if nothing else, it was a pretty day for a ride in a cart.

We went over to campus and paid our twenty bucks (nineteen for me as an alumna!) and after much fussing to find a glove, a ball, and a tee...headed out.

Mister S teed off first and hit it a thousand miles, as usual. He tried, he really did, but I swear I saw a smug little smirk on his face as we headed to the ladies' tees.

I was terrified.

I immediately looked around to see who else would share in my humiliation, said a little prayer to my folks in heaven, took a deep breath, and then...crushed it straight down the center of the fairway.

I AM THE WORLD'S GREATEST GOLFER. EVER.

As God is my witness, Dearies, I have no earthly idea where the heck this came from. I'm not completely without a modicum of coordination (I do, after all, have the ability to use a laying tool!), but me play sports? Adequately?

I wouldn't bet the ranch on that one.

No idea at all what the difference is, but I suspect that age and wisdom are both playing a part, as well as the fact that I'm so darn tired that I don't have the energy to overthink anything, let alone a swing or proper stance or ball placement, etc.  All I do know is that I enjoyed myself immensely and with every THWACK of the ball I felt my troubles just melt away.

(Hmmmmmm.  I need to remember to discuss this with Dr. Melfi. I do hope that it's not some manifestation of inner rage or something.  Wouldn't that be interesting? Mild-mannered spinster by day...fire-breathing demon hitting things at night!)

Chair time is upon me, so I suppose I better go. I am physically a bit wiped out, so methinks I might just settle in with a movie or two today.

Happy Futzingday to all! Do something fun and come tell me all about it!

OOOOHHHH....SO THIS IS WHAT ALL THE FUSS IS ABOUT

My Jersey Boy loves this balcony almost as much as he likes Taylor pork roll. He comes out here almost every day and spends hours and hours listening to a ballgame or puffing a cigar.

I confess that when I moved in to CS2, I glanced out the window a few times and thought "Eh...that's nice", but it never occured to me that I could enjoy it too.

But today I decided to grab my second cup of damn good and the paper and give it a go. I also grabbed my iPad and stitchy project, and I have to tell you...me likey!  There is a gorgeous cool breeze, the temp is about 65ish, and the birds are tweeting sweetly.

Maybe there really is something to this whole outside thing after all...

Thank you for all of your well wishes, Dearies. This damned cough is lingering, but I am upright and following all precautions and doctors' orders (and there are a ton of them!) Apparently, this hit the dialysis unit pretty hard and several of my fellow patients are in hospital battling it out. 

Could I impose on you to pray for them too?

OK...we're off to the races!  I hope you have an utterly swell Tuesday and that your heart sings with everything you love! Come tell me all about it!

MAYNIA? WHAT'S MAYNIA?

I haven't stitched in a week.

Going to remedy that today.

Or else.

SUNDAY PLAN

This cough/flu/plague is just relentless, I tell ya. Despite my very best hopes that it would have disappeared by now...alas...I am still decidedly unwell.

There are plans afoot, however, for a perfect Spinster Sunday.

If the weather cooperates (which I hope it doesn't), I will go outside for some mandatory fresh air. Rich is convinced that a longer and healthier life is guaranteed with 30 minutes of the e-word every day, and I am convinced that I was built for comfort and not for speed.  That's OK...despite my protestations, I know he's right and need to (pardon my languange) get off my duff.

I think I have a relatively quiet week ahead before all h-e-double hockey sticks breaks out next. For some strange reason I decided to schedule every single one of my annual medical exams all at once, so Memorial Day week will be filled with tests and appointments.

Better enjoy the peace and quiet while I can!

The Chicken Sisters are off on another adventure. I thought they might head to a quiet little cottage at a lake, but rumor has it they were spotted in the infield at Pimlico yesterday. I intercepted this message on their Facebook account this morning:

"Hey, Josephine and Eleanor! Great partying with you! Next time, we'll bring the Fireball! Can you believe Petey in that mud pit? Chuck says sorry about the rental car..."

If the old gals show up with bits of racing forms still stuck in their feathers and the phone numbers for these guys...we're going to have to have another talk about comportment.

So that's the report for the day, Dearies. I hope your very own Sunday is full of everything you want, like damn good, all the things, and stitching...and nothing you don't, like coughing and misbehaving chickens!

WHAT A LOVELY WAY TO SPEND A SATURDAY...

OK...show of hands here in the US: Who else got up at 4am to have tea and Tastycakes while watching the wedding coverage?

🙋🏻

FUTZINGDAY UPDATES

I'm still under the weather, but thought I'd share the results of last week's Futzingday:

Small changes, but changes nonetheless.

I'm off to the chair...going to try to stitch again today if I'm able. Meds are really knocking me out, but hopefully I will feel well enough to take a stitch or two.

Hope your very own Futzingday is wonderfully swell, Dearies! Thank you for all of your thoughts and prayers...Miss Cathryn...mine are with you!

I WANT MY MOMMIE...

AND THEN ON MAY 14TH WE CAUGHT THE PLAGUE...

Oh, fer cryin' out loud....

I have either caught a cold, have the flu, or am suffering from the worst seasonal allergy session known to man (or spinster). I am feverish, sound like a fog horn, and am coughing up a lung every five minutes.

And I'm at dialysis.

With a surgical mask on.

Which is making me feel claustrophobic and like Darth Vader all at the same time.

Oey. It's just not easy being me today.

Mister Spinster made it home from New Jersey...all safe and sound and laden with treats. We now have Atlantic City Italian bread in the freezer, Taylor pork roll in the fridge, and James salt water taffy in the jar. He also brought home a tomato pie and subs from the White House...but those were gone quickly. He was thrilled to be home and very happy with some things I had accomplished around CS2 to make it more homey for us both.  I hung some plants on the balcony and cleared out the dresser and closet better for his things and hung some of my stitching.

(Photos to follow).

What I did NOT do was stitch yesterday, but I have a special dispensation from the Stitchy Vatican for being sick. Hopefully, if things continue here smoothly today, I will feel like doing so when I get home.

So that's the report for a stormy Monday here in Hoosierville. I hope that (if applicable), you had a good Mother's Day, and that your week is starting off on a wonderfully swell note!

MAY 13

Today is Stewey's birthday, the 14th anniversary of Dad's passing, and Mother's Day.

Will someone please pass the tissues?

IN WHICH THE CHICKEN SISTERS QUARREL OVER A GENTLEMAN CALLER

There was a lot of fuss here at CS2 last night. The Chicken Sisters had plans to go visiting, but their new protegee' (who, it turns out, was actually hired to serve as social secretary, procurer of beverages, and designated driver) got the signals mixed up and invited the newest love interest here instead.

He seems nice enough...a retired internist from Miami named Morty. I confess that his constant joking and banter got on my nerves a bit, but the poor fellow was unexpectedly the only male here, so he was really on the spot:

Penelope, for her part, did adequately well serving cocktails and h'orderves, but methinks she might be overmatched. I seem to remember the Chicken Sisters' former assistant...a lovely young woman who left their employ for a quieter job as an air traffic controller.

Today promises to be quiet. The girls are at the beauty parlor, Penelope is hiding somewhere in the pantry, and I am left to my own devices with the paper and a couple cups of damn good. 

Here's hoping that the weekend is swell all around, Dearies! Do something fun and come tell me all about it!

AND THEN IT WAS FRIDAY...

A complete Howard's End day yesterday. First I watched the four-part series on the Starz, and then I re-watched the movie with Emma Thompson and Anthony Hopkins. Both were just what this spinster needed on a quiet Thursday.

Progress continues on my Monogomania piece:

Before I know it, the incoming residents will be demanding a community centre and a block party!

(Methinks I will be happy to oblige.)

Enjoy your Friday, Dearies! I am off to dialysis like a herd of turtles with high hopes that the angioplasty and futzing was successful! Come tell me all anout your adventures!

IN WHICH THE CHICKEN SISTERS INTRODUCE THEIR PROTEGEE'...PENELOPE VON PINSTABLE

A LITTLE CHANGE OF SCENERY ON A FUTZINGDAY...

Thank you for your well wishes for my adventure yesterday. I am happy to report that they worked, because I managed not to pull a full-on Tony Soprano right there on the table and panic, the doc was superb, and the entire team thought it hilarious that my "happy place" was a conference room in a mid-level city overlooking a lake with good lighting, lots of damn good, and the Spinster Nation gathered 'round with needles and threads.

Today I get to skip dialysis and let Buzzy heal a bit, so I am on the couch with necessities at hand and a plan to do nothing but rest and heal for the duration.

If the weather and my energy levels cooperate, I will venture down to the treadmill a little later and then come home for a big salad and a nap...probably in that order.

Just a little stitching last night...but I am still on track for my Monogomania plan!

There would have been more were it not for the binge of Southern Charm episodes and a Real Housewives reunion. My teevee viewing has been all sports all the time lately, so it was time for a little Bravo therapy while Lovey is away. (Is it wrong that it almost felt a little naughty?)

So there you have it, Dearies. All the news from Lake WoeBeSpinster. I hope your very own Futzingday is futzy and that you get to...you know.

SPINSTER STAG WEEK

Here it is...6:40 on a Tuesday morning, and I am already up and about. Mister Lovey is traveling this week, and wanted to get an early start today, so I am left to my own devices and shenanagins for the duration.

Today, though, I have the unpleasant task of taking Buzzy in for a check up/oil change. He has been just a little too ornery for our liking, so the fine folks at the Access Center will knock me out, take his picture, and then roto-root the crap out of him. 

As unpleasant as this sounds, it really is part and parcel of maintaining a good access for dialysis. We suspect that Buzzy is good and strong, but that he may have developed some little twists and turns that are making the insertion of the needles to be a little tricky. So in I go, and tomorrow life should be much better in the D-chair.

Speaking of...I did get a fair amount of stitching done yesterday, and my lap stand worked brilliantly! It sat right where it needed to, did not get in anybody's way, and allowed me to keep my left arm completely still. Spinster win!

Wouldn't you just love to live in a little blue house with pink curtains and a stone fireplace?

So today I will hurry up and finish my damn good (need to be NPO four hours before the procedure), I'll read the paper and check the Instagrams, and then I'll write a big long list of all of the things I want to accomplish while Rich is away. I know that the closets need cleaning and some ferns need to be procured for the balcony, but beyond that...who knows.

The Chicken Sisters and I promise to behave ourselves without adult supervision this week. (Well...I do anyway. You never quite know what the two of them are going to get into!)

Here's hoping that your Tuesday is perfectly swell and that you get to do whatever your heart desires. Come tell me all about it!

MONDAY CHAIR DAY

MOVING RIGHT ALONG...MONOGOMAYNIA DAY FIVE COMPLETE

Rich and The Chicken Sisters have gone to Mass, but not without a lot of fussing and fretting over hat selection. It ended, finally, with Rich saying (just a little louder than usual) "Ladies!! It's not a fashion show! It's church!".

And they stopped clucking about, grabbed their pocketbooks, and headed out...feathers ruffled.

Today is another beautiful day here in Hoosierville, but I am hoping for a little Happy Chair time with my stitching. Yesterday was fun, but methinks I got a little too much daylight for my liking. The good news, though, is that the whole time I was out there in the Hinterlands,  I wasn't stitchy twitching like I normally am...I had gotten my fix on Friday!

Once all of the sports had concluded and I was able to get back to it, I made a little more progress, thus keeping my pledge to stitch every day in May. I have to say, I don't think I've ever successfully kept a pledge for five days before! Feels fantastic!

This piece makes me happier and happier the more I stitch it. The fabric is 32ct Jobelan in Lemonade from Colour and Cotton, and is perfectly wonderful to play with. (The color is actually a lovely pale yellow in real life, but my craptastic photographic skills...sigh.)

I was trying to determine if my chair stitches are significantly different than my non-chair. What do you think? The O and half of the little pink heart are chair...all else non-chair:

Well, will you listen to me ramble on and on! I better get moving a bit and get a few things done around here before Mister Lovey comes home with the New York Times. Thanks for visiting with me, Dearies! I hope you have a perfect Sunday! 

IN WHICH THE SPINSTER AND HER MISTER WATCH ALL OF THE SPORTS, EAT HOT DOGS, AND GET SOME SUN

First it was the Notre Dame vs Army lacrosse game:

Then it was the Notre Dame vs Pittsburgh baseball game:

Then it was home for the Sixers:

And the Kentucky Derby:

In between there was lots of sunshine and sweating (that would be me), hotdogs and cheering (that was both of us), and then some betting and winning (that would not be me).

I'm all sports' out, kids. After a nice cool bath, metinks I will do a little stitching and guzzle some more water so that I don't cramp up like a crazy person tonight. Mister is out on the balcony enjoying a cigar, so while I've got some peace and quiet I think I'll enjoy it!

AAAAAAHHHHHH......

Oh, my very Dearies...yesterday was wonderful!

I honestly don't know what possessed me to do so, but on the way out to the car I grabbed my stitchy bag and tucked it next to my heiney blanket.

(I made a little throw with baby yarn on a knitting loom..you know...the cream colored one that Stewey loved to cuddle in...because my heiney gets sore from sitting in the D-chair.)

Anywhoose...I told my tech that I would behave myself, but I was going to try to stitch because stitching is my life and I am dying a slow death not being able to do it in the D-chair, and she said "You go, girl. Don't worry 'bout 'nuthin. We'll figure it out for you.")

Apparently, because I have been such a good patient thus far and not complained about my chair, have arrived on time, and have not demanded a lot of attention, the D-gods took pity on me and allowed me to experiment.

I was very very very careful and managed to get situated in such a way that the treatment was not affected at all. My pressures in both needles remained perfect, my lines stayed quiet, and I stayed still during blood pressure measurement.

It was slow going, to be sure, but the moment the needle and thread hit my hand I went into the zone and didn't come out until it was time to come home.

Spinster Freakin' Bliss.

I'm not going to get discouraged if I can't do it every time...I think that the needle placement and the tech's willingness to let me bend my arm a bit will vary, and sometimes I'm just not going to feel well enough to do so. But on days that I can...I'm gonna be a stitching fool!

Here's my progress...meagre, to be sure, but progress!

And here's the whole piece so far...'scuse the toes!

The sun is shining and the birds are tweeting sweetly today, Dearies! We're heading over to campus for the sporting things...a lacrosse game and then a baseball game...and then it's home to watch the Sixers and the Kentucky Derby!  I hope that your very own Saturday is a win win win! Come tell me all about it!

GAME. CHANGER.

Pray for me, Dearies. Today is the Great Dialysis Stitchy Experiment. So far I've threaded a needle and taken four stitches! Thanks to a wondeful tech...we're gonna give this a go!

AND A LITTLE BIT MORE...

I got a late start on stitching yesterday, but made some progress nonetheless.  Now we're off on a Friday adventure!

What's on your agenda for the day?

TWO DOWN...TWENTY NINE TO GO!

Day Two of Maynia dawned bright and early for me, so I decided to regain consciousness with needle and thread in hand.

Is it an age thing? I used to be the kind of spinster who would be wide awake and ready to start the day the moment my toes hit the floor.  I would put my glasses on my face, pat a sleeping Stewey, look out the window, and then get on with it.

But now? Not so much at all.

I do try to get up at the same time each day, but I can honestly tell you that I am utterly and completely zombiefied for at least two hours upon waking. I stumble to the ladies...mix up my juice and fiber stuff...swallow my pills...and then make my first cup of damn good all under the veil of Sleepytown. It's not until the second cup goes down that I realize I'm upright and that this is indeed the planet Earth.

My nurses and techs have explained to me that dialysis hangover is a real thing, but I had hoped to be an old pro by now.  Until I get the hang of this thing, though (no pun intended), I have a total of twenty-four hours in a week that are...normal. Those twenty-four hours happen Saturday afternoon to Sunday afternoon, and I am determined to make the most of them.

What am I doing the other hours of the week, you ask?

Well, if I'm not nursing a hangover from treatment the day before, I am fretting the prospect of treatment the day after.

(It's a simple formula, actually. Twenty-four hours a week I am a fully-functioning pleasant human. The other hundred and forty-four I am an incoherent lump.)

So today I will get suitable for outside company (shoes and a bra), I'll visit with Dr. Melfi for a minute, and then head to the library to pick up a big stack of books. If the weather holds out, Lovey and I are going to attempt a round of golf, and then it's home for salmon and a big salad.

But in the meantime, there is a little stitching to report. I confess that I went off script with the little white house (which was supposed to be a little pink house), but by the time I caught the error it was just a stitch past the "Oh, screw it" portion of the program.

So with all due respect to Mr. Mellenkamp...I give you little white houses for you and me:

I hope your very own Thursday is wonderfully swell, my Dears!  Do something that blows your skirt up and come tell me all about it!

MONOGAMAYNIA...WHO KNEW?!

I really need to sit up in the buggy, Dearies. As per usual, I am a day late and a dollar short and three steps behind the world.

All this time I've been fretting over my Maynia abilities, and there happens to be a group of Mayniacs out there concentrating on one project for the duration.

I'm in!

So the Official Spinster Stitcher Maynia 2018 plan is to just stitch. Everyday. No time limit. No big long crazy rules that I will be certain to break in five minutes. Just stitch every damn day on my little house alphabet piece and enjoy every single second of it.

Period.

End of story.

Full stop.

So thank you to whoever the lovely Mastermind was who came up with the system that will allow me to play along with y'all! I feel like a little kid who just discovered the gateway to the cool kids' playground!

AND THE AWARD FOR EARLIEST EXIT FROM MAYNIA GOES TO...

It is 9:05 pm on the very first flipping day of Stitch Maynia and I'm already out.  Not one stitch was taken today by this here Spinster Stitcher...not one.  Instead, Mr. Lovey and I ran several errands, took a look at the Notre Dame golf course, and then went to a baseball game.

Baseball.

Me. 

At a baseball game.

OK, I confess. I really did enjoy myself and even managed to have a hot dog and not feel too terribly guilty about it, because I also somehow managed to get my steps in, all of the bills paid, and four loads of laundry accomplished.

But stitch?

Nope.

Now it's time for bed and I am going to lay my head on my pillow with the knowledge that when it comes to commitment and organizing and participation...I...just...suck.

*******************HOLY CRAP ON A CRACKER!*******************

I really am losing my damn mind. As I was typing this with a big fat frown on my face, Mr. Lovey asked me what the matter was, and when I explained to him that I had missed Day One of my very first Maynia, he looked at me like I was nuts and said "BoBo! You stitched for forty five minites this afternoon when I got home from pickleball!"

And then I remembered that I DID stitch today!  I did!  I did!  And I stitched a total of 82 stitches, so even if Mr. Lovey is completely delusional and I didn't stitch past 31 minutes...I DID STITCH AT LEAST 31 STITCHES SO I WIN AND AM QUEEN HIGH EXHALTED OF THE ENTIRE FREAKIN UNIVERSE!!

I have to ask you, Dearies...who's happier than me?!?!

So without further adooooo, I bring you:

Spinster Stitcher Maynia Day One:

IN WHICH THE CHICKEN SISTERS INTRODUCE GREAT AUNT ENID...