See that upper right corner?
Well, that's all I have to go before this one is finished.
I am completely determined to accomplish this task TODAY so that I might select a new piece to play with next week. Maybe something USA related, or vaguely red, white, and blue.
Nightmares continue, unfortunately, so last night I decided to counter them by thinking about stitching. I think I might like to start a rotation again, since the last few years have seen me faithful to one piece and one piece only for months and months at a time. I was thinking that I might like to select a new project each Sunday night and stitch it during the week. I'll probably concentrate on WIPs, since I have so many going, but I do reserve the right to start something new if my fancy is struck. Maybe once a month? Or after a finish? I also reserve the right to repeat a project for a second week if I'm loving it.
What do you think, Dearies?
Yesterday was completely momentous for me. I was not feeling particularly well, but wanted to get out for some golfing with the Mister. Well, we did, and guess who played the round of her entire pitiful little life?!
I've been golfing since I was a kid, but I always s-u-c-k-e-d at it. Completely and totally. So when I gave it up about twenty years ago, I wasn't too upset about it. Playing with Mister Spinster is just a lovely way for us to spend time together, get a little exercise, and some fresh air...so when he got me out there that first time, I didn't object much.
But yesterday?
Yesterday, I was a house on fire, I tell 'ya.
Not one clue as to what I might be doing differently, but I had a wonderful time, struck the ball very well, and scored lower than I ever have. I was so completely chuffed that we came home, got cleaned up, and went BACK out for dinner and darts.
Me!
Out TWICE on a Saturday! Right there in front of God and everybody...with mascara and lipstick just like a big girl in the fancy city.
Today I can't move my arms or legs, but that's a minor inconvenience compared to the big shiny trophy I hoisted over my head in my tiny little brain last night as I was reliving the entire experience.
(Told ya...portly spinster by day...needle wielding/coffee slurping ninja by night!)
Thank you for indulging me...my mom would be mortified that I'm bragging to you all about hitting a little ball, but she hit the damn ball like Arnold Palmer His Very Self and just giggled about it. No lie...the men at the golfing place would come out on the patio to watch her tee off. She was all of five foot four and petite (always in a cute outfit and with lipstick), and she would get up there and whack that little ball further than any man in Lima. And then she would point out a pretty bird or a geranium and head off to the next adventure.
(My mom had the propensity for making the world a better place just by being in it.)
So today has started, and I am thinking about a float in the pool, a few chores, and then some stitching out on the balcony. I am tempted to convince Lovey to play another nine holes today, but don't know if my poor body can take it.
(We'll have to see how I feel after my second cup of damn good.)
Happy Sunday, Dearies! Do something fun and well and come tell us all about it!