SNICKERS, HEATH BAR, OR BUTTERFINGER...OH MY!

 

SLOWLY...BUT GETTING THERE

 

OK, BETTY. I FINALLY TOOK THE DAMN CHRISTMAS TREE DOWN.

 

Here's an important safety tip if you happen to be seven weeks post major surgery. If you do something reckless like decide to sit on the floor, have a plan for getting back up before you do so.

(I'm slowly chipping away at my to do list, and today was the day I was determined to get the Christmas tree put back into its bag. Thanks to a lovely Dearie who gifted me an amazon gift certificate, I was able to find what I think is a pretty good replacement tree so that the corner won't look so naked.)

(Thank you again, Dearie!)

Down I went to unplug things and de-dust and generally tidy up, when it occurred to me that it was going to take a minor miracle or a major forklift to get me back up. I sat there for several minutes before I confessed to my JB that I might be stuck, but I suddenly remembered a video I saw on the YouTubes about this very thing, and before I knew it...I was safely and painlessly upright once again.

(Crisis averted.)

I am now happily under the blankets with Snoopy, and as soon as my afternoon damn good knocks the cobwebs away I'm going to try to stitch a bit before making dinner. 

Happy Friday that has felt like a Saturday to me all day! If you're having the same blustery weather we are, batten the hatches! 

FINALLY...ONE I CAN COMPLETE!

 

 

 

...especially with freshly laundered sheets and blankets and after a wonderful shower with all of the "good" soaps and shampoos!

SATURDAY PLAN

 

Good morning, Dearies.

Well, I had to give myself a stern talking-to this morning already. For the last several days I have been fretting myself into a snit over this and that, and I sat down to drink my damn good with a thousand little shouldlings buzzing around in my head.

"Enough!", I bellowed loud enough to scare the neighbors.

This is probably the one time in my life when it is absolutely positively certainly and without doubt OK for me to do nothing but R.E.S.T.  And instead of fully embracing that fact, I allowed that dastardly part of my tiny little brain a moment to pipe up with all of the crap he felt I should be doing instead.

(I really dislike that little bas$#@* and wish he'd go haunt somebody else's house for a while. Mine is all full-up with all of his colleagues that tell me I should be eating better or drinking more water or taking better care of my skin.)

Phooey on all of 'em, I say!

So I am going to sit here on my big fat heiney today and enjoy my new book, enjoy my Blessing Sampler, and enjoy the last season of The Crown that I have been bingeing, and everything else can just...wait. Critical things like the bathroom and kitchen are clean enough not to warrant plague, and one more night on flannel sheets isn't going to kill anybody. I have healthy things to eat and lots of water to drink (thanks to a dispensing gizmo that prevents me from having to lift the bottle onto the cooler), and my JB will call from NJ to check in later this afternoon, I'm sure.

I'm getting there, I promise. But, as many of you know, old habits die hard, and in my head I am still capable of having a Spinster Saturday...clean the house top to bottom, run a week's worth of errands, and then still have energy left over to dine and dance the night away. Forget the fact that I was 20 when I did that, and now I'm a month away from 60...that stuff is ingrained deep deep inside.

So, I hereby announce a new mode of Spinster Saturday! Stay in your jammies, drink damn good or your bevvie of choice with impunity, and do absolutely nothing but rest and do all the things you love! Let's get started!

WHADDA YA MEAN IT ISN'T?!

 

 

AMEN

 

TRUE STORY