MONDAY MONDAY

I'm not sure what has come over me, but today found me in my closet with the vacuum cleaner in hand and a ruthless determination to clean that sucker to within an inch of it's life. Mission accomplished, but I am so tired and sore that it will be a miracle if I make it out of the Happy Chair tonight.

(As with everything else in my life, it would seem that I am proverbially behind with the whole Spring Cleaning thing. By about six years.)




(And yes, in case you were wondering...those are indeed my mumus hanging on the back of the door. One must have something colorful in which to laze about now, mustn't one?)

(The Snoopy picture is actually a puzzle that Aunt Chrissy and I put together one night long ago. I ModPodged it and look at it every day wondering how I could turn that into a needlepoint canvas. Wouldn't that just be the coolest?)

Since I finished my LJP last night, I have to head up to the studio to paw through my baskets to see what's next on the stitchy agenda. I'm waffling between picking up a cross stich (maybe a Shepherd's Bush?) or a painted canvas (maybe the Cooper Oaks floral?) or another counted canvas design (how about AmyBear's Fascination?). Isn't it a crying shame that this will be the most important thing I have to decide today?

I seem to remember a fabulous rotation system that I swore to abide by several months ago. What the hell happened to THAT? And the best part is that instead of feeling like a schmuck because I abandoned the darn thing, I just kind of went "eh" in my head and moved on. Man, am I a paragon of discipline, or what? Good thing I never had kids, or they'd be running around with scissors while paying in traffic with plastic bags over their heads. Sheesh.

Stewey wanted me to thank you all for the suggestion that he listen to the Harry Potter books on his iPod. He has decided to read them on his Kindle instead so that he will feel adequately prepared to advance to the next reading grade level in the Fall. Besides, he's convinced that somebody is eventually going to have to be in charge around here, and if there are any directions needing to be read upon my demise, he wants to be fully prepared. Damn dog.

HAPPY DANCE (OW OW OW OW OW)

Today I had the bright idea that it was time to clean my bedroom. I mean really clean. Like move the bed and everything.

Now for most people this wouldn't be a very big deal, but for me it meant a call to Aunt Chrissy to ask her to come over to help me with the big girl sleigh bed. I love my bed, I really do. It was my first purchase as a real grown-ass adult and I loved it the moment I saw it. But it's big. Really big. And heavy too.

Within seven seconds, Aunt Chrissy had rummaged through the laundry room cabinets to find the slidy-discy thingies that I bought on impulse from QVC about ten years ago. Then after she channeled her inner Incredible Hulk, she lifted each corner of the big girl sleigh bed and stuck one of the slidy-discy thingies under it. MAGIC! Woo Hoo! I was able to slide the whole bed around as if it was gliding across a frozen pond.

Seven hours later and I can honestly say that every nook and cranny of that room has been adequately cleaned, polished, and spiffed up to within an inch of it's life:

(Oh, holy crap! I forgot that the coverlet is still in the dryer! So you can see my crappy bed-making skills and a messy blanket hanging over the edge! Oh no! Please don't tell Martha!)

The real reason I wanted to show you this picture was so that you could see the slidy-discy thingies. See?

After a quick trip to the grocery store (avocados were on sale, don't you know), I settled in for the night with LJP's "Star Spangled Quilt" and....woo hoo for me!.....finished it! I am so tickled with this finish. Now if I can just figure out what to do with it:

Laura J. Perin

"Star Spangled Quilt"

18ct. mono canvas

Watercolors, DMC #5 perle cotton, Kreinik 1/16th ribbon

Well, the clock is telling me that it's time to find a pillow. Stewey has been a real trooper during the cleaning festivities today, so I want to spend a little cuddle time with him before I pass out. He asked me to start reading the Harry Potter books to him, but I think we'll need to start them tomorrow night. Mommie's tired.

(And yes, I do read to my dog every night. Methinks it's why he's smarter than I am.)

OK, WHO GAVE STEWEY A BASEBALL BAT?

I am fairly certain that my nine-pound bundle of joy is beating me with a blunt instrument in my sleep. Yesterday I awoke with what can only be described as a "twisty" feeling in my lower back, and by noon it had progressed to actual pain.

Now I know that I am a fine physical specimen of what happens to you when your most strenuous activity of the day is pulling the cover off your Ginghers, but this is ridiculous. Today I am shuffling around the house muttering "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow" as I contemplate how much trouble it would be to put the damn dog into a night night cage at bedtime. The current state of affairs is that he is lifted gently up onto the big girl sleigh bed and then he nuzzles down under the covers for his shut-eye. This leaves me to contort myself into odd shapes so that I don't disturb him. God forbid.

Well tonight I'm putting the proverbial foot down and demanding that I get more than a scant two and a half inches on which to perch for the night. If he insists on taking up that much room, I can accommodate him quite nicely by sleeping in the guest room. (Insert obvious eye-rolling here. Yes, I KNOW he's a dog but unfortunately HE doesn't know he's a dog. So until somebody explains this to him, I am better off just working with the current state of affairs around here and calling it a day).

I'm smacking myself in the head that my stitchy progress is sooooo small these last few days. I don't feel like I've had any good extended time in the Happy Chair to get this piece done, so I need to change that immediately.

(For the record, I'm blaming all of you. If you wouldn't insist on having so many lovely things to look at on your blogs, then I wouldn't be compelled to read them for hours every day and I could get on with things. So stop it. Please.)

The baseboards did not get touched yesterday, but I did manage to write a Spring Cleaning list in my head that will certainly be useful once I decide to start said Spring Cleaning. (I'm aiming for the Fall of 2010, in case you're interested.)

In the meantime, methinks I need to plant my heiney and get a'movin on this project!

PLEASE PASS THE GATORADE

Well, here's the latest pic of my progress on LJP's "Star Spangled Quilt". I'll admit that this should have been finished yesterday, but I was too busy dehydrating myself while bawling through the Michael Jackson memorial.

I wish I could explain myself. I mean, I never actually knew that I was a Michael Jackson fan. Sure, I watched the Thriller video with all of my friends like everybody else, and I imagine that I even made a fool of myself once or twice on a dance floor trying to do the moonwalk. But cry over a televised memorial service for somebody that I hadn't paid attention to in 25 years?

As I contemplated the waterworks sprouting from my eyeballs, I finally decided that what was killing me is that no matter what your opinion of the guy....he was somebody's dad. And he was somebody's son. And somebody's brother. And THEN! when his little daughter decided to tell the whole world that she thought her daddy was the best father you could ever imagine, I thought I was going to have a stroke over the sadness of it all. (I'm pretty sure that my insides are made entirely of marshmallow fluff, but there are worst things I could be than a sappy fool, I guess.)

So today is all about leaving Neverland and smacking myself right back into the reality of Chez Spinster and its upkeep. Stewey and I are up to our eyeballs in laundry, and I've promised to finish it completely before moving on to anything fun. I should be on my hands and knees washing baseboards, but one must pace oneself, mustn't one?

ONE MORE SIGN THAT I'M SPENDING TOO MUCH TIME TALKING TO THE DAMN DOG

So there I was, minding my own business, when I decided to settle in for my daily dose of stitchy blog reading. I do this every day, but I have now tried to use this time as a reward for when I actually accomplish something more than finishing my first cup of coffee in the morning. (Amazing how you can sit down to start looking at them and suddenly it's 3pm!).

Anywhoose....I was blown back in my chair by Ms. Stitch Bitch Her Very Self's Blog and the last few posts and discussions about art vs. craft and other things. I was immediately riveted, especially since I had to read and then re-read everything about ten times before my silly-assed brain could comprehend it.

Y'all should probably know that at one time I was actually capable of carrying on an adult conversation that included more than my now ever-present "woo hoos" and "anywhooses". I actually read books and wrote papers and understood more than a handful of big words. I could intelligently offer an opinion about something, defend a thesis, and even constuct a proper paragraph without needing the grammar checker thingie on the computer.

What the hell happend to me? My brain is now mush and I seem to be operating on the Kelly Bundy method of life (you know....if a new thing goes into my brain then an old thing needs to come out since there's only so much room in there). I am, in short, dumber than a bag of hammers.

Oh well. I suppose that every village needs an idiot, so.... here I am!

Stitching this weekend was made easy by the use of a floor stand. I haven't been very good about using one, especially since I didn't think it was compatible with the Happy Chair, but it turns out that I can adjust one of the arms to fit me just perfectly! (Why I didn't know this before is beyond me, but I highly recommend that the maker of these stands invests in an instructional video so that stitchers like me don't buy the darn things and then leave them up in their studios with dust on them because they don't know that you can move the arm thigie this way and that so that your needlework project sits in front of you properly and not on your boobs.)

Here's LJP's "Star Spangled Quilt":

I really love the colors Laura used for this...Watercolors "Flame"and "Night Sky". The metallic that I used is Kreinik 1/16th ribbon and I actually used my laying tool and got it nice and flat (gasp with astonishment if you must). I've enjoyed working on this so much that I think I'll keep going until it's finished. Then, if I really get my act together, I'll take it for framing rather than adding it to my too-large "finished, but unfinished" pile.

That's the report from Chez Spinster today, kids. I'm going to go sit down and try to think intelligent thoughts for a bit. This, of course, will mean that a nap will be required before I can even think about finishing the rest of the day.

"I wonder who my Mommie blamed for making her stupid before I came along?"

MS. LAURA J. PERIN HER VERY SELF TO THE RESCUE (AND STEWEY TOO)

I'm not going to bore you with more tales of my ha-rumphing about the house looking for something to stitch, nor am I going to give you every bloody detail of my stitchy ennui (like I normally do). Instead, I will tell you that methinks I'm finally on the right path, thanks to Ms. LJP Her Very Self and my Stewey Little.

There I was, sitting in the Happy Chair (but not so happy). I just couldn't get it out of my head that the July 4th holiday is upon us and I didn't have one darn stitchy thing with which to celebrate it. As I absentmindedly flipped through the eleventy billion TeeVee channels I have(would you be shocked to discover that there wasn't anything on?), my little nine-pound furry dog jumped up into my lap, stared deeply into my eyes and said "Mo-ther, I've just about had enough of this moping around. Either snap out of it or go take a nap. The heavy sighing and pussface is getting a bit old, especially for a woman of your "advanced years". So get up there into that studio and find something to do, or I'll find something for you."

I did manage to clean and organize the place to within an inch of its life, but I still couldn't find anything suitable for my mood. BUT! Just when I had given up hope, Stewey reminded me that I had not checked/read blogs that day and that there were sure to be many many lovely inspirations to be had.

Indeedie there was.....right there on Laura J. Perin's Blog It's Very Self! Woo Hoo! Picture after picture of wonderful projects that I started jonesing for the moment I saw them. So....

Here's one:

And here's another: Cool beans, huh? Now I have something to do for the next three days and I won't have to call Aunt Chrissy every ten minutes to see what she's doing and whether or not she and Bosco want to come over to "hang out". Now I can occupy myself in a fun and productive way and I won't feel one bit guilty about the housecleaning that's not getting done and the laundry that refuses to put itself away. I might even actually enjoy my cookout weenie all the more now that it will come with tons and tons of stitchy time.

So, my dear stitchy reader/blogger friends....I hope that wherever you are this weekend is perfectly splendid and that you get to do whatever your heart desires. For my USA buddies..Happy 4th! Woo Hoo!

OH! P.S. Somebody asked me the other day if I have a favorite memory of a July 4th holiday. I do! I had just moved to New Jersey and was soooooo lonely that I thought I would just die. The 4th fell on a Saturday that year, so I bravely held my own little pathetic cookout (one little hamburger and one little weenie on the grill), and then I took my beach chair down to the beach to watch the fireworks. The first ones came from Atlantic City, which was to my left (I lived in Margate), and after they were over, a new batch started from Ocean City, which was to my right. I think they shot them off from barges out in the ocean, because these gorgeous fireworks exploded right in front of you over the water. It was spectacular. Even better than that, though, was the fact that all of the people that were sitting around me were super nice and decided to take a poor little spinster under their wing for the night and keep her company. The End.

FIXI-TATE-INN

As you can see, I've moved from the VEGGIE-TATE-INN to the FIXI-TATE-INN. The first inn was fine (and very relaxing, I might add), but this new place seems to suit me better. At this inn, I fiddle about up in the studio until 4am, pawing through and re-arranging my stash until the dog tells me it's time to go to bed. I obsess and fixate on my stitching and I start mumbling to myself that I'm finally going to get into some kind of stitchy groove or Aunt Chrissy is going to come over and break my fingers so that I can't stitch at all. (She would never do such a thing, but the threat of it makes me get my proverbial act together.)

It all started when I decided that I would like to pull out all of my "Americana" stitching and set up festive tableau throughout Chez Spinster. Great idea, right? Well, my great idea was smacked in the forehead when I discovered that this is my entire "Americana" stitchy collection:

Holey Schmoley....how pitiful is this? One lousy little piece of stitching to celebrate the gool ol' U.S. of A. AND! If you look closely, you'll see that this piece was done on 14ct Aida cloth with all DMC threads and THEN it's shamelessly stuck into a $2 Hobby Lobby frame. Good grief! I didn't even iron it first!

I am thoroughly disgusted with myself at this moment and am hanging my head in shame. So if you will excuse me, I am going to go up into the studio to find some things that I might work on to rectify this situation once and for all.

Note to self: Yes, it would be a FABULOUS idea to stitch according to a theme each month, but a) you have to decide on the themes, b) you have to make sure that you have enough stuff to fit within the theme and then c) YOU HAVE TO ACTUALLY STITCH THE STUFF AND NOT GET ALL DISTRACTED AND ACT LIKE A 700 POUND HUMMINGBIRD!

SPINSTER VS. DOG (THE DOG WON)

We begin our story in a lonely little spinster's house somewhere in the Midwestern United States. A little dog enters the room and immediately notices a ball hiding under the chair.Meanwhile, the Spinster gazes at the computer, sighing at all of the lovely work her fellow stitchy bloggy buddies have accomplished. The dialogue begins:

DOG: Mommie! I want to play ball! Right now, Mommie!
SPINSTER: No, Stewey. Mommie is reading her stitchy blogs.
DOG: Ball, Mommie, ball!
SPINSTER: Stewey! I told you! I am reading all of these stitchy blogs. Don't you know how surly I get if I don't get a chance to see everything that's going on in the stitchy bloggy universe?
DOG: You're always surly anyway, Mommie. Ball!
SPINSTER: I resent that accusation, Stewey. I think I'm perfectly pleasant and very easy to be around and if you don't get out from under that chair this very instant, I'm going to send you to your room.
DOG: There are so many things wrong with your statement that I don't even know where to begin. 1) You are NOT pleasant. As a matter of fact, I would say that you are decidedly one of the most UNpleasant people I've ever met. 2) As far as being around you....please realize that I am contractually obligated to do so and that if I had my druthers I'd move in with my Aunt Chrissy and that little snot, Bosco. 3) Finally, Mommie, you have never sent me to my room in all the time I have lived here because you know as well as I do that you are completely incapable of adhering to any type of consistent discipline. This, of course, would account for my total lack of respect for your silly "house rules" and my utter disdain for that idle threat of sending me to obedience school.
SPINSTER: Oh yeah? Well I'm bigger than you are.
DOG: What are you, seven years old? Are you THAT incapable of formulating a decent response to my allegation of sheer incompetency in the Mommie department? Are you THAT unable to come up with a retort that would NOT be used on an elementary school playground?
SPINSTER: (a long silence ensues)
DOG: I see that you have no witty comeback for that one, so may I just say BALL MOMMIE! RIGHT NOW! BALL!

The Spinster finds her shoes and walks slowly to the back door, head hanging in humiliation. She mentally calculates the amount of her grocery budget that would be need to be re-allocated to cover the cost of day care and decides that eating macaroni and cheese from the box six times a week might actually be preferable to putting up with this little s***.

The sun shines brightly and the breeze gently ruffles the tree leaves and the Spinster and her little dog play ball in the back yard. All is well in Hoosierville once again.

THE END

CONFESSION

I've developed a new Monday morning habit. Rather than getting down in the dumps because I accomplished/did/created/stitched absolutely nothing over the weekend, I decided that I would log on to all of your stitchy blogs and then.....pretend that I had your weekend!

So let's see what I did, shall we?

Well, I did a LOT of housecleaning and re-arranging of furniture. I scrubbed floors, made lovely curtains, and re-upholstered a sofa or two. My windows are washed, my closets are all organized, and each and every houseplant has been lovingly watered and fed.

I weeded, watered and fed all of the outside gardens, planted a few new trees, built some lovely new raised flower beds and cut bundles of lovely blooms for inside arrangements.

I shopped at tag sales, garage sales, Michael's, Borders, the Farmers' Market, and the local pet refuge center. I also went to the grocery, bank, post office, dry cleaners, and the Goodwill donation drop-off center.

I made banana bread, strawberry jam, a wonderful grilled chicken dish, and a vegetable taitan.

I made and sent about sixty-three stitchy gifts, each perfectly coordinated, lovingly wrapped, and perfectly packed for safe transport to the stitchy friend recipient. I cleaned and organized my studio, re-arranged and better situated my Happy Chair and sharpened all of my scissors. I finished three painted canvases, four counted canvas pieces, and seven cross-stitched projects that had been languishing in my WIP bin. I also taught myself how to make a Temari.

I worked out, ate well, and played fetch with Stewey until the fireflies came out.

I visited my local libraries, museums, festivals, and concerts in the park, and I swam in a lovely local pool.

I learned French.

I read eight novels, two biographies, and six non-fiction books, as well as bought and loaded my new Kindle.

I wrote letters to everybody I know and sent cards and little mementos to everybody in my book that has an upcoming birthday, graduation, special day, or new house and/or job.

I......

OK, it would seem that we're totally off the rails here, but you get the idea of what I'm trying to do. Let me just say this: Y'all are a bunch of very busy and productive individuals! I am exhausted just reading about all of your wonderful adventures and accomplishments. Maybe you should slow it down a little and give a spinster a break, eh?

Here's what I did do this weekend while watching The Dark Knight, Run FatBoy Run, The Nanny Diaries, and Cat People:

VEGGIE TATE INN

It's a good thing I'm not responsible for the overall maintenance of Chez Spinster, because I've spent the better part of a week in the Happy Chair doing absolutely nothing. Each morning I woke up with a very comprehensive list of the tasks that were on hand for the day, but somehow I ended up in the big girl bike shorts and seventeen year old t-shirt with nothing but a nap on the brain.

What can I say? I'm just not a hot and humid kind of girl.

Stewey took the camera outside to gather evidence for our weekly "Mother, this place is going to hell in a handbasket" meeting, and I must say that I was duly impressed with his photographic capabilities. I was told, however, that if I don't get out there bright and early tomorrow morning to do some serious dead-heading and weeding that there will be tiny little puppy paw hell to pay.

First up is a hibiscus that is finally blooming. It's twin has been a little more shy this year, so methinks we need to do some coaxing/watering/threatening this weekend: The front path to the door is getting a little crowded by the lilies on the left and the lavender on the right. I guess it's time to think about clippings for some sachets?

Speaking of those lilies, if the number of buds on this one are any indication of what's to come, methinks I should start making big-ass funeral arrangements. Or prom corsages.

I see he stopped to do a little watering (please disregard the woefully neglected geraniums...I'll fix 'em tomorrow. I promise.):

And finally, it looks like Aunt Chrissy and I just might have farm fresh summer salads after all:

Holey schmoley, I can see that I have a TON of weeding to do. I hope I remember to put sunblock on my dowager's hump, or there is sure to be some sun-burnin' goin' on.

Last evening I did manage to do some stitching while watching the Michael Jackson "He's only been dead for six minutes but we're going to roll this retrospective and talk about the legal consequences of his estate" coverage. I am gobsmacked by the speed at which news travels these days, and how we're not happy unless we're getting the most up to date and latest coverage. Of everything on the planet. I suppose that when I die, I hope that the media give Aunt Chrissy a minute to fix her lipstick before they inundate her with questions about my legacy and the impact my death will have on spinsters everywhere. Sheesh.

(Now before you think I am being disrespectful to Mr. Jackson, please note that I would never deign to to so. His music was the soundtrack of my life from the age of seven until the afternoon I graduated from college. So there.)

(I also don't want to forget the fact that another person in the public eye lost their battle with that bastard-that-must-be-eradicated-if-it's-the-last-thing-we-do disease. Rest in peace, Ms. Fawcett. You gave a very brave face to a very ugly reality, and you reminded us that cancer just sucks.)

But I regress.

Here's Bent Creek's "Big Zipper", as stitched on 32ct. Legacy linen (the idea that was shamelessly stolen from Miss Margie of "Two Cool Pugs and Me" fame): That's the report for today. I've heard that the temps and humidity will be down by Monday, so maybe I'll take that as a sign that my stay here at the VeggieTate Inn is coming to a close.

Damn.

A NOTE FROM MASTER STEWEY ANGUS WILLOWSWAMP HIS VERY LITTLE SELF

My mom can't come to the blog right now. I sent her to her room and told her to think about what a giant beastie she's been the last three days. Once she decides that she can act like a lady and stop stomping about the house in her bike shorts and t-shirt, we'll hear from her. Until then....you're stuck with me.

I don't have many new and exciting things to report, I'm afraid. The weather here in Hoosierville has been very hot and muggy, so the old lady and I try to lay low until it passes. We did make it outside for a few minutes yesterday to sprinkle some water on the garden, but the icks got the better of us and we headed right back into the air conditioning.

Mommie Dearest has not put one stitch in anything for two days now! I suspect that this is the source of her mood, so I am going to head up to the studio to rummage through things for a new project for her. At first I thought it was just a temporary slump, but if she doesn't come out of it today, I might have to call the Authority. (That would be my Aunt Chrissy).

Well, kids, I hope that you are all well and safe and dry wherever you are. I also hope that you are having a better stitchy time of it than 'ole what's her name over here.

Don't worry....she'll be back to rights soon and we'll have pics of her progress. I can just feel it in my tiny little bones!

Ciao!
Stewey

SPITTIN' NAILS

WARNING: This is a rant. If you don't want to read a rant from an angry spinster, then please look away. Regularly scheduled programming will resume momentarily.

I'm as peeved as a spinster can be at the moment. Like the rest of the free world, I somehow got sucked into the whole "John and Kate Plus Eight" mess. Now for those of you who haven't a clue as to what I'm talking about....J&K+8 is a show on the TLC channel about a family that has twin daughters and sextuplets. Tonight they announced to the world that they are divorcing after ten years of marriage, five years of a television series, and six months of tabloid reporting of their torrid affairs with anybody that has crossed their respective paths.

Let me first get a few things clear so that you don't think I speak from a position of authority:

1. I have never been married, so I have no idea of the daily pressures and stresses of sharing your life with another person and/or tripping over his/her socks every other minute.

2. I do not have children, so I do not understand the tremendous responsibility of being in charge of raising someone into a normal, healthy, grown-ass person who manages to stay out of trouble generally. You've met Stewey, so you know how successful I would be in the parenting department.

3. I have never had a reality TeeVee show, even though Stewey is convinced we could make millions and keep him the manner to which he has become accustomed.

4. I have never been followed by paparazzi, unless you count the early morning attempts by my neighbors to gather photographic evidence of me in my robe and duck books retrieving the mail (for the home owner's association board, don't you know).

5. And finally...with few exceptions, I rarely watch reality TeeVee unless it involves somebody hunky doing something that I'm interesting in, like cooking a five-course meal on a deserted island. Without a shirt on.

Having said all of that, please allow me to say with full-throated voice and fist shaking in air: SHAME ON YOU, TLC! SHAME SHAME SHAME ON YOU AND YOUR STUPID PRODUCERS WHO DID NOT HAVE THE DECENCY AND GUTS TO SAY "YOU KNOW WHAT? OUR FRIENDS JOHN AND KATE ARE IN TROUBLE AND WE THINK IT'S UNSEEMLY TO WATCH A MARRIAGE COLLAPSE ON NATIONAL TELEVISION. SO WE'RE GOING TO SUSPEND PRODUCTION OF THE SHOW AND LET THIS FAMILY GET SOME HELP AND GET OUT OF THE SPOTLIGHT FOR A LITTLE WHILE SO THAT THEY CAN SEE IF THEY CAN PULL THIS BACK TOGETHER."

SHAME SHAME SHAME ON YOU, JOHN AND KATE FOR NOT HAVING THE GUTS OR DECENCY TO SAY "SORRY, FOLKS. WE'RE HAVING A REAL ROUGH SPOT AT THE MOMENT AND WE FEEL THAT THE HEALTH AND WELL-BEING OF OUR FAMILY IS WORTH MORE TO US THAN A TELEVISION SHOW. WE'VE DECIDED TO SUSPEND PRODUCTION OF THE SHOW FOR A LITTLE WHILE TO SEE IF WE CAN FIGURE THIS WHOLE THING OUT WITHOUT THE WHITE HOT LIGHTS ON. THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING OUR PRIVACY AND NEED TO BE AWAY FOR A LITTLE WHILE. WE'LL LET YOU KNOW HOW THINGS WORK OUT."

I am disgusted. I am sick to my stomach that I just spent an hour of my life watching a marriage implode. I am sick at the thought of eight children looking at these tapes someday saying "Gee, that's when our parents got divorced on national television, but weren't our crooked houses and constantly matching outfits wonderful?" I'm p***ed that I went against my better judgement and turned this damn thing on tonight instead of reading a book. Or stitching. Or plucking every renegade eyebrow out of my head. I'm mad that I allowed myself to peek over the fence and then scan the tabloid headlines for the next salacious detail. I'm most upset, however, that I now have to take a moral stand and NEVER watch this damn channel again, despite the fact that they have a few shows that I find interesting. (I'll wait for the DVD's to come out, thank you very much, and I will not pay one damn dime for them, but will borrow them from the library like a person should).

I think what saddens me more than anything is the fact that our entertainment options have devolved to this level. Aunt Chrissy and I were talking about TeeVee shows the other day and we decided that there have been very very few truly original, well-written, well-acted shows out there. We've got cop stories, courtroom dramas, hospital soaps, and reality garbage coming out the ying yang, but when you want to see something that transports you or just takes your mind off of life for a lousy twenty-two minutes, you're completely screwed.

WHY???!!! Why did I have to think that something good would come out of that mess? Why do I constantly hope for the rosy outcome of something that I know to be beyond repair? Why did I think that the "IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT" would be that these stupid people on this stupid network had come to their stupid senses and had decided that their stupid reality was more important than the stupid public's access to it?

I'm not a drinkin' woman, but tonight I'm headed for the wine rack. It's either that or the Krispy Kreme drive through, and at this time of night I'm sure the resulting heartburn from the doughnuts would be worse than the potential hangover from a glass of vino.

So excuse me, fair readers, and thank you for allowing me to get this off of my heaving chest. I hope that I haven't offended anybody and that you'll come back to visit me soon. In the meantime...give the dog the remote and go pour yourselves a cocktail.

EDITED TO ADD: Now just so y'all don't think me chicken...here's what I've just left on the TLC Viewer Relations site (and no, it wan't AFTER the cork was removed from the bottle, but before):

Gentlemen: Please allow me to ask (respectfully, of course)..what the hell were you thinking? I've just watched the IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT on John and Kate Plus 8, and I hoped against hope that it would be that you decided to suspend production so that this family could regroup, get some help and see if they could get it together. Instead, we got to watch a marriage implode. Informative? Learning opportunity? Useful? Nope. Just salacious garbage that is not worthy of my time. Shame on you folks. Methinks you have many many apologies to make for exploiting this mess. (And yes, John and Kate are equally to blame.) I certainly expeced more from you. Sorry, but I won't be watching you or your sister channels in the future.

MR. RING, PAGING MR. RING

As in Bo. Bo Ring.

I'm as bored as a spinster can be with her stitchy things. I am flitting from piece to piece and getting frustrated that I can't seem to spend more than ten minutes with something before I'm headed to the big girl sleigh bed for a nap. What's up with that?

On Friday I baby sat for my nephew puppy tot Bosco. We were supposed to have heavy storms, so I headed over to get the little guy so he wouldn't be by himself. He doesn't do well with storms, whereas Stewey is oblivious. I'd love to tell you that we had a splendid time, but methinks Bosco has had enough of Stewey's bitchy attitude....he was a little pill all day long. At about 3pm, I felt the need to call Aunt Chrissy at work to rat him out, and I can tell you that she was NOT amused. (It might have had something to do with me pretending to be Mrs. Pelachewski of the Puppy Paws Day Care Center, but I can't be sure.) Anywhoose, stitching on Friday was reduced to me sitting up in the studio staring into basket after basket wondering what the heck my stitchy problem was.

I selected a painted canvas from Cooper Oaks and put some stitches in before falling asleep with needle in hand. I played with it a little more on Saturday, but decided to put it down for a little while to watch the TeeVee:
Yesterday, I planted my heiney in the Happy Chair and decided to catch up on my NetFlix rents, so I pulled out the Big Zipper and did this while watching a movie with John Travolta and James Gandolfini:

The title of the movie was "Lonely Hearts" and it was a detective drama set in 1940's New York. I must say that it was rather disturbing to this lonely old spinster. Maybe I should read the plot summaries of these movies instead of just picking them for the hunky actors? I also watched "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button", but will confess that I had to stop for a nap in the middle.

Maybe it's a vitamin deficiency?

Even Stewey is bored to tears. He had hoped to go to Art Camp this year, but I didn't get the registration filled out in time. Besides, outfitting him with a proper summer wardrobe that would meet with his high expectations would have drastically cut into my stitchy budget. Bad Mommie.

So we'll try again today to see what progress we can make on the stitchy front. I'm really going to try not to catch a bad case of Startitis and concentrate instead on all of the stuff languishing away...desperate for just a few more stitches closer to a finish line.

HERE SHE GOES AGAIN...

I managed to tear myself away from Anthony Bourdain long enough to get a few stitches in last night. "Jaws" was on the TeeVee, so I picked up "The Big Zipper" to see if I might make a little progress on that tree down in the corner (why there is a connection between "Jaws" and "The Big Zipper" completely escapes me, but by now you're used to the fact that I am just a little "different" when it comes to the thinking department: Unfortunately, I seem to have the attention span of a hummingbird lately, so within about 10 minutes I was bored (the shark had only eaten two people by then).

I then did what any rational Laura J. Perin fan would do. I smacked myself on the forehead and said "DOH! I spent all that time stitching the borders of the "Lily of the Valley Collage" and then I put it down! The borders are the hardest part! Now that the borders are stitched, the insides of the boxes are a blast to stitch and will keep my attention!" Up to the studio (pant pant pant on the stairs), paw through my LJP basket, back downstairs and into the Happy Chair, and we have this: And yes, I have already decided that I will find a beautiful silk stem of lily of the valley to adorn the center of this so that it will match the Daisy Collage piece that I did a while back. Are you detecting a theme here? (If you were totally horrified by that daisy, by the way, I promise to give you fair warning when I post the finish pic of this one with a silk flower sewed to the canvas).

I find it fascinating that my brain requires me to flit from one thing to another when it comes to this stitchy thing of ours. I suppose that it indicates a total lack of discipline, but this fact does not surprise me in the least little bit. I do not posses one ounce of discipline when it comes to ANYTHING in my stupid little life, so why should I expect to have any when it comes to stitching?

I've tried the rotation thing. I've tried setting goals for myself. I've even tried threatening myself with physical bodily harm if I don't have at least one finish in a respectable amount of time.

But it never works.

When my heiney hits the Happy Chair in the evening, I invariably reach for a project that will fit my "mood". I use "mood" loosely, because I am so blah blah blah lately that I don't think I really have a "mood" (unless blah blah blah just happens to be one). So every now and then I look over at whatever happens to be on the TeeVee tray and say "Blech. I want something different." And then it's off the the studio I go in search of the perfect antidote for stitchy ennui.

(This would be the point where anybody who commands the English language has had enough of my ridiculous hacking and clicks off, but for those of you who "get" my blathering, I shall continue).

So mood stitching seems to be my modus operandi these days and I am rather happy with the decision to just fly by the seat of my big girl underpants. Stitching is supposed to be my relaxing hobby and creative outlet, after all, so why make it stressful work?

Now having said that, you can bet that I will be upstairs today re-thinking my entire stitchy universe situation, and I'll probably fret the day away over the perfect method by which one stores one's variegated threads. (This falls into the old dog/new tricks category).

Besides, it's been quite some time since I re-arranged the deck chairs on my stitchy Titanic, and I feel the need to re-create the wheel for a few hours today. I'll let you know if I stumble upon anything earth-shattering, but I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you. Chances are everything will end up in exactly the same place it was when I started this crazy-ass obsession six years ago.

Oh well. At least I'm consistent.

IT'S A GOOD THING STEWEY'S IN CHARGE

My mom can't come to the blog right now. She's too busy running around the house like a crazy person chanting "Books, books everywhere and not a one to read" (or something to that effect). She's also miffed because I've taken away her debit card until she can promise to use better control when in a book store or, God forbid, a needlework shop. She may, however, go completely hog wild when in PetSmart.

It all started when she disappeared last night to the local Borders. The store is less than a mile from the house, so she figured if she got into too much trouble and had to be rescued, I could be there in a few minutes. Apparently she was looking for a big fat book to read for the summer, but she ended up coming home with these instead: As you might be able to see from the titles, she was hungry while she browsed. I thought this only applied to grocery stores, but let me be the first to tell you: never shop for books when you're hungry. The top three books are foodie books, and I found out that she would have come home with all three Ruth Reichl's, but the store didn't have them in stock. So it looks like we're going to have to make due with Gordon Ramsey, Anthony Bordain, and Julie Powell for now. (Mom has been in a tizzy over the upcoming movie about Julia Childs ever since she saw a preview for it, so I suppose she decided to read the book first to keep her from peeing herself in anticipation.)

My favorite author, Garrison Keillor is on the bottom of the pile (well, he's not, but his book is), so I hope that's not an indication of when she intends to get to it. Mom is nice enough to read to me at night night time so I suppose that I shall have to wait to see when we can go to Lake Woebegone once again.

I thought I would share a few pics of some of the other places the old lady has used to park all of her books. Now before you call the authorities, you should probably know that most of these books have been collected over her long-ass lifetime. You see, mom doesn't lend books out because of the line in "Out of Africa". Lemme see if I can re-create it for you:

MS (this would be Merrill Streep, don't you know): Oh, you've caught me snooping.
B (this is Barkley): It's OK, it's not my room. It's Denis's room and Denis won't mind.
MS: He has lovely books. Does he lend them?
B: We had a friend once...Hopworth. Denis lent him some books and he didn't return them. I said to Denis, "You're not going to lose a friend over some silly books, are you?" and Denis replied "No, but he has".

(Cue applause).

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen! That was the Stewey Players with a scene from the Oscar award winning hit "Out of Africa".

(Oh, sorry...I digress.)

Anywhoose, my point is that our house will eventually fall in upon itself due to the weight of all of these books. Mom thinks it will be her stitching stash that will do us in, but according to my very careful and scientific calculations, I am sure it will be the books.

There are books in the bedroom:


There are books in the dining room (the wine is mine, by the way...my special wine cellar is on back order): And there are books hidden in the office: You've already seen the books in the living room, so I won't bore you with a reprise of that mess. Suffice it to say I've got a TON of reading to do!

Mom didn't stitch last night, but she promised me we will get back to the "Big Zipper" project this afternoon. I keep reminding her that she hasn't touched her WIP basket in quite some time, but she seems oblivious to the need to get these things finished. I heard her tell a lady once that it's bad luck to have ALL of your projects finished because of the whole Charles Shultz thing (*), so I guess she's trying to keep her karma on the plus side of things.

That's my report for today, kids. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to tuck into my perch with a good book or two and see if I can't do something to raise the level of intelligent discourse around here today.

Thanks for stopping by!

Love,

Stewey

*The Charles Shultz thing: On the night before his final Peanuts strip appeared, Charles Shultz went into his studio, put away his drawing things and said "Well, that's it now". And then he went to bed and passed away. My mom took this as a lesson to always have something pending that will cause you to have to get up in the morning.

BIG FAT SUMMER BOOK

When I was a kid (ten minutes ago, don't you know), I had my face in a book 24/7. We had porch swings and I took full advantage of them each summer -- whether it was with a big fat book or a skinny book that was part of a series, I read greedily and with great gusto. I can remember how it felt to lose an entire afternoon in a book, and I can remember how satisfied I felt when the back cover closed and I was on to my next adventure.

Then, when I lived in New Jersey, I had a little tiny apartment on the beach. Really little. As a matter of fact, it was slightly smaller than your average hotel room, and my bed was the futon that also served as a couch during the day. What I loved about this apartment was its proximity to a huge patio overlooking the ocean and the hours and hours I spent there reading.

Summer is a particularly good time for a big fat book, don't you think? Or, better yet, it seems to be the perfect time to collect every single book in a series or by a favorite author and read them through. Sometimes I want the book to be a classic (like the year I finally read War and Peace), and other times I just want to spend a day with Jackie Collins. One summer I read a trilogy by the romance author Kathleen E. Woodiwiss. I'm pretty sure that it was complete trash, but I loved every bodice-ripping, bosom-heaving minute of it.

Thanks to a handful of Borders coupons, today I embark on a quest. I go in search of a pile of the perfect summer big fat books to read. I haven't a clue what will wind up in the basket, but I know I can't wait to get started.