WELL, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT?

So there I was, minding my own business, when I decided to start something in the cross stitch department. I've always loved designs by The Drawn Thread, and after much futzing about, I decided to start Moonlight Garden. I had visions of this one stitched and framed next to the dining room window that looks out on my own little garden, but alas, it was not to be. After about two hours of squinting through my reading glasses, I decided that this would have to be a project for another day. Apparently, my eyes have decided that they would prefer a little more canvas work at this juncture, so I happily obliged.

This is from the WIP pile...it's Laura J. Perin's Lily of the Valley Collage. I think I might push on through with this one until it's completed. (How many times have you heard me say THAT before?) It's just lovely, and I even have the silk flower to apply to the middle portion of the canvas. (If you recall, I got a wild hair and decided that I would fixatate silk flowers onto the middle of these flower collages, so we're now two for two.) (The first one was the daisy. Remember?)

Storms have ceased momentarily here in Hoosierville, and this week is quite lovely to behold, but I hear we're in for some more stickymess by the weekend. Swell. Just in time for me to slap on the big girl bike shorts and fire up the barbeque grill for the Official Stitchin' Spinster Sisters Stars and Stripes Celebration. Oh well, maybe Aunt Chrissy and I will suffer through some microwaved wienies instead.

Back to the Happy Chair! Woo Hoo!

FUTZ FUTZ FUTZ FUTZ FUTZ

I have been futzing with this canvas for about a ga-zillion years now, and I just can't seem to get the hearts and the left part of the "V" right. I am thrilled with what I did on the other letters, but for some reason I just can't get it to work on the other various and sundry parts. Phooey.

Methinks it's time for it to go back into the basket and for me to futz about looking for a new piece to play with. Maybe I'll look in one of my notebooks and pull out an old WIP? Maybe I'll start a new cross stitch piece? Maybe I'll finally start to stitch all of the LHN Christmas ornaments that keep coming in the mail and piling up in a big pile that makes me sad that I can't seem to finish anything and I just know that when Christmas rolls around I'm going to spend at least a week and a half bitching that I didn't stitch any Christmas ornaments but then again when have I ever stitched Christmas ornaments anyway and why do I insist on putting so much pressure on myself when it comes to stitching but I can't seem to be bothered to stress out at all over the garbage that I shove in my big fat face.....

(pant pant pant pant)

That's the way my brain is working today. Once again I am the 300-pound hummingbird flitting from place to place without one single idea about how to get something done.

Oh well. Makes for pretty interesting stream of consciousness, if I do say so myself.

Thank God Stewey can't hear it, though, or I'd be on my way to the assisted living facility so fast it would make my head spin. Woo Hoo!

THE SPINSTER IS IN

Ah, home sweet home. Aunt Chrissy and I have returned from Pennsylvania safe and sound and I am happy to report that all is well in the kingdom once again. Thank you all very much for your lovely notes and thoughts and prayers. We all appreciate them very much. I believe that someone asked me where we were in PA....we were in Butler, which is north of Pittsburgh. (My dad's family is in that area...Butler and New Kensington, to be exact.)

Anywhoose, I suppose that it's a good thing that we were so oblivious to all of the weather here in Hoosierville, since it looks like they had some very severe storms that came through and left messes all over the darn place. I was blissfully unaware, but when I read Nanny's report, she said that both Bosco and Stewey fared well during the crisis and are none the worse for wear.

So life goes back to as normal as it can be in a house with a crazy spinster and her little dog, and all we have to worry about now is what to have for dinner. (I'm leaning toward a grilled chicken salad, but we'll see how long that particular craving lasts. Lately, Aunt Chrissy and I have been wearing a path to the door of the local sushi joint, and I've managed to find everything on the menu that I can eat.) (The spinster doesn't do raw, don't you know.)

Stewey was thrilled to see his Mommie Dearest once again, and was very proud that he got a good report on his behavior and general demeanor during my absence. We did have some "tinkle" issues while I was gone, but thanks to a few well-placed puppy pads, nothing suffered any permanent damage. I have been instructed, though, to finally have THE TALK with the lovely Dr. Nieman about Stewey's propensity to mark everything within a six mile radius of where I'm standing, so we'll see how that goes. Aunt Chrissy was very gentle about it, I must say, but I got the message loud and clear....no more help washing baseboards and drapes. Time for me to re-establish myself as the alpha once and for all. (Hey, what the heck else were we going to talk about for twelve hours in a car together?)

Since I'm pretty sure that you didn't come here to hear me blather on about road trips and my incontinent dog, I'll share my happy happy joy joy over finishing Strawberry Shortcake:

Isn't is wonderful? Doesn't it make you want to run out and pick a big basket full of strawberries and then sit right down on the warm summer grass and eat every last once of them until your fingers get all stained and sticky? I cannot stop saying how much I loved stitching this....it was a wonderful piece from beginning to end and I really was sorry to see it end.

Speaking of....yes, I was glued to the TeeVee during the last and final and tragic conclusion of The Tudors. And yes, I had a headache from bawling my eyes out for about three days. Now I just need to wait for the whole thing to be released onto the disc thingies so that I can re-watch every single episode over and over and over again until some other show worms its way into my little brain and captures my obsessive compulsive need to do something until death.

I didn't do any stitching at all while away, but I am determined to plant myself in the Happy Chair for a few hours tonight. I am either going to start the Shepherd's Bush Come Tarry, or Laura J. Perin's Magnolia Collage, or this:Doesn't this make you want to throw your skirt up and shout "WOO HOO!"? This is a painted canvas by Melissa Shirley, with fibers, beads, and stitch guide selected by the very fabulous Ruth Schmuff of Beadecked and Bedazzled fame. I purchased it during a recent truck show at the shop, and am really looking forward to jumping right into this one.

The garden continues to thrive. I would show you the vegetables, but I think there was a bug out there earlier, so I decided not to tempt fate with the camera, and just shot a few pics of Stewey's daisy and the lettuces instead:

Thanks for stopping by today! Stewey sends his heartfelt love and affection to you all and promises to write very very soon. (At least as soon as the ennui of an early summer afternoon fades.)

Have a lovely weekend and do whatever it is that you most want to do!

SEE YOU NEXT WEEK

Hi kids. Please talk amongst yourselves for a week or so. Aunt Chrissy and I are headed to Pittsburgh for a funeral, so I won't be posting for a few days.

(And no, Stewey is not allowed to use the computer while in the care of Nanny, so you'll have to tattle in the event that he escapes her supervision.)

Ciao, bellas.
Coni

THE BETTER TO SEE YOU WITH, MY DEAR

My mom can't come to the blog right now. She's too busy prancing about the house with her fancypants eyeglasses on her face. This in itself wouldn't be so much of a problem were it not for the fact that she has decided to wear ALL THREE pairs of said fancypants eyeglasses at once. Um, can you say....."MOMMIE DEAREST IS A BIG DOOFUS?"

I've also discovered that my stupid mo-ther and my Aunt Chrissy are crazy nuts for some restaurant here in Hoosierville that serves raw fish. Blech. What in the hell anybody would want with raw fish is beyond me, but these two have visited that place three times this week. (And it's only Thursday!) Mom doesn't even LIKE raw fish, but off she goes with Aunt Chrissy with the idea in her head that she is going to look really really cool eating with chopsticks. (She doesn't, but that somehow doesn't deter her very much.) (Please see: "DOOFUS" above.)

As for me, I am headed to my perch to watch a few movies. I've taped Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and I intend to watch it with the same rapt attention that my mo-ther gives it every single time it's on the TeeVee. I'm pretty sure that it is actually a children's movie, but she seems to really like it. No judgement, but I would imagine that she likes it because it's just about enough for her pea sized intellect to handle in one sitting. After that, I think I'm going to catch Vickie Christina Barcelona again, since the first time I watched, it was constantly interrupted by Mo-ther making kissy noises at the screen and then rewinding it over and over and over again. Woody Allen would be furious, and I intend to screen it the way he intended....in my little silk smoking jacket with some small plate appetizers and a nice sherry for company.

When Mom stops acting like such a freakin' goofball, I'll make sure that she plants herself in the Happy Chair and stitches. She's very very close to finally finishing Strawberry Shortcake, so I think I will push her along until this one is finally headed for the finisher. I asked her if we might make it into a pillow for the bed, but she said that she was thinking purse. Stay tuned.

Here's a few pics of the fancypants glasses. If you'd like to get an idea of what they look like on Mom's actual face, just imagine a very sweaty bowling ball and you're all set. (Just don't forget the pony tail hair-do.)

Good Lord, do you think that woman could look in a mirror once in a while? If her 1984-ish bangs get any higher, I'm going to have to break out the jelly bracelets and denim mini, and NOBODY needs to see that. When I said "Mo-ther, your look is SO 1980's, she just glared at me and said "Stewey, dearest, your Mommie was actually good-looking in 1980, so leave it alone, will ya'?"

I saw the pictures, and there was absolutely nothing good-looking about them. (You must trust me about this.)

Cheerio and all that.

With love from your pal,
Stewey

Look how freakin' close she is to finishing this! Wouldn't you just sit right down and get it done already? Do you think my mom could have that kind of discipline? Noooooooo.

These are the sunglasses that Aunt Chrissy thought looked best. I can only imagine what the other ones looked like!

PURPLE! Who the heck needs PURPLE eyeglasses?!

These you've seen, but I thought I would include them here for accuracy. I ask you...who the heck needs TWO PAIRS of fancypants glasses when the only people that are going to see them are me and the poor unsuspecting neighbors that happen to be outside when Mo-ther decides to go out in her seventeen year old night clothes to get the paper in the morning? Who?

IT'S ALIVE!! IT'S ALIVE!!

As God is my witness, nature is going to be the very death of me.

Last evening, Stewey bolted out the back door and headed to our neighbor's back patio Mach5 and with his little hairs on fire. This isn't a very big deal, really, but my lovely neighbors were sitting on said patio enjoying the evening breeze and I was NOT dressed for public consumption. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure that my outfit violated almost every single decency statute on the books here in Mishawaka Hoosierville, so I await the impending court date with breath that is bated. (My neighbors should receive the muffins and flowers any time now and will almost certainly appreciate my selection of the "I'm so sorry you had to see my big fat nekkid heiney hanging out of my eighty year old sweatpants that no longer have a seat and the matching stained and mutilated tee-shirt that presented my bra-less boobs quite nicely, if I do say so myself" basket.) I have GOT to get some new loungewear.

So anywhoose...as I was standing there in the yard trying not to turn my back to them (which made for a pretty funny looking exit), they told me that they had awakened to a rather gruesome scene on their front porch that morning. And, upon further investigation, they figured that a neighborhood dog or cat had gotten hold of several chipmunks and summarily dismembered them. Apparently, since these people are real live grown ups and are NOT freaked out by every little moment of wild nature sightings, they knew by looking at all of the guts and fur and stuff that the dead critters were, in fact, chipmunks and NOT our beloved baby bunny.

Then this morning when I awoke, I spotted the real live actual baby bunny frolicking out on the front yard with his Mommie in tow and I felt much better about the world in general. So I did what any rational person would do. I marched into the bedroom, snatched the sleeping mask from his little head and hollered "STEWEY! MOMMIE DIDN'T COMMIT BUNNY-CIDE AFTER ALL! IT IS ALIVE! IT IS ALIVE!"

Given his general tizzy fit yesterday and the resulting washing of the drapes, you would think that he would have immediately jumped up, given me a big fat kiss, and then made a lovely little iced cap to start the day.

Nope. He glared at me out of one eye, tooted loudly, and rolled over and stuck his head back under the covers.

Damn dog.

I'm on the very last block of Strawberry Shortcake and hope to have a Happy Dance pic for you soon. I am thinking about adding a border to this because I'm loving looking at it so much, but as I was brushing teeth this morning (Stewey's...not mine), I got the sudden urge to start Shepherd's Buch Come Tarry. Oh what is a spinster to do?

Stay tuned...

THE CIRCLE OF FREAKIN' LIFE

Well this was certainly NOT the Monday morning that I had planned. When I put my big fat head on my pillow last night, I envisioned a day full of stitching and book reading and general putzing about as I took advantage of a stormy summer day.

Phooey on that.

As I opened all of the blinds this morning and made my way towards the front door to turn off the porch light, I noticed that Stewey was rather transfixed by something on the welcome mat. He seemed to be disgusted and sad all at the same time, so as I bent over to soothe his little head and see what he was so concerned about I saw what can only be described as a very very bad way to start a day.

Yup.

Baby bunny.

Dead.

I won't go into all of the specifics, but I presume that a neighborhood cat got to him. All I know is that as I recoiled in horror, Stewey turned and looked up at me with those big brown eyes and said "You're a moron, mo-ther. That little baby bunny didn't stand a freakin' chance, and rather than take it to a proper bunny facility, you let it go back out into the wild where some huge, monstrous creature chased it and then left it for dead right here at the very spot at which it sought shelter. Bad Mommie. Bad, bad Mommie."

He then stomped off to his fort, where he remains to this moment. I would imagine that he is secretly plotting my demise and that I should probably learn to sleep with one eye open.

In any event, after a call to Aunt Chrissy (who was of NO help whatsoever, may I just point out*), I called the landscaping company and asked if they had any crew guys over here today perchance, and could they please come help a spinster in distress.

Ten minutes later, a guy with a shovel showed up and that was the end of that.

I have been plugging away on Strawberry Shortcake and hope that I might actually finish it very soon. I would have accomplished more, but I had to give Henry my full attention last night since he's nearing that final stretch. (Oh, sorry. I forget that not everybody on the planet is riveted to every word I've ever written on this here blog....Henry is Henry VIII in "The Tudors", which is a show on Showtime that I have been watching /obsessing over ever since Aunt Chrissy and I finished "The West Wing" and were bored and looking for something else to watch/obsess over. Next Sunday is the very last episode of the whole entire series, so I am naturally a little sad to see that my whole watching/obsessing over routine will come to and end very shortly.)

How's THAT for a run-on sentence!

So here's a pic of the stitching:

Wherever you are is where I hope you want to be today...

*Now I know that you're probably thinking "Why the heck did she call her sister about road-kill on her front patio at o'dark hundred on a Monday morning? What exactly did she expect poor Aunt Chrissy to do?" And yes, I suppose that if I were a somewhat rational and/or considerate human being I would agree with you, but the fact of the matter is, sometimes you just need to be able to call a fellow spinster and start off a conversation with "I've got a problem" just so that you can see what said fellow spinster will come up with as a solution. Although sad and sympathetic, Aunt Chrissy's advise involved getting the big broom and just "taking care of it". And yes, I'm pretty sure that she's STILL mumbling to herself over what a complete jackass I am that I am still incapable of living life without an instruction manual.

I SMELL POP TARTS

My mom can't come to the blog right now. She's outside with a piece of broccoli and one of my old baby blankets trying to be Jane Goodall. We awoke this morning to discover that an itty bitty tiny little baby bunny had made its way up onto the front porch and seemed to be in desperate need of help finding its mommy.

(I felt that we should have just given the little squirt a bus ticket and a pack of smokes, but my dumb-ass mom felt that it was her spiritual responsibility to find a female rabbit in the neighborhood that would agree to raise the thing in the manner to which all little creatures around here have become accustomed.) Ahem.

One more block is complete on Strawberry Shortcake, and methinks that old lady will finish this by the end of the weekend. That will make for a whopping 10 finishes so far this year. (At this pace, I think she's on track for breaking the all time lowest number of finishes in any one given year thus-ly done by a spinster, so I'm chilling the bubbly as we speak.)

Nothing else new to report. I'm keeping myself busy with sun-sleeping and drape-peeing. Mom has taken to wrapping all of the furniture in puppy pads (which I find very unseemly, by the way), but she's also threatened to take the cleaning fees out of my allowance, so I'm learning to live with them.

I do hope that you are enjoying your summertime and are considerably more productive than Mommie Dearest over here. Enjoy something cool and sparkly today and know that I forever remain....

Your loving pal,
Stewey

"I smell PopTarts! Is somebody eating a PopTart? Is it a cinnamon PopTart? Are you ever going to look down here and see that I need to have a Pop Tart? Give it to me! Please! I need to have a Pop Tart! Now, Mommie, now!

IT'S A BIRD! IT'S A PLANE! IT'S A SPINSTER FLYING BY ON HER BROOMSTICK!

Where in the holy h-e-double toothpicks is the year going? I seem to be stuck somewhere back in February, planning all of the stuff I need/want to do once the weather warms up. And now, here it is June, and I've yet to accomplish one single solitary thing.

Damn, drat, and phooey.

I reflect upon my childhood...those innocent days of youth spent on the back porch swings reading books and smelling the fresh cut grass. Every summer was an adventure in how many books I could read, or movies I could see, or bike rides I could take, or sunburns I could suffer through. (I mean...come on...is there ANY better feeling than slipping into cool and freshly laundered sheets after an entire day in the swimming pool? That feeling of complete and total ahhhhh. Your hair was freshly washed and you had your new summertime pajamas on and Mom and Dad were downstairs watching the 11:00 news. ) Bliss. Just pure bliss.

Now, I'm lucky if the bottom sheet will stay on the damn bed (elastic issues, don't you know), I haven't had new summertime pajamas in at least seventeen and a half years, and instead of listening to Mom and Dad watching the news, I listen to a nine-pound bundle of love dressed up as a Jack Russell terrier bitch and complain about the state of affairs here in Chez Spinster until I finally get up and go sleep in the guest room. (Damn dog.)

So, as you can see, I am extremely frustrated by my utter lack of productivity in the reading/summertime enjoying/stitching/cooking/loving life category right about now. My days are rushing past me in a blur of dog hair and laundry piles, and all I want to do is stop and smell the lemonade. Or bar-be-que chicken. Or Hawaiian Tropic suntan oil. I want to assemble a pile of novels, a basket full of stitching projects, and a fridge full of potato salad. I want to wake up when the birds start chirping and go to bed when the last street light comes on. I want to listen to a baseball game on a radio and drive to a beach and wear flip flops and look at people in bathing suits and remember when I wore less than full body armour in public. I want to have a summer fling. A summer haircut. A summer pedicure. Anything to get me away from the feeling that before I know it the leaves will be changing color and I'll be scurrying around obsessing about Christmas decorations.

Anybody out there have a sure-fire method for stopping the clock for a few days? If so, let me know as soon as you possibly can, and we'll save what's left of the summer.

I'm two and a half blocks away from completing Strawberry Shortcake. I did manage to get a few hours in last night while watching some re-runs of crap I'd recorded on the DVR thingie. I am still totally loving this and am starting to think about possible finishes for it. A funky pillow? A gorgeous frame with a triple beveled mat? A purse? I'm not sure just yet, but whatever it is will be enjoyed for a long time to come, I'm sure.

I briefly ran through some blogs the other day and lo and behold, my VBSDF Laura J. Perin has done it to me again. Have you seen her latest....Daisy Chain? Damn, but that is the coolest! Aunt Chrissy and I are already plotting as to how we will stitch and finish this one. Take a look: http://www.two-handedstitcher.blogspot.com. And while you're there....peek into her lovely new home and see all of her stitchy stations. Now if only I new her exact address so that I could move in....

Stewey calls. He's been marching about the house today pointing out all of the places where he's peed in the last few days. Apparently, it's his new way of determining whether or not I'm keeping up with my chores. He figures that I'll see the microscopic drops of dog pee on the dog pee colored hardwood floors and that I'll attend to them immediately. (Note to self: Decision to stain the floors "Natural Red Oak" when building the house seemed fine at the time, but color is now too reminiscent of said dog pee and must be changed. "Natural Walnut" perhaps?) So...it looks like it's time for a bucket of hot soapy water and Mommie Dearest on Pee Patrol.

Whatever you're doing today, I certainly hope it's more fun!

HOW WAS THE BROCCOLI SALAD, MISTER BUNNY RABBIT, OR WHY MY DAMN DOG WILL NEVER EARN A MERIT BADGE FOR HIS HUNTING ABILITIES

Hey Aunt Chrissy! Notice anything amiss in the above photo?

So there I was...coffee cup in hand, checking out the back 40. Stewey was finding the exact blade of grass on which to have his morning constitutional, when I became transfixed by the vegetable garden.

"Something's not right here", I mused as I slurped my caffeinated goodness. "I could swear there were more things in this damn garden. Didn't Aunt Chrissy plant anything other than tomatoes, cucumbers, and peppers?"

It was about that time that I turned to my left and noticed a lovely little brown bunny rabbit pushing a tiny little shopping cart full of broccoli.

Yup. Stewey gets NO claim to fame as a steadfast hunter around these parts. As a matter of fact, it wouldn't surprise me if he didn't circulate a flier through the neighborhood bunny hutches announcing that broccoli was on sale this week. (*)

Damn dog.

No stitching last night. Aunt Chrissy and I went to the fancypants eyeglass boutique to pick out a new pair of specs for yours truly. My current fancypants eyeglasses have been a little problematic, so the fabulous chicklets that own the place told me to come in to find something brand spanky and new. So in about two weeks I'll be sporting some chic' purple glasses that will probably make people wonder exactly when the midlife crisis came upon me.

After a little stop at the Outback for some sustenance, we took a lovely drive up to Diamond Lake to see the latest project that Aunt Chrissy has been working on. Without gushing too terribly much, I can tell you that I am completely awe struck that my dopey little sister has the smarts and experience to manage the construction of something that will eventually appear in Architectural Digest. Stunning. Just freaking stunning, Aunt Chrissy. You should be very very proud. God knows I am.

So we're off again like the proverbial herd of turtles. Once I'm properly dressed, I'll mosey on over to Lowes for some pepper sprinkles for the garden perimeter. That should close the buffet for now.

At least until Stewey decides to put peppers on the menu.

And again I say, damn dog.

(*) This is where I tell you that we do not hunt in this house. First of all, the idea of killing a tiny little living creature (except bugs and spiders, of course) makes me a little wobbly around the edges, and second of all, the only things my dog knows how to hunt are bargains at the local Macy's. So please don't fret that Chez Spinster has turned into a bloodfest or anything. We're still holding hands and singing KumBaYa while the bluebirds twitter about and the wildlife frolics in the sunshine.

THE SUMMERTIME BASKET OF SPINSTER STITCHY LOVE

Well, I managed to survive a few hours up in the studio, despite the fact that it was a little warm up there. The sun was streaming in the skylights and heating things up pretty well by the time I dragged my pajama clad self up the steps, but I didn't get overcome by the vapours and actually got a few things organized.

Herewith I present the SUMMERTIME BASKET OF SPINSTER STITCHY LOVE:

This is the wool applique project that I found on Sue Spargo's website. I've never done anything like this before, so it should be pretty interesting.

Is there anything better than a big 'ol Shepherd's Bush sampler to get things moving in the right direction?

I don't think I've done a Drawn Thread piece in ages. This should be good.

With so little left to go on this one, I figured it was time to get it out of the abandoned bone yard of unfinished projects and into the big FUPPY box, where it can languish with all of the other crap I've yet to frame, sew, send off, etc.

I forgot that I actually obsessed over all things crewel not so long ago. Maybe I can stick this one in my purse as a take-along project?

Still loving strawberries. I'm determined to get this one done before the crops of them start to hit the farmer's market.

OK, I know. I am woefully behind with this one and feel as though I missed graduation and will now have to go to summer school. Never fear, though...it's in the basket and ready to go again!

So that's it for now. Only a few things to get me started and hopefully back into the Happy Chair when it's positively beastly outside. I purposely kept the list small this time so that I won't feel like I'm trying to eat the entire elephant at once. We'll see how it goes......

DEEP THOUGHTS FOR A TUESDAY

Am I the only person who wonders if Toyota sent a big muffin basket to the folks at BP?

Is it wrong to want hot dogs with ketchup, mustard, and relish for breakfast at 7:30 in the morning?

If I remove the fabric from my dining room chairs by myself and try to wash it in the washing machine, will I be able to hide the staples when I re-attach it?

How aggravated will Aunt Chrissy be when I tell her we have to go shopping for dining room chairs this weekend because somebody decided to Bob Villa her way through the house today?

What would really happen if I didn't wear a bra to the bank?

How does one delicately mop up sweat that's running down her face as she tries to look impossibly chic when talking to a handsome police officer?

Should I go back to bed?

How hot will it be if I go up into the studio to put together a SummerTime Basket of Stitchy Fun?

Will the SummerTime Basket of Stitch Fun pull me out of my SpringTide Stitchy Slump of Epic Proportions?

Would Stewey eventually explode if I put a clothespin on his peenie? (Don't even think about calling the ASPCA....you KNOW I'm kidding and only looking for a cheap laugh here. I would gladly throw myself in front of a bus for that damn dog and would never ever never ever never do anything to hurt him or his fragile sensibilities.)

(I would, however, manage to put a very nice dent in the bus).

Wherever you are is exactly where I hope you want to be today. Think a few deep thoughts with me, won't you, and let me know what they are in your comments!

VICKY CHRISTINA WHAT THE HECK IS JEFFREY DEAN MORGAN DOING IN BARCELONA

So there I was, minding my own business and watching crap I've recorded on the DVR thingie, when all of a sudden....

OH MY GOSH! IT'S JEFFREY DEAN MORGAN AND HE'S IN BARCELONA WITH SCARLETT JOHANSEN!

What I didn't realize is the fact that Stewey had recorded a recent Woody Allen marathon and he was happily watching one of Woody's later films....Vicky Christina Barcelona. And, what also didn't register in my pea-sized little brain was that the handsome hubba hubba actor that was seducing these women right and left was not, in fact, my beloved Jeffrey Dean Morgan, but rather his Castillian cousin, Javier Bardem.

Ahem. For the Bardem.

My goodness gracious me, but that boy was lovely to behold. And he was a painter. And he liked to visit places. And he was kind to his father. And he knew how to fly an airplane the size of a queen sized mattress. And he was.....

Wow. Sorry. You lost me for a minute there.

Anywhoose....suffice it to say that I had never seen this guy before, so now I'm going to have to go find every single thing he's ever done and watch it all with rapt attention.

Speaking of attention....I finished another block of Strawberry Shortcake last night! I really liked this one and can't decide if it's my new favorite or if the next block I finish will be. Stay tuned.

CHA CHA CHA CHANGES (OH LOOK, ANOTHER OBSCURE MUSICAL REFERENCE)

So this whacky life I lead here in Hoosierville seems to be turned on its head lately. I'm not saying that this is a bad thing, but my happy little routines are requiring fine tuning that I just do not have the capacity to embrace.

In other words....I have a head like a rock.

Now for those of you who joined our heroine last year, you might be thinking that the changes I reference in the title of today's post are related to THE change, but alas, it is not so. The changes just refer to me and how I spend (um, er, I mean completely waste) a day.

This means nothing to anybody except me, of course, but being the nut job that I am, I am feeling particularly peevish about not spending at least nine and a half hours a day thinking about drivel and how I'm going to share it with my reading public.

(You didn't think this all came about naturally now...did you? I spend hours and hours and hours thinking about crap I can tell y'all and sometimes I even pretend that I'm waiting for you to come to lunch so that we can have diet Coke and solve the problems of the universe.)

But I digress.....

I suppose that what I'm really trying to say is that I am sorry that I have been completely half-assed and absent lately. Trust me when I tell you that a) I have not been abducted by handsome British chefs and am presently in a castle somewhere learning how to braise meat, b) I've not taken up any other hobbies (like archery or falconry or nuclear physics), and c) I'm not hard at work preparing my manuscript for the Nobel committee.

Truth is that I've been sitting in the Happy Chair staring at walls and squirrels and birds and raccoons and the hind end of one very miffed little Jack Russell terrier who thinks I should just admit that I am powerless in the face of SpringTide and then get the eff on with it already.

Really. I'm not kidding. He's majorly ticked off and I have the puddles to prove it.

So what is a Spinster to do? Call in the authorities? Take a pill or something? Revert back to the "old days" when I knew how to strap on the spandex stomach holding in panties and get stuff done?

Naaaahhhhh. I'm going to go take a nap. And then plop myself in the sun to see if I can soak up a little Vitamin D. And then maybe, just maybe, I'll put a freakin' needle in my hand and will finally have something to talk about with you other than the fact that I remain.....

You ever-loving crazy ass Spinster who just can't seem to ever get her proverbial act together,
Coni

WHERE HAVE YOU GONE, STITCHY MAGIO?

I know, I know, that title makes absolutely no sense to anybody who doesn't have the pea-sized intellect of my stupid mo-ther.

But she made me type it.

If I were 100% in charge of this entry, I would have started it by saying.....My mom can't come to the blog right now. She's too busy pouting in the corner that she has not had much stitchy time lately.

Well I say phooey on that. She has had PLENTY of time to play around with my Aunt Chrissy and her new BatMobile, and she even had time to laugh her silly head off tonight over my stinky little cousin playing in the water while Aunt Chrissy sprinkled the garden. It seems like she's been in some kind of stupor ever since the weather got nice, so I'm going to give her about ten more minutes of screwing around, and then I'm going to put my paw down.

I mean, after all....I can't be expected to entertain the masses all by myself now, can I?

Still very very warm and humid here in Hoosierville. I prefer to sepnd my days napping in the sunspots and waking for an occasional pee on the drapes. Ahhhh, the life of a pampered pup.

Happy Tuesday to all! Updates soon, or we'll start resorting to more drastic measures!

With love from your pal,
Stewey

Oh, and a P.S. to stitchy friend Denise.....YES indeedie! Absolutley everybody can do Strawberry Shortcake! The charts are very very clear and easy to read and once you get the feel of working on canvas versus linen, you'll love love love it as much as my mo-ther does! Go for it!

AND HERE WE ARRIVE AT MONDAY, ONCE AGAIN

The scene here at Chez Spinster is lovely and lazy for a Monday. Stewey awoke with the announcement that he intended to nap in the sun all day today and occasionally watch his little daisy grow.

Aunt Chrissy came to plant the garden on Saturday, so we will have farm fresh summer vegetables once again this year. We planted tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and broccoli in the garden bed and a few herbs and lettuces in the box thingie that shall heretofore be known as the herb and lettuce box.

I've managed to finish another block of Strawberry Shortcake and hope that I might be able to put thread to needle and needle to canvas all day today. We'll see how it goes.

I'm off like a herb of turtles. It's positively beastly outside today (at least for someone of my physical structure), so methinks a nice cold bevvie and some stitchy movie watching are exactly what will be on the official Spinster Stitcher Monday Afternoon Agenda As Was Approved By A Meeting Of The Executive Committee This Morning While Contemplating Getting Out Of The Big Girl Sleigh Bed.

So there.

FREAKIN' DATE NIGHT

So last night I decided that I would sit up in the buggy and get some stitching done. Just as I was getting into the Happy Chair, Stewey bolted from his perch and slapped an "OPEN" sign on the back patio door:

"Good evening! Tonight's selections include the chef's special blend of black sunflower seeds, accompanied by a lovely little Merlot imported from the Napa Valley. Shall I get you started with an appetizer while we await the arrival of your date?"

With that, I heard a lot of bitching and moaning and complaining about the lighting in the ladies room, and THE DATE arrived on scene: "I'm starving! What did you order for an appetizer? Is that waiter a little obnoxious, or what? How's my hair?"

Then, before I knew it, the place started to fill up with other parties anxious for a good table:

"I'm sorry, sir, but we'll have to seat you in the back. We only have tables for two on the patio this evening. Shall I take your lady friend's shawl?"

The patio diner suddenly realized that he was alone. He suspects that his date has retreated to the ladies' room once again...this time to fix her lipstick.

And so it goes. The Spinster dines alone, while her backyard is turned into Chez Stewey for the evening. I swear, I wouldn't have been at all surprised if a bear would have come out of the woods and requested a nice salmon with a little rice pilaf.

Damn nature.

I did manage to finish a block on Strawberry Shortcake! Only six more to go! Woo Hoo!

AND THEN THINGS CAME TO A SCREECHING HALT

Just when I thought it wasn't possible to go any slower with my stitching, I seem to have found a way to actually come to a complete stop. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

Now, please don't think that I've given up on it or that I'm going to find some other crazyass obsession to get me through the day...stitching is like air to me and I know that I'll get back on the horse eventually, but....

Last night I think I watched TeeVee. I say "I think" because when I went to bed I had absolutely no recollection of the previous four hours. Not one clue what I did to occupy my time between the hours of 7 and 11pm. Did I come up with a solution to the problems in the Middle East? Cure cancer? Solve the riddle of the ages as to why the hell they put ten hotdogs in one package and eight buns in another (or is it the other way 'round...I can never remember)? Read a book? Paint a picture? Clean a house or do a load of laundry?

Nope. Not a clue.

Stewey seems fine today. Well rested and watered and fed, so I must have paid some kind of attention to him. He doesn't seem to be sporting a tan, either, so I guess he didn't take the car keys and head to the beach for a little sun while I was "otherwise engaged". And, amazingly enough, the drapes are non-peed-on, so that little fact alone has me doing a jiggety jig jig today. (The fact that I forgot to shut the baby gate on my closet, which resulted in me having to re-wash all of the clothes on the lower portion of said closet is, however, a story for another day.) (Damn dog.)

So today I think I will enjoy sun sunshine and see if I can't put needle to thread or thread to canvas/linen.

Who knows? Maybe I'll actually remember it in the morning and we won't have to think about installing a spinster cam in the house after all.

HEY...IT'S PROGRESS

What can I say? Speedy Gonzales, I'm not.

A LITTLE MORE SHORTCAKE, IF YOU PLEASE

As has been previously mentioned on this here blog by Little Lord Fauntleroy His Very Naughty Self, the level of activity around here has been rather....um....how shall I put this?.....modest.

I am pacing myself, yes indeedie I am, but may I just point out that it is 8am on a Sunday and I am here at the 'puter writing my drivel while SOMEBODY remains snuggled under the covers in the big girl sleigh bed?

Now I know it drives you nuts that I call it the big girl sleigh bed, but it comes by that name honestly. When I lived in New Jersey, I went out and bought my very first piece of real estate. It was a momentous occasion for all involved, and you would have thought that the 800 square feet that comprised my condo in the sky was the Taj Freaking Mahal. Well, when I went to the closing, the nice people there handed me a check and said something about there being too much money in escrow (or some other obscure place that only bankers understand), and they told me to go buy myself something nice for my new house. So I did. I marched right into the nearest furniture store and said "Hi! I just bought my very first house and I need a big girl bed!". The saleslady took one look at me, and in her best Jersey accent said "Yeah, you sure do." (I presume that this was in reference to my girth, but who the heck knows what anybody in that part of the world usually thought of me?) So she marched me right over to where the beds were located and said "Here, hon. That's the one you want. I'll have it delivered on Tuesday. Where do you want it delivered?"

So that was that, and I finally had a big girl bed after years of sleeping on blow-up mattresses, waterbeds, and futons. And it's been my most very favorite thing in the whole wide world ever since.

Strawberry Shortcake continues, and I am still really loving every stitch of it. I'm not moving as quickly as I would like, but sometimes I guess I need to learn how to enjoy the process of it all rather than the progress. (Have you seen the stitchy question about that very subject out there in Blogville? I'm still formulating my response, but I think those that have answered it thus far have done so quite brilliantly.)

I'm rubbing my hands together and smacking my lips in anticipation of tonight's Tudors. I will confess that last week's episode was extremely hard to watch, so I'm hoping for something a little more uplifting tonight. Without giving too much away (although the fact that it's history kind of kills any surprises in the overall plot), I found myself feeling really really guilty that I had been wishing for Catherine Howard to "exit" the scene, and then, when she did, it was brutal. I mean baroo-tull. So there I sat, feeling really bad that I was cheering for her demise all these weeks, and I wondered if I could have grown to love her eventually?....

(pondering that thought for a moment)....

Nope. Couldn't stand her. And the fact that she was only fifteen didn't stir my normal instinct to protect and love all children (ahem). I wanted her g-o-n-e.

Oops. Didn't mean to go so far afield on this one. Here's the progress on SS:
And, just so you have something by which to compare it (is that even correct?):

I hope that your Sunday is fabulous and that you get to do whatever it is you want to do! As for me....I'm going to go wake up a sleepy dog and then laugh at his little bed head hair style. Bwa Ha Ha Ha Ha!