LEARNING TO LIVE A NEW NORMAL...FOR NOW

I've been having a lot of fun talking about my transition to the new role of A Gentlewoman of Leisure, but the truth of the matter is...this is a lot harder than I thought it would be.

For most of my life I've run around with my hair on fire...doing this and that...running hither and yon...and fretting, worrying, and stressing myself into regular tizzie fits.  It might have looked like I was remarkably calm and in control, but I promise you that under the surface of the water my fat little legs were kicking as fast as they possibly could.

I also used to pride myself on the fact that, despite my girth, I was physically a very strong person and had pretty good stamnia for an old broad.  I was able to manage myself and my household without too much drama, and there were times when I would have considered myself moderately physically active.

But now?

The physical toll that this kidney disease has taken is...terrifying.  I am on my knees every night thanking God that I feel as good as I do, since I know that there are sooooo many people with soooo many more terrible ailments than mine, but the loss of my physical well-being is not exactly going down like a spoonful of sugar lately.

(Of course, that last statement was meant to be metaphorical, since I do not currently possess the capability of SEEING my knees...let alone getting on them, but I think you get the point.)

So I suppose what I'm trying to say is...I'm making lemonade here, kids.  And while I am enjoying quiet days of floating in a pool or taking a nap or sitting in the Happy Chair watching the walls, I would trade them quite happily for a day in which I felt better than someone who has just been dropped on their head from a very tall building into a pile of fire ants right after running a marathon and taking an all night chemistry exam.

I don't say this to draw sympathy...that would be my worst nightmare.  I say it to tell you that sometimes it's just nice to come here to the Land of MakeBelieve and Pretty Stitchy Things and talk about the weather.  Or embroidery hoops.  Or the perfect project bag in which one stores their WIPs.  I'm sure Betty would tell me that, in addition to being mentally and emotionally unstable, I am just not living in reality, but...dear, dear sweet hateful Betty...reality just sucks the life out of me at the moment and I have finally found a way to keep it in check by ignoring it completely.

So in between going to the hospital, lab, and doctor's office for tests and appointments and...all of it, I put on my sunglasses and pretend that I'm a Real Housewife of Someplace or Other and I get on with it.  Every now and then I do something fun like float in a pool or wander the storage solutions aisle at the Targets, and other days I can't get out of bed for neither love nor money.

But I'm here.  And to paraphrase Miss Ceily Her Very Self from The Color Purple..."I may be poor.  I may be sick.  I may even be ugly.  But I'm here.  God knows I'm here!"

(Favorite scene in all of moviedom, by the way.  Right up there with Ray saying "It's the Stay-Puft marshmallow man" to explain the coming of Gozer.)

OK, end of ramble.  Sometimes I just need to remind myself that it's OK to just skip merrily through the tulpis while humming a happy tune, and that you all will indulge me as I continue to do so.  We're all in this together, kids, so we might as well have fun while we're doing it.  Right? 

IN WHICH A PLAN COMES TOGETHER, VERY NICELY INDEED

Apparently, we're now starting all the things.

I decided to have a stitchy Sunday yesterday, and just as I was about to pick up the Sunflower Bellpull, something started calling to me from the cube room studio.

This is Summer at Cherry Hill by Brenda Gervais.

I purchased this quite a while ago and had never stitched it because of my linen selection.  The chart calls for 40ct Sand from Picture Thus Plus.  For some reason, I must have been feeling very very brave at the time, because the piece of linen that was cut for this was 36ct.

Yikes.

Despite my very best attempts with several different magnification contraptions, I just couldn't see the holes very well.  I was just starting to fret about this when I remembered that I had purchased a fat quarter of 28ct Wren, and if I could only remember where I put it...

Viola!

The Wren is actually perfect for this, in my humble opinion, and looks even better with the threads than the Sand would have.

So I plopped myself into the Happy Chair and enjoyed my Play Time with this until it was time to hit the hay.

Nothing on the agenga today.  I might try a little spiffing and fluffing to occupy a minute or two, but methinks I might also take a book to the pool and float about a bit in the sunshine.  Tomorrow will be filled with labwork and doctor visits, so I might as well enjoy some peace and quiet.

At Cherry Hill!

IT'S A CONSPIRACY. I SWEAR IT TO BE TRUE.

In January of 1999 I moved back to Indiana from the Jersey Shore.  I had been living in New Jersey for about six years, and after finally moving to a lovely little condo on the beach, got homesick for...cornfields...apparently.

One of my favorite rituals of living in New Jersey, however, was the walk to the newsstand every Sunday morning for the Sunday edition of the New York Times.

A newsstand.

Right there in the little neighborhood...next to the place where you could get the good bagels and a great cup of coffee.

We don't have newsstands here in Hoosierville.  This was a sad fact that I discovered when I tried, that first Sunday, to find a place to buy the damn Sunday paper.

Over the course of the last almost twenty years I have done everything I can think of to continue my Sunday Times tradition.  At first, I started popping into Borders to see if they had a few copies for sale. Then, when Borders closed, I would drive from Walgreens to Walgreens, market to market, place to place to find that one little hidden gem that would set aside a copy for me on the promise that I would show up every Sunday morning with a shopping list and cheerful disposition.

Once a year I fell for the home delivery marketing voodoo magic, and I would buy a subscription at the low low price of a gazillion dollars a month (!), but in the eleven or so years that I tried this, I never once received the damn Sunday paper when or where it was supposed to be damn delivered.

But, because this is me we're talking about, and because I have a head like a rock and just can't seem to learn from my past cockeyed optimism...I caved and ordered a home delivery subscription once again for the new digs here at CS2 when I fell prey to an enticing ad on the Instagrams.

Wanna know what happened?

First...Exhibit A:

Current time is 1:13 pm EDT.

Exhibit B:

In case it's hard to discern...that would be the landing in front of my door.

Sans paper.

The worst part of this story is that when I called to report the missing delivery, the guy that answered (my new bestie, Tim) recognized my name and said "Oh, hi Miss Rich!  It's been a while since we've heard from you!  Did you get your paper OK this morning?  Looks like we delivered it to 1529 South Lake...oh, wait a minute.  That looks like it might be a bad address.  Did you, by any chance, move recently?"

So after living in my house for fifteen years and missing the Sunday Times delivery for almost every single one of them, it would appear that they finally got it right and started delivering there.

Except, of course, the fact that I no longer live there.

I'm going back to bed with high hopes that somebody somewhere will take pity on me, fix the address in the computer, put their shoes and socks on, and bring me a copy of the paper later this afternoon.

In the meantime, there are things to stitch and library books to read and chickens to grill and swimmingsuits to ponder.  I hope that your very own Sunday is exactly what you want it to be...and that your paper was dry (and delivered) your weather is lovely, and your needles are flying!

SATURDAY SPINSTER BLISS...

Miss Jane and Miss Charlene supervised a visit to the House of Stitches today.  

(There may or may not have been shenanegins.)

Miss Joy, once again, was the Fabric Whisperer and selected a simply perfect piece of Heroic linen from Picture This Plus for this little beauty:

The threads are all conversions by Yours Truly from NPI silks to Weeks Dye Works overdyed cotton. (Happy to share names if anybody is interested.)

I didn't really neeeeedddd anything, but when has neeeeeedddd ever had anything to do with it anyway?  

Speaking of neeeeedddding...one of the things that I have come to realize is that there are six things that I need to do every day if I'm going to survive this world.  I need to read, write, stitch, blog, cook, sleep, and eat.

(Breathing and water drinking are optioinal.)

(Damn good coffee, however, is medicinal.)

So...I'm heading to nap time with the latest library book:

And when I get up, I will have dinner (leftover from lunch thankyouverymuch), and I'll continue stitching:

So that's the latest from this neck of the woods.  Hope your very own Saturday is also stupendously swell!  Come tell me all about it!

SATURDAY!

IN WHICH OUR HEROINE GETS A HAIRCUT...AND THEN GOES TO THE POOL!!!

Miss Brandi worked her magic on the unruly squirrel on top of my head, and then I got completely sassy with it and went for my very first dip in the pool.

You know what's great about a swimming pool?

When you're in it...floating about like a happy manatee, nobody can see the flop sweat you've broken out into because you're already wet!  And when your face goes beet red because you're remembering the thicket that grows on the back of your thighs that you forgot to Nair...it just looks like sunburn!

So I kept my sunglasses on and figured if nobody could see my face then they couldn't see anything else...kind of like an invisibility cloak...and I got in the water.

My God.  What bliss!

I forgot how good it feels to just move around and feel so...refreshed and relaxed all at the same time.

Methinks I have discovered a new part of my daily routine.  

Thank you for your kind words about my Sam Toft purchase.  I am thinking that this will be a good weekend to finally get these walls finished now that it's here!

Hope you are heading into a happy, blissful, stitchy, wonderful weekend!

IT TOOK ME A MINUTE...BUT I FIGURED IT OUT

When Miss Susan Anonymous started the YouCaring fund for me and then all of you so generously contributed to it, I promised myself that I would find a way to use the money meaningfully.

And so I secured my future a bit by reserving funds for CS2 and then, more importantly, the month long stay in Indy after transplant.  I was also able to finally pay off some nagging medical bills, and leave a little cushion for future bumps in the road (like trips to the emergency room for diverticulitis flare ups).

But I wanted to do two more things.

First, I wanted to come up with a way to properly thank everyone who donated.  I think I finally figured it out and will start getting that task completed this weekend.  I am so woefully behind on doing this, and for that I really do apologize, but I intend to start fixing that tardiness.  Right now.

The second thing I wanted to do was purchase something that would be a daily reminder that the world came to my rescue when I needed it the most.  I had decided that a new Happy Chair would be just the perfect thing, but then I dithered so much on style, color, etc, that I found myself saying "Oh, just put the old one in the apartment and figure it out later."  And then I started fretting over the expense of it, etc etc, and it took the fun out of it.

And then I found it.  And it arrived in the post today.  All the way from England.

This is Sam Toft's "It's All You Need".

It is a limited edition print and is signed by the artist.  It's mounted and ready for a frame, and I am going to hang it directly opposite me so that I can see it every minute of every day.  

This is the little house that love built, my dearies, and I promise you that I will never forget that.  In case I forgot to tell you...

Thank.  You.

From the very bottom of my very pitiful yet very full heart.  You saved me when I thought I wasn't worth saving.  As long as I live, I will never forget that.

Here's hoping that your weekend is full of...love...and all things stitchy and happy!

WooHoo!

Love,

Coni

THURSDAY. THURSDAY.

AND THEN THE PRANCYDANCE TURNED INTO THE UGLY CRY...

I don't think the poor UPS guy had even turned off the engine on the big brown truck before I was out of the Happy Chair like a shot and waiting for him at the door in my pajamas.

What can I say?

When I'm inside the apartment, I'm going to be prepared for snoozy naps and lounging...not formal wear and a proper set of underclothes.

So...here it is!

But wait...there's a snap tray! And a needle minder!!  I only ordered the canvas and threads and stitch guide!

Oh...there's a note from Miss Ruth.   Wonder what it says...

And this, dear friends, is when the ugly cry hit.  This entire package was a gift.

From stitchy angels.

How in the world did I get so very lucky?  I am continually overwhelmed by love and kindness and generosity.

So, dear angels...thank you from the bottom of my pitiful little heart.  You have just made this the most happy day.

Indeed.

I GUESS NOW I HAVE TO FINISH IT!

I realized after I had done it that putting the date on this might not have been the brightest idea, but...who cares if it says 2017 and probably won't be done until 2140?  

What it did do, however, was get me thinking about gathering a Fall basket and getting myself back to a more "seasonal" rotation.  I have a nice long retreat at Donaldson coming up next weekend, and I'm thinking that it might be the perfect excuse to close out Summer stitching and launch myself into Fall!

Today is a prancydancing day.  I signed up for Miss Ruth's next Mystery Class (which is a fabulous blue bird!) and the UPS thingie tells me that it will be here today!  I keep running to the front door every time I hear a noise, thinking it's my delivery!  Oh, I just can't wait.

(Prancypants dance.  Prancypants dance.  Prancypants dance!)

Today is printer set up day.  My old one didn't survive the move, so I grabbed one at the Targets that is supposed to be very easy to use and will print from my iPad thingie.  Fingers crossed!

Futzingday is upon us, dearies!  Let's all do something fun and then tell each other about it!

AAAAHHHH, YOUTH.

I was fishing through my stash for something to play with last night, when I came upon the Sunflower Bellpull from The Drawn Thread:

I had started this piece quite some time ago...I'm sure if I looked back hard enough I could figure out the exact date, but considering the hash I had made of it, the date is best left forgotten.

That entire bottom area north of the border stitch was...screwey.  I don't know what chart I was looking at, but I had too many leaves, leaves in the wrong places, and leaves stitched in the wrong color.

So this leads me to presume that this was started when I was a newbie and still learning how to count.

Quiet couple of days...met with the kidney doc yesterday and she concurrs with family doc that surgery on the gut needs to be done asap.  They are in disagreement about which surgical team to go with, but if Buzzy's guy is willing...we're going with him.

Nothing much else to report.  I am going to behave myself and lay low today.  

What's new in your neck of the woods?

CONTEMPLATING...

Stargazer by Mirabilia...it would be my first.

SATURDAY NIGHT FEE NEE

Jardin de Bobines

Jardin Prive'/Nathalie Cichon

28ct Fresco by Picture Thus Plus

DMC floss as charted, with a few substitutions

This was an absolute joy to stitch from start to finish.  The chart itself is really quite perfect in its size, clarity, and printing, and the design is a lot of fun with the whimsy and bright colors.  This is a new designer to Yours Truly, but I look forward to doing more of her pieces!

Lovely, quiet, peaceful day.  I did manage to clean up my entranceway a bit and stow extra boxes, etc in the closet.  Now it is ready for the hanging of lots and lots of stitchy things to really make it feel like home!  I also wrote a wish list for each room, as well as a project list that I hope to get back to as soon as I can.

Many of you asked me about my list of things I'd like to do after transplant.  One of the stitchy things I'd like to do is finally host that retreat I've been talking about.  Another dream is to take an across country train trip in a private compartment and stop at the Shepherd's Bush shop on the way to an Aristea retreat at Liguna Nigel.  And finally, the big dream is to go on one of the trips to Great Britain with Miss Elizabeth from Needlepoint Now.

Wonder if I could do all of those things next year?

I haven't made it down to the pool yet.  The truth of the matter is that I am feeling quite shy about being in a bathingsuit, so I am thinking that a morning dip one day this week might avoid the crowds.

Tomorrow promises to be another hot and steamy day, so my plan is to repeat today.  I might even start something new from one of the bins in the cube room, or I might dig into the WIP basket and do a little organizing.  I had an idea to put them in order according to how much is left to finish and then try to knock a few out, but I'm kind of enjoying just playing with whatever strikes my fancy, too.  

OK, off to bed.  The restaurant downstairs is hosting an Italian fretival this weekend, so the music and shenanegans might continue on a little bit longer, but I've got Flosstube to keep me from hollering at them to turn that racket off like a grumpy old lady.

More tomorrow.  Hope your Saturday was swell!

SATURDAY SPINSTER BLISS

I was going to do laundry and clean the apartment today.

Naaaahhhhh.....I think I'll just stay right here, drinking my damn good, doing the puzzles, finishing my stitchy piece, and then taking a nap.

I swear, as soon as I get that new kidney and get some energy back I'm gonna' be dangerous!  I have already started a list of things to think about doing when that time comes.  Something to look forward to!

Here's hoping your very own weekend is off to a blissful start!

FRIDAY BLATHERING, PART DEAUX

VISITING CS1: As mentioned previously on this here blog, I have been studiously avoiding going back to the house because it was resulting in meltdowns and me bawling my eyes out while pitifully pleading to nobody in particular "I just want to come home".  So today I decided to do something different.  Instead of waiting until I was getting ready to leave Chez Spinster, I walked right in, sat right down, and said "OK, Tubbykins.  If you're going to have a meltdown, do it now and get it over with.  We've got stuff to do and places to be and a nap to take."

Guess what happened then?

Zip.  Zilch.  Nada.

I tried.  I really did, but the tears just wouldn't come.  Instead, I watered the plants, grabbed a few small items, and pulled the door shut behind me.

Wonder if this means I'm turning the proverbial corner?

HAULING CRAP UP THE STAIRS:  I really need to stop complaining about it.  I rented the damn apartment with the stairs right there in front of God and everybody, so it's not like I didn't know this would be an issue.  I took this apartment because the price was right, quite frankly, and my inability to navigate those stairs is not going to last forever.  So today I went on the Amazons like you all told me to and I ordered a stair climbing cart.  Problem solved.  I will use it as long as I need to and when I feel better I'll put it in the closet or donate it.

JOANNS:  I had to stop at the JoAnns for a replacement bulb for my stitchy light, and lo and behold, they had them on sale!  I was so excited...I thought my Bargain Betty dance was going to scare the bejeebus out of everybody in the place.  I didn't really do too much looking about...today's heat and humidity already have me plum tuckered out, so I was good and got out of there for a whopping five bucks!  

OK...now it really is time for that nap.  I'll blather more later!

WooHoo!

THE KELLY BUNDY METHOD

My brain operates on the Kelly Bundy method.  For everything new that goes in, something old has to come out.  If I'm not careful, all of this new stuff rattling around in here is going to cause me to forget my middle name and Social Security number, and nobody needs to do that more than once in their lifetime.

LAP STAND: Thank you for all the links and suggestions.  The best advice, though, was to slow my roll, since I don't know the actual logistics of dialysis yet, and whether or not I will be able to even stitch at all.  In the meantime, I have several things I can do to help Buzzy not get so sore...namely move him around a bit every now and then instead of keeping him bent up for hours at a stretch.

SEWING MACHINE:  Problem solved.  I grabbed my sisters's machine from the house and hauled it over here to CS2 and used it like a boss.  But when the time comes for my sister to ask for it back, I have several great options at the ready.

GUILT, SHAME, AND BITCHING ABOUT HOW MUCH STUFF WE'VE GOT:  Kids, can we put a moratorium on apologizing for our stuff?  I have been watching Flosstube like a crazy person and am continually amazed at the lovliness of each and every single stitcher I've ever met.  Take it from somebody who knows this first hand:  Stitchers are the nicest, most generous, least selfish, smartest, funniest, warmest, kindest people on the planet.  But we seem to be the guiltiest too, since every introduction of one's latest haul or parade of WIPs or showing of stash is precluded with a "I really shouldn't have" or "I'll never get this finished in three lifetimes" or...insert sense of guilt and shame here.  You know what?  Every single one of those purchases or acquisitions should be viewed in a positive light.  If we stop buying, shops close, designers retire, and the world tilts off its axis.  There is no such thing as having too much stash...you are simply enriching your passion and your time with something you love and that will keep you out of trouble, the depths of idleness, and pessimism.  I personally think that having several hundred things going is a sign of good luck...you need to stick around long enough to make a dent in it all while simultaneously increasing your luck by building the pile higher and higher.  Unless you and your children are starving in the street because you spent the rent money on Dinky Dyes...go for it, buy all the things, and come show them to me every chance you get.

(That entire diatribe could have been put thusly...life's too short.)

SUNSCREEN:  My old lady bathingsuit arrived from the big old lady store, so I decided that I might try a dip in the pool this weekend.  But I also figured that I might want to get some sunscreen (which is something I have never once purchased in my life), since I haven't been in the sun in about 15 years and really don't need to do anything silly like get a massive sunburn on top of everything else.  When did sunscreen get so darn complicated?!  I stood in that aisle for a good half hour trying to figure out what to get, and ended up with a 45 lotion and a 70 spray.  Good grief, Charlie Brown!  It will probably take me longer to wedge myself into the old lady bathingsuit and get the bloody sunscreen on than it will to determine that it's too hot outside and come back in, so wish me luck!

DR. MELFI SPEAKS:  I saw Dr. Melfi yesterday and confessed that I told all of you that I see her.  And she said something pretty brilliant in my opinion.  She said that the stigma of seeking help with one's mental heath is baffling to her, because she sees people who are working hard to be the best version of themselves...not people who are crazy or weak or lazy or stupid or whiny.  After all...we maintain our cars, our furnaces, our teeth, and our pedicures.  Why wouldn't we maintain our ability to navigate the world?  

(You just have to love that about her, don't you?)

WEEKEND PLANS:  I am going to try to finish Bobbin Garden and then play with whatever else strikes my fancy.  I might sit on the floor in the cube room and re-organize a few bins, or I might just pull out a WIP or two and see if I can gett jiggy with something fun.  I also want to get my groove back on with an "on deck" basket for Fall, but that might end up with an obsessive planning session or (Heaven forbid) the implementation of a rotation!  Yikes!  But first, I need to go water plants at CS1 and then think about a nap.  I didn't sleep at all last night for some reason, so my heiney is dragging.

That's the report from the steamy confines of CS2 today.  I hope you have started your weekend with a cold beverage and a hot project in hand!  Don't forget to show me all your stuff and to enjoy every bit of it!

TURNABOUT IS FAIR PLAY

I've been accused of being an enabler.

(Cue the footage of me clutching my pearls, gasping in horror, fanning myself with my program, and then giggling hysterically.)

Now it's your turn to get me down the stitchy garden path.

For several months now I have contemplated a lap stand.  My poor left arm just ain't what it used to be, and as I get closer and closer to the day when I am going to be in the dialysis chair for hours at a time, I think it's probably wise to narrow down my decision.

But what kind do I get?

My first criteria is that I have to be able to get to the back of my work quickly and easily and possibly with one hand. (My left arm will be immobile, full of needles, and hooked up to a machine.)  Ideally that means something that just holds my piece without clamps, screws, bolts, or fairy wings.

I also have the unfortunate issue of not really having a "lap" per se, and the propensity for getting a little seasick if my project isn't steady when I work on it, i.e., not loosey goosey and flopping all over the place.  This makes me think I might want a "sit on" frame, but...see question above.

Finally...the damn thing needs to be portable enough that I won't require a sherpa to get it in and out if a car, up and down stairs, or in and out of a stylishly made tote bag (that is the next thing I will have to purchase for these adventures).  I'll be toting this thing four days a week, kids.  Probably don't want one that weighs as much as me.  Or a small country.  Whichever is heavier.

So talk amongst yourselves, please, and get back to me.  If you have a magic bullet and wouldn't mind sharing a picture or where you purchased said bullet, my pitiful little heart would be most grateful and forever in your debt.  More than I am already.

THURSDAY

WEDNESDAY...IN WHICH OUR HEROINE DECIDES THAT SHE IS GOING TO HIBERNATE

My appointment with my family doc went as expected...surgery is imminent.

But before that can happen, there are antiobiotics to swallow, specialists to call, kidneys to plump, and one very stubborn spinster who is determinied to postpone said surgery until the apocalypse.

(Which I assume is any day now considering all of the other crap happening in my life at the moment.)

Never fear...I took the news with my usual good cheer, paid my $10 copay, got the hell out of there and went for a Berry Boost smoothie at the Smoothie King right outside my apartment.

I don't know what's in it exactly, but I feel healthier already.

Seriously, kids.  I will survive this.  I have to.  There are blog posts to post, Needlepoint Now columns to write, and enough stitching projects in my little cube room studio to keep me busy and out of trouble well into my dotage.

Besides...I promised myself that getting all of the bad stuff out of the way now means that I will be a very happy little old lady.

With a motorcycle.

And a very young boyfriend.

Named Brad.

Here's a little progress on Bobbin Garden:

As soon as I finish my smoothie, the paper, and the puzzles I think I'll get back to it.  It is a simple stitch, but very fun and turning out quite lovely, I must say.

Here's hoping your very own Futzingday is surgery and worry free.  Do something fun and come tell me all about it!

THERE I GO AGAIN...MAKING LEMONADE

So I had a thought...

If God/the universe never gives us more than we can handle, then He/She/it must think I'm freaking Wonder Woman.

(I always wanted to be Wonder Woman.  I used to twirl around banging my little jelly bracelets together, but all that ever achieved was an upchuck of my baloney sandwich and oddly shaped bruises that made my mother wonder what the heck I was up to now.)

Tomorrow I am going to visit with my family doctor, who will most definitely call the entire team to rally round the conference table once again in support of the Spinster.  I am positively determined to go to transplant in the Fall, so if they tell me to stand on my head and spit wooden nickels, that's exactly what I'm going to do.

(But, in closing, can I just point out that this latest episode of unwellness is coming right on the heels of me being a model patient for the last two weeks?  I swear, as God is my witness, I'm going to get a pack of smokes, a bottle of tequilla, and a denim mini skirt and go party my heiney off like it's 1987, and we'll see if I don't feel a thousand percent better than the idiot health nut who has been drinking her filtered water, eating organic crap, and resting herself like crazy for the better part of ten years.)

Just kidding.

Besides...I don't think there's enough denim in the world to make this beefy gal a mini skirt, and even if there was...nobody needs to see that.

OK, back to stitching and drinking my filtered water.  If I get really crazy, I might even contemplate a little Jello.

Oey.