Martha Stewart, I fear, would be most unhappy with my progress at putting the house back together after the carpet installation. Most. She might take me out behind the woodshed, in fact. Because. I took yesterday off to see The Women with a girlfriend. (Contrary to what one snippy critic said, I thought Annette Bening looked fabulous. But couldn’t Mary Haines have said “thanks, but no thanks” when that unfaithful lout of a husband begged for her hand again? And couldn’t the director have said a loud, emphatic “no, thanks” to that silly, manipulative birthing scene? Heavens to Betsy, it was endless. Absolutely.)
But back to my Monday and what I did and did not accomplish. (Because I know
your day won’t be complete if I don’t share these scintillating details.) I did
a yoga class. I finished an Ann Rule book. I made tuna salad. (When I said scintillating,
I meant scintillating. Really.)
Today, I did a yoga class. And I did do a bit of work on restoring order to our home. A bit. A tiny bit. Not enough to win Martha’s smile of approval, though. Not enough for a gold star. Oh, well, there’s always tomorrow. Just ask Ms. O’Hara. Or perhaps I could beg Ms. Stewart to sprinkle some magic dust on me. Please, Martha. Please. Please. Please. I beseech you. I'm on my knees.