My spinster guilt will not allow me to perpetuate the illusion that I live in a scene from the Pottery Barn catalogue, especially since you are all so lovely to comment about how clean and tidy Chez Spinster looks.
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This one has my dear departed mom (and Stewey I'm sure) cringing their perfectly pressed blouses into a knot up there in heaven. The sheets, I'll have you know, are indeed clean and fresh, as are the blankets...not a whiff of Bosco to be found. (And yes, to answer your second horrified question (with the Swedish fish being the first) that blue thing is Stewey's blanket and yes, I do sleep with it. I am a fifty-one year old woman who falls asleep clutching a Target baby blanket that her little dog used to lay on.) (Don't judge me, please. I'm grieving. It's a process.)
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Hopefully the following evidence to the contrary will make you feel like Martha Stewart.
Sippy cups taking a bath in the sink:
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A dining room table being used as a desk. (The Swedish fish in the bottom of the frame? Those? Um...they're medicinal):
I had a photo of all of the laundry on the closet floor that is sorted and waiting for its sploshing, but I just couldn't do it. There's something about my big girl underpants strewn about that was just too racy for this here blog.
Besides. This post was supposed to make you feel better about your own homekeeping skills...not cause you to run from the room gouging your eyeballs out!
Finally...yup, you guessed it. All of this is a completely shameless attempt to distract you from the sad reality of my lack of anything stitching to show. I haven't had a needle in my hand in a week! I swear, though, that at 2:30 this afternoon that will change, since I am getting my car serviced and won't have anything else to do BUT stitch!
So, happy happy day to you, dearies! Do something fun and wonderful that blows your skirt right up and come tell me all about it!