Housekeeping Horror

It has come to this. Perhaps I should back track. I have never been what you'd call a pristine housekeeper. I have been particularly lax in the vacuuming, dusting, dishwashing, polishing and waxing departments...which upon second glance, leaves little else.
So maybe it shouldn't have come as such a surprise when yesterday, the beautiful fall sunlight came streaming through my front window and cascaded across one of two old burgundy easy chairs. Not the one I sit in, the other one used by guests. Up until that point all was good. But things took a decidely sinister turn when the aforementioned sunlight glanced off the handywork of a certain spider who shall remain nameless. I thought to myself, this can only mean two things, both of them tragic: that I am a terribly slack housekeeper and - perhaps worse - that visits from friends are insufficient to prevent the formation of cobwebs on my furniture.
Thank goodness I have other things going for me.

writing on the wall

I was just admiring the wall which sits behind my canvases while I work. It has all the markings and makings of a fabulous painting. Too bad it's busy holding up part of a room otherwise I might frame it and send it out to one of my galleries. What is all that paint doing there you might be asking. Does she miss the canvas? How bad can her post-menopausal eyes be?
I use the wall like a giant palette which means I mix colours on it. Also, before I put my brushes into water, I discharge excess paint onto the wall which is a fancy way of saying I put it there. The marks are pure random, unsupervised, energy. If only I could tame it to the page.