I want to make a lamp out of a gourd. I want to have closets that look like displays from Restoration Hardware. I want to make homemade tomato soup and the kind of hot chocolate that would make Swiss Miss cry.

I’m never going to do any of those things. But I want them in the sort of abstract way I want a pony.

This is why, prison or no, I never abandoned my Martha. I love the website. I love the magazine. And before all the hoopla, I loved the television show. I never particularly cared if she was the ice queen or not. I wasn’t looking for a best friend, just some quality goat-raising, lettuce-growing, shed-building, cookie-decorating advice.

So imagine my glee when my Martha-free television sprouted not one, but two, Martha programs. It was like Christmas.

And then it wasn’t.

I’ve never been a fan of “The Apprentice.” I thought perhaps it was Donald’s hair that was spoiling the pot for me. But no. It turns out the squabbling and backstabbing and power suits are just as annoying in Martha’s loft as in Donald’s boardroom.

That’s alright, I thought, there’s still her new afternoon show.

I watched it for the first time today. (Admittedly a few days late to the party, but there was writing to be done.) I hung around for about, oh, four minutes. When she brought out the pig in the dress – an actual live pig in a dress – it was time for me to go.

I don’t want to watch Martha make friends with Amy Grant or chat with small children over barn animals. I want to know what the heck I’m supposed to do with four miles of ribbon and a bushel of dried corn. I want my Martha back!

I want her back just like before. I want absurdly complicated cake recipes and lessons on putting out a 28 piece place setting. I want to watch her dip her own candles and knit sweaters from her dog’s fur. I want the fantasy back. I don’t want this new “real” Martha. If I wanted real, I’d go organize my own linen closet. The one full of mismatched sheets and car-washing towels.

Please, Martha, come back!