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I mentioned a few post back that I had received a threatening package from Rox for Halloween. Had I realized my Halloween Spirit was inside I might have opened it sooner. But I was trying to be good and waited and now I’m sorry. Sorry because I didn’t decorate this year, sorry that I worked late last night and was grumpy because the entire city was crossing the street in front of me to get to the annual ‘haunted walk’, sorry that I’ve turned into Halloween’s version of Scrooge and sorry that I failed to wear my green spider necklace today. Worse, I’m sorry that its ‘end of the month’ and I will probably be working late tonight and miss all two of our ‘trick or treaters’ and I’m suddenly very much in the mood to see them.
I am not, however, sorry that I received such a perfect little package of skull laden goodness (maybe a little sorry about the box of BOOGERS that LOOK AND FEEL LIKE THE REAL THING – hysterical, but will not be eaten, heh). I’m not really sorry that I waited, as often happens with random gifts opening it brightened what promised to be a very dismal day. And this one did one better, it rallied my Halloween spirit. Do I have the best friends or what? Happy Halloween everyone!
As part of our bathroom remodel we purchased small, flat screen TV. Believe it or not this is my requirement not D’s; I like to watch the news while I’m getting ready in the mornings. Our plan is to mount it on the wall next to the right hand sink, but we are loath to spend the $100 on the bracket so D is busily devising a plan. This is the kind of project he excels at and I’m happy to let him handle it. Currently the TV is in the bedroom, a previously TV-less space, and I’ve been taking advantage of its presence there. Last night I turned it on and flipped channels a bit before going to bed and stalled on the community channel which was airing a city counsel meeting. Normally I’d breeze right past but they were discussing a proposed parking ban which I’m rather against and I stopped to watch. In fact, I watched for nearly two hours.
There is a great deal of not so interesting commentary I could include here about the proposed ban, but it wouldn’t matter as it did not pass. Besides, though I was interested in the outcome, it was the interaction between the committee members that kept me watching. They were petty, childish, and insulting toward each other. It wasn’t so much democratic process as it was a battle of wills. Only two members stood out to me as having a modicum of sense; the first was an older woman who spoke with wisdom and calmness that failed to rub off on the others, and the second a younger man who had to cajones to say ‘too much government is a bad thing’. Every other member issued some veiled slam against the prudish woman who proposed the law change; including a suggestion that she would be participating in Halloween as a witch.
I suppose it was naïve of me to have thought that people in these positions act with decorum and grace or at the very least were polite even while being firm in their opinions. But, I am not so naïve that I believe it is any different in any other branch of government all the way up to the white house. It’s no wonder we seem to get no where when it’s clear that the folks who are supposed to be representing the people are in fact representing themselves with their own emotions and their own defensive behaviors. Imagine the world we’d have if government would just ‘grow up’.
Over the weekend D and I sat down with piles of paint chip and discussed possible colors for the house. Clearly, one of us has a problem with the number of color receptors in his or her eyes because one of us does not see colors properly… I’ll not mention which one I think that is. Regardless we did finally settle on a color. Actually, D threw his hands up and said “what ever you want dear”. Well hell honey, while you’re at it get a flat panel TV and some diamond stud earrings – hee. We are painting the house orange … yep orange … are ya skeert? It really isn’t as bad as it sounds … see?
The lighter color will be the main house and the darker will be the trim and front door. The garage door will be the lighter color because I would love to make that gigantic eyesore disappear. I figure its only paint and if we don’t like it we can always go back with the darker one. I know it’s rather loud, but firstly its Florida, loud is ok here and secondly it’s gonna fade. It’ll be ‘cream’ by January, lol. D had originally wanted to swap the colors, and have the main one be the darker of the two. I wasn’t totally opposed to that but I also wasn’t totally on the bandwagon either. The thing that pushed him back my direction was the primer. Being so dark meant primer was a must and that would double our expenses. You can guess what we’ll be up to the next few weekends.
I also finished the messenger bag I’ve been bragging on, and I’m still pretty darn proud of it. My partner’s favorite color combination is black and purple which are not the easiest two colors to photograph. But, if you are interested, there are more photo’s up on flickr. I will be making this one again; through probably in a smaller size … it’s a monster! If you filled it up you couldn’t carry it – hee! The next project is D’s costume for the 60’s Mob Party in November, which is practically upon us. I don’t know what it is about this time of year that time suddenly seems to speed up and the harder you hurry the faster it slips by. Still, I love it despite some of the sadder anniversaries it contains. I offered some advice to a friend this year, and then took it myself: “Why not celebrate the time he/she had rather than mourn the time they didn’t”. A good plan, says I, a good plan indeed.
For some strange reason I’ve been on a shoe kick lately. Yes, I’m broke but you’ll have to take my word for it these were necessary shoe purchases…well mostly. When I cycled last weekend it rained and I had some difficulty keeping my wet shoes from sliding off of the pedals. While crossing a five lane highway my left foot slipped off and I rammed the pedal into the back of my ‘bad’ leg, gouging out flesh and nearly giving myself a heart attack as I tried to regain the pedal (and my composure) and hurry my behind out of oncoming traffic. Cleated cycling shoes $70 … not piercing my leg with the pedal again, priceless. Stay tuned though, it’s been a while since I rode with cleats, there is bound to be at least one post about forgetting to ‘click out’ at a light and falling over. Oh yeah. I’ve done it. Twice, no less – it’s truly talented.
Then, while flipping channels I stumbled over a pair on the Home Shopping Channel and I swooned. Seriously. Over shoes. I haven’t swooned over shoes in years. The women in my family have terrible feet, and I didn’t miss out on that particular inheritance. Normally when I see cute shoes my response is ‘feh – can’t wear ‘em anyway’; it’s a ‘sour grapes’ kind of thing. Anyway, this is the pair that stopped my clicker finger. Let me be very clear: I’m not cool enough for red shoes, and I’ve no good excuse to order the black.. They would undoubtedly look foolish on me and I would sell a cat to own them…maybe two – we’ve got spares. This is purely a case of ‘me wants the precious’ … be sure to say that with lots of spit. I did not order them, proving that I do have a tiny amount of will power.
Next I ordered walking shoes. I wear mine daily, both for my walks and as my work shoes so I go through them pretty quickly. Believe me, if you have bad feet you replace your shoes the moment they start to break down otherwise you are visiting your Podiatrist. Mine doc also happens to be a friend, but I’d rather buy him dinner than pay an office visit to see him. While ordering my walking shoes I saw these and um these and they jumped into my shopping cart. I promised myself I’d return one and that the one I kept would replace my walking shoes as my work shoes. Does anybody believe this? Sigh, didn’t think so. I know I ordered them to satisfy my ‘want’ for the swooning pair … sorta like wanting chocolate cake and eating a carrot instead. Odds are you’ll still get caught with the cake. At least if these are comfortable they will see daily wear where as the pumps might see the light of day twice a year. With luck they wont fit and I can return both pairs and the buyers remorse as well.
Of late I have been walking three mornings a week and cycling two. I still rise at 5 on the two empty mornings…well most of them…and to occupy that hour and a half I sew. This morning I was working on the messenger bag for the swap I mentioned in yesterday’s post and I reached the bit in its construction where it began to look like its finished self. I am so pleased I’m almost giddy, and I can’t wait to go home and work on it some more. This one is a challenge; not my normal ‘can do it in my sleep’ tote. Oh no. This one is an honest to gawd messenger bag with exterior pockets and interior dividers and straps and buckles and flaps. Ya know, like something you’d buy but never dream of actually making. Best of all I’ve learned a lot from its fabrication and answered a few ‘how’d they do that?’ questions. I’d be embarrassed to admit how many actual hours I have in it, and how many of those were spend re-reading the instructions for the tenth time because it just wasn’t sinking in, but I will admit that a little crafty success is a great way to start the day, and a terrific mood enhancer.
D seems to have fought off most of the sting effects, his single Cro-Magnon eye brow has shrunk and his hives are less itchy. I’ve heard that most people who are reactive to stings become more so as they age. If that’s the case he’s going to have to get a ‘bubble’ to avoid future stings because I’m not sure I can take another round of him on epinephrine. On a normal day D has more than a few odd ticks, on ‘epi’ he’s down right wacky…think ‘three-year-old on a sugar high’ wacky. One minute he’s commenting on how poorly he feels and the next he’s contemplating bouncing on the bed while tapping on the table with a pen while whistling and rearranging the furniture. It’s no wonder he didn’t sleep well the first night he was too wound up. Hopefully there won’t be a next time but if there is you can bet I’m asking for the decaffeinated ‘epi’ or a strong dose a valium … for me – heh.
Sometime over the weekend I started on a bag for a Swap-Bot swap. I’ve had the idea, pattern and fabric on hand for a while but got the wind knocked out of my sails when I received my bag. It was so totally not what I expected and so blatantly ‘I don’t care’ that it floored me. I loaded the flickr photo out of morbid curiosity more than anything; I wanted to see if anyone had the gumption to comment on just how terrible that thing is. But you guys are far too polite for that and remained silent. The totes were to be a specific size or larger – it’s not. They were to have two pockets – she slapped a piece of muslin in it and called it a pocket. And they were supposed to be handmade … here’s a hint, remove the ‘Made in China’ sticker before you try pass something off as handmade. Evidently for $5 and a trip to Target you too could have one just like it … hopefully your iron-ons will stick.
All that being said it’s just one of the hazards of participating in a swap and sometimes you just have to look the other way … or drop the offending article in the circular file and walk away. Here’s your chance to unload: What was your worst received swap and were you brave enough to say something to the swapper?
My blood-work review was this morning and for the first time I can remember I wasn’t all the torqued over it. In fact I was sorta looking forward to the results as I expected them to be improved due to a good deal of ‘behaving’ on my part. Having completed that visit, and learned my results I’m beginning to believe my grandfather’s reluctance to visit doctors “because they’ll just find something wrong with you” was warranted. Much of what was found was expected: 80% chance that I have CREST … well DUH! My red blood cells are a little large, suggesting poor circulation … DUH again! Good cholesterol is bad, bad cholesterol is good; talented aren’t I? There’s a 95% chance I have Mixed Connective Tissue Disease, hmm, new one. And my platelet count horribly low … 122 (normal range is 140-415) … another new one, and the one that concerns him most. He feels that it indicates a liver problem, despite the fact that all other liver functions came back normal. His solution? Don’t drink for 12 weeks and run the test again.
I’ll be the first to admit that I probably drink too often, in fact I have a drink most nights … two on weekends, but I’m rather stunned to think that amount is enough to cause liver damage. I’d expect it if I were knocking back gallons of the sauce, but that simply isn’t the case. I realize that defending my drinking sounds a bit like I might have a problem, and I won’t lie and say alcoholism doesn’t run in my family, it does, but jeez … twelve weeks. That time frame covers Halloween, The 60’s Mob Party, my birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve. In other words … party season. It’s one thing to pass on wine with dinner, and another altogether to be ‘out’ at a party. Perhaps I can make farm myself out as the designated driver.
The big question is will I stick to it? In the end I suppose I must but it does make me wonder where I’ll draw the line. I already believe ‘quality’ out does ‘quantity’ but which things am I going to deem ‘quality’? As a person who is already halfway through the statement “twenty years to live” do I fret much over the things that might affect me in thirty? Do I eliminate things I enjoy like a good glass of wine in the hopes that I’ll gain a week of time? Ten years ago I would have answered yes … in my ‘outdoor voice’. Today, I’m no longer sure. As the bumper sticker says … “exercise, eat right, and die anyway”. I think I’d rather be used up and worn out when I go rather than toned and lifted. Seriously … what’s the point of looking good in your casket?
It’s been quiet out in the blogiverse, it seems like no one is writing much these days, including me. The boss is back and hopefully I am on the cusp of returning to my regularly scheduled program. I’ve missed you guys and prior to this didn’t realize how much of my online chatter is due to comments here at UfO. Sadly, this won’t be much of a comment invoking post as most of what I’ve been doing is work, and there just isn’t much to say about that.
Friday was quiet and I stayed late at work so that I wouldn’t have any to do over the weekend other than being ‘on call’. Early Saturday I cycled (16 miles – yay me!) and then D and I pressure washed the house, porches, screens, driveway and lawn furniture. Amazingly I didn’t sleep well that night and much of Sunday was spent doing nothing. Not a bad way to spend a Sunday, but I feel a little guilty about what didn’t get done (and what hasn’t been done in quite some time … like dusting-blech). Luckily it’s nearly Halloween time and I can pass the dust and cobwebs off as decoration for at least three more weeks and then I’ll be on vacation when I plan on doing some serious cleaning.
A few other odds and ends:
If you were following my costume progress the final images are up at flickr.
Rox sent me a package today marked ‘do not open ‘till Halloween, OR ELSE’ … mean, I say, just mean.
And finally, D got stung today in the forehead by something he’s evidently allergic to. The doc loaded him up with ‘epi’ and sent him home with a steroid prescription. He tried to explain to the doc that he felt like he had an ‘ice cream’ head-ache…she had no clue what he was talking about. Pain free wishes would be appreciated
I’ve always been an instant gratification girl, which explains the impressive number of things I’ve set out to learn and abandoned when I didn’t instantly master them. Baton twirling, and dressage were things I tried as a kid; I think the baton thing lasted about two weeks, much to my mother’s disgust. It was hard to be my parent, for many, many reasons and my flighty attention span was certainly one of them. Sewing and I are still fairly new friends; five or six years, and I’m hardly a master. I would say I’m only marginally good at it and yet I stick with it. The reason, I believe, is the challenge. Each project presents a different challenge, and sometimes a different skill to learn even when its something I’ve made many times before.
Take Miss Z’s costume, which I finished yesterday. My introduction to sewing was to make a costume so bodices are nothing new to me. Even when the pattern changes the basic construction remains the same. There is an instruction in every pattern I’ve used that I just didn’t get, and my practice has been to go forward on my own path until my idea of how it should be realigns itself with the instructions. On Z’s costume the light came on, and I completed my first bodice the right way. And I’m pretty darn proud of finally understanding how it should be. The overall costume is a ‘B’ and though some would argue that the imperfections are what makes handmade so endearing, I still see them as mistakes and things go be mastered. If it’s the challenge that keeps me going I say ‘sew be it’ it’s about time I stuck with something.
I should share a photo of my desk, but it is so buried in paper right now I can’t find it. Oddly, as business goes we are dead slow, so much so it’s a little unnerving. I, on the other hand, am up to my butt in alligators and it’s the phone’s fault. Every time I answer it I have to take a few moments to remember where I was and what I was doing…ah the joys of old age, har. Some of what I’m working on this week is new to me, some is old hat, and some is stuff I know how to do but isn’t generally my responsibility so I have to take a refresher to perform the task. It’s all good really, the week has flown by. I’ve always preferred to be super busy than to be bored so this week has suited me fine despite its trials (even they have been a welcome, albeit occasionally frustrating, challenge).
The weekend should be pretty average; take the dog to the vet, chores, laundry, finish a few projects and start one – painting the house. I’m doing prep work only this weekend, we haven’t decided on a color … trust me when I say that is the hardest part. I started to write a long convoluted explanation of why color choice is so difficult but decided photos would not only shorten the story but tell it better, so sometime next week I’ll revisit this topic and share the paint chips. Believe it or not, we are trying to finish the paint job prior to our last vacation of the year (mid November) so that we actually TAKE a vacation. Yeah … that’s gonna happen, lol. Regardless I’m looking forward to putting my feet up for a little bit … and maybe getting my toes painted…now that’s a vacation!
Well, its happening again, work is seriously cutting into my blogging time. I haven’t even had time to post the pictured from last nights progress on the costume for Miss Z. Ah well, such is the price we pay to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads. Today is rather blah anyway, with little to report, other-than having finally had the blood work done and being none too happy with the lab (careless, inconsiderate bunch of people). Trust me when I say ‘never have blood drawn by someone with allergies’. My arm looks like hamburger, doesn’t hurt, just looks a mess. At least it’s done … results in a few weeks, I’m sure you are all dying to know my cholesterol – hee.
In a few minutes I’ll be taking the first course on our new computer system. I believe it’s a telephone-internet kind of thing. I’m half looking forward to it (I like learning new things) and half annoyed (I’m already too far behind). It must be done though, so there is little use in moaning over it. I have a new found respect for IP folks. I don’t know where they find the patience to put up with the “It doesn’t work like the old one”, “It’s different, I don’t like it”, and other such falderal. I’ve only got three people to tolerate, and I’m well on my way to strangling at least one of them. Change just doesn’t go down well for some, and I’m not always terribly fond of it myself, but honestly, couldn’t you see it as a challenge and not a hindrance for just one day? Rant over, have a nice day – hee.
At this precise moment I feel like poo … yes poo (and don’t all you smarties jump in with the old ‘how to you know what poo feels like? question, ‘cause it’ll just get you smacked). I’m tired, and not in the way a nap will fix. I’m ‘girl’ tired, if you get my drift and the urge to trot home and go to bed is strong and it’s also so not going to happen. I realize this doesn’t seem like news, but generally I don’t have this problem or it’s nothing I can’t ignore, not so today, today I feel like poo.
This boss and AR person are on vacation, together … gasp! Ok, they’re married, turn off the cameras, but them being gone makes things a little hectic around here, so there’ll be no going home to bed (not that I actually would have anyway, I’ve got to be dying for that, it’s a pride thing). Luckily I was feeling ok over the weekend; I was just a tad unenthused and didn’t get much done. Nor did I do much relaxing, funny how that works.
In fairness I should start with D’s return home Friday evening. When I heard the car pull in I let the dog out to knock him down so I could grab the bag of fabric to greet him. Normally she’d have pined for him all week, but she went to work with me everyday last week and she was too darn tired to pine – hee. I helped him carry in his stuff so I could search for the bag of fabric, and once inside I patted him down for the fabric I welcomed him once the dog left me an opening. He didn’t just bring me the Joel Dewberry; he brought home three others as well of his own choosing … $60* worth of fabric. Gah, I wouldn’t spend that much on four yard-and-a-half cuts of fabric, I always get guilty over the first ‘nice’ cut. As it is I’ll probably hoard it away until I find the proper project for it or feel that my ability has improved enough to warrant such fine stuff. I’m still a little amazed that he did this … Oh, I bet you wanted to see…nice eh?
Saturday was all about getting up early and going to the lab for my mile long list of blood work. I sat there quite a while until they called my name only to have them inform me that they no longer take my insurance and I’d need to find another lab. Luckily they still took D’s so he was able to get his done. Hot date huh? We went to breakfast and then I went to get a hair-cut, go to the grocery store and a few other errands. By the time I got home I just wasn’t interested in anything despite knowing darn well that there were tons of things needing attention. Sometimes though it’s all about getting started so I grabbed up one of the boxes of paper in my craft room and started to file, shred or toss it as needed. Starting lent me gumption and I moved to the sewing patterns which tend to wander away from their envelopes once cut and live wildly in a drawer together. These I sorted back to their families and packed into large envelopes with the original envelope taped to the front. I cleaned out the warranty item file (could anyone explain why I feel compelled to save the instructions books that are in other languages?), tossed the pile of dog toys that were waiting to be mended, culled the bookshelf and boxed things for Goodwill. I emptied a box that I know has been sitting there over a year, fixed the door knob that has been broken for two, and tossed bags of scrap fabric that I’ve sworn I’d use for more than three. Despite still being sorely behind on the day-to-day being caught up on the ‘piles’ is very gratifying.
Sunday I finished up my unplanned cleanup of my sewing room while D worked with an electrical problem in the bathroom. About the time he finished we got a call from a friend to go see a movie, which I initially declined thinking that D was still wiring and that I would soon be tiling/grouting. When I told D about it however he was more than game to get out of the house and I’ve learned never to look that particular horse in the mouth, you just run with it. So we went off to a movie, a quick trip to Home Depot and a fast-food lunch. When we got home I laid the last five tiles but left the grouting for another time and then I started on the next sewing project, a Halloween costume for the daughter of an online-friend. I hope to be done by the end of the week if I can steal a little evening sewing time, if not, next weekend will be sewing, grouting, and the beginning of the dreaded ‘paint the house’ project (but that’s another story). Since the wearer of this costume is four (maybe five?) I thought she might get a kick out of seeing the process so I’ll be documenting each step on flickr. Admittedly I don’t remember much about being four so I could be very wrong about the attractiveness of learning how it’s made – hee. Still, it seemed like something fun to do.
So, what’d you do this weekend?
*Yes, you’ve heard me cry poor in the last few posts, and believe me I still am. D’s finances and my own are very happily separate from each other which so far has worked well for us.
D has been calling me each morning to catch me up with how he’s doing and where he’s at. Yesterday he started toward home but stopped in Tampa to get service done on his car (the nearest dealership is there). It was a planned stop, and I booked the hotel reservation some weeks ago for him. When I booked it I thought it was one we had stayed at previously; one that, as luck would have it, was two doors down from a quilting (read: fabric) store. I spoke to him after he checked in, and indeed it was the place we had stayed, and yes “Rainbow’s End” was almost next door. He mentioned this to me, as I had no intention of sending him into a fabric store, trust me when I say it’s not his bag. This morning he called a little late, but I didn’t think anything of it as I expected he might take the opportunity to sleep-in (his car won’t be ready until this evening) and he said “I’m standing in the middle of a huge – I’m even impressed – fabric store. I’ve picked out three fabrics I think you’d like … do you want anything?” Once I picked myself up off of the floor I said, ‘Joel Dewberry’ (the fabric from yesterday’s post) … I must have said it loudly because the woman helping him laughed and led him to the bolts of fabric even as he was repeating it. And, bless her, she also pointed out the Amy Butler and a few others she thought I’d like based on my choice of the Dewberry. He asked if I wanted anything else; I resisted … but with the caveat that I would never dissuade him from buying me fabric! Obviously the fates had another plan in mind when they ‘sold’ the bag I was so keen on yesterday…and oh what a wonderful plan indeed … thanks D (and thanks aliens – heh).
It is the nature of financial dry spells to be set upon with a sudden urge to shop; Murphy’s Law perhaps. The cheapest solution I know to this conundrum is to participate is a little faux internet shopping…you know, where you add items to your basket but never ‘checkout’. The difficult bit about undertaking this sort of shopping is that it never fails that you will find something you aren’t entirely sure you can live without. Luckily, for me, the fates intervened and the thing I fell for had already sold … but my, isn’t it just perfect? I could probably figure it out, but that never seems Kosher to me …. if she published the pattern, that I would certainly sell a cat to buy – heh.
The bag description includes the fabric designer’s name, Joel Dewberry, which of course I had to search for. My oh my … such sweet torture. Of course, checking my favorite online fabric source yielded not only more by this designer but also a few others, including this one. I’m not normally a novelty fabric person, but given my recent foray into knitting it cracks me up to no end. I feel just like the skeleton in the chair with the tangled mess at his feet … defeated. And the coordinating fabric, knitting needle cross-bones, hahahahaha! Oh the knitting totes I would line with that … all you knitters be afraid, be very afraid.
Hey, at least I’m cheap to entertain.
Yesterday I was going to share with you the details of the dreaded letter, but day sort of got away from me. So now I need to tell the letter’s tale as well as a few other happenings to catch, which means a ‘parted’ post.
Part One: The letter…
I am sure you are familiar with ‘financial dry spells’. Those generally brief belt-tightening periods caused by a big purchase or unexpected expense. Well, I’ve been in one for about a month now and I expect it to last one or two more months. My dry spell did not come as a surprise; I knew full well it was on the way. I purchased a new truck with a slightly higher payment, and a hungrier gas tank. I knew my car insurance was due October first. What I didn’t expect was a tripling of my health insurance costs … to the tune of $100+ per paycheck. No big deal just pack a few lunches, make a few less trips to the fabric store, and maybe sell a few things on Esty for ‘fun money’, but no panic.
That is until the dreaded letter arrived. In truth it wasn’t unexpected; I’ve known about it since I purchased my house over 13 years ago, but I didn’t know when it would arrive. If you looked at the big flickr photo you know the letter is about the installation of a new sewer and irrigation line in my area (I am already on city water). You also know, by looking at the bottom right corner that the average cost for the last ‘zone’ was about ten-grand. That, my friend is a big load of propaganda by the city … the actual average is around $24,000 / household, and that does not include paying someone to condemn your old septic tank and make the final connections to the new city line. There is time (maybe 18 months), and there are plenty of financing options … but now there is also just the tiniest shred of panic.
Part Two: The email…
Not too long ago I shared a photo of two tote bags I made for D’s step-mom and step-sister. Those bags are now in their new home and yesterday I received an email from the sister thanking me, but pointing out that her niece’s nose was rather out of joint because I failed to send one to her. I’ve met these folks once, and accepted no money for the bags. I don’t mind making one for the niece, but I was not asked to do so when the original bag request came in. For the record D & I haven’t had a single e-mail, Christmas card, or phone call since our visit in ’06 until the bag request. The whole thing makes me feel a little ‘grrrr’ … petty, right?
Part Three: The swap…
One of the swap-bot swaps I participated in was for a ‘needle book’. I was pleased with the one I made, but I forgot to share it with you, so here are photos:
Part Four: The doctor’s office…
Yesterday I saw my regular doc for a wellness check up. For some reason he decided to do a baseline EKG which determined that I have an ‘electrical delay’ in the right ventricle of my heart. This is either a defect I’ve had for sometime or the beginning of some of the nastier things CREST can do. That three page blood-work request has been upped by about a page … they’d be better off if they’d just hang a bag…sigh.
Part Five: The note…
Dear Godiva Chocolate,
Thanks to my new friend Laurie I had the pleasure of trying your Chocoiste Dark Chocolate Pearls with Mint, and a screaming (wonderful) pink pair of Halloween socks but those have nothing to do with you. The ‘pearls’ are deeply intense; with just the right amount of mint … divine really. I do however have a suggestion for the improvement of your product. For the love-of-gawd quit packing them in the convenient Calista Flockhart Serving Tic-Tac Tin. If you can show me the waif who happily carries these in her purse for weeks on end without tipping the whole thing into her mouth at once I will not only be amazed, but I will likely beat her repeatedly about her airy head for being so waif-like. Seriously.
Sincerely,
Shan
ps many thanks Laurie