Do you ever wish for something--just idly think "I wish they made xyz so I wouldn't have to." Then find it or have it come to you soon after? Do you like origami? I do. Erin and I learned how to make folded paper creations when we lived in Colorado. She was much better at it though.
Any how . . . I wanted something different in the way of stationery and envelopes. Origami came to mind when I had to improvise folding a letter to fit an envelope. I thumbed through my origami book, sighed, and thumbed some more. Now, sighing delivers more oxygen to my brain cells. The more oxygen, the more ideas. Right? I mean, an idle mind is supposed to be the Devil's playground. Or so "they" say. So, I make sure mine is always busy, since an idle limner's mind is more like a mine field. Don't ask me to explain.
Now, all those little folded paper creations were more like rich lodes of creative potential. When potential knocks, I open the door. I did some folding and refolding until I had a prototype. Then I did some enlarging. By now, some of you have gotten at least a sample of the end results. Encouraged . . . I'm only guessing the first batch made it, since Patty is the only one to tell me so; and since none have come back to bite me, I got down to business.
Can you imagine why I chose this particular 12 X 12 sheet of scrapbooking paper for an envelope? I know you know why, but I'll say it any way. I like how the edges remind me of a postage stamp. If that's not a cosmic hint-whisper-nudge, saying that a giant stamp would make a great envelope, too, then I don't know what is. So, I commenced to folding! The one problem? It's so pretty I can't let go of it just yet.
Backing up a bit . . . Two days after wishing "they" made origami stationery, I heard a whisper, "Go to Barnes & Noble, girl. Just go." And I did. Imagine my hair-standing-up-on-the-nape-of-my-neck delight upon seeing my wish-come-true, not even seven minutes after I walked in out of the heat, and into the cool. It lay there, waiting for me . . . A box of ORIGAMI Stationery.
There's more to this tale. It is trying so hard to morph into a giveaway, so stay tuned . . .
Everything happens for a reason. There are no accidents. Nothing is random. So, when I was being discharged after thyroid surgery, I
wondered silently questioned the nurse's decision to send me home with a suture removal kit; gauze included. Like I was ever going to remove anything from my neck--especially if I had to use something sharp. Sharp and Limner do not play well together. I didn't complain. I didn't ask "Are you for real?" or "Removal by the surgeon isn't included with this surgery package?" I simply watched as Erin took the kit and packed it away inside my bag. Blame it on the Demerol.
Several days ago I mailed a little monkey to someone. I've been buying a lot of little monkeys lately. I've also been listening to "I'm the proudest monkey . . ." on my iPod and iPhone a super lot. Don't you just like that song? I also made a postcard with a monkey that makes me proud that I can read. I'll give it to someone when I can bear to. But . . . Well, have a look.
Ain't he cute? Looks like he was born to fit that gauze container, huh? He left last week. Oh. He's meant to hold a photo, or a note, or a memo, or something. Some things are just ideal.
Then there's Ufie.
He flew in recently. I think he's here to stay.