However, she does so with restraint, since the fault of the matter lies at her feet. Disappointment often comes disguised as someone else's fault. She knows this now, and she freely admits to having made a mistake in one of her "oh, what the heck" moments. This one came about after she quickly chose to purchase something she didn't need, over adding it to the site's Wish List. Why take a chance when the morrow is promised to no one. Yes, she knows that sounds about as lame as an old boyfriend's "if it feels good do it" attempt at persuasion. But, sometimes, any excuse will do. So, she ordered the thing she did-not-need-but-wanted. And she has regrets.
This last alphabet postcard from Flow was earmarked for a journal page. It was meant to be a keeper/souvenir. I parted with it instead. It's interesting how the colors match my new/oldish reading glasses. No matter. I let it go with a peaceful heart.
Three of my new blues grace a single envelope. I panicked and ordered more! May I never run out unless I deliberately choose not to restock.
I am a fan of letterpress. Theses have been hoarded for too long, so another was set free in today's mail run. I'd collected a small jar full of jasmine flowers, claimed the lost feather, and the washi tape seemed to be the perfect part of a trio. Snap went the shutter! Apple did the letterpress and printing.
The paper's texture is unlike any other. I often paused too long with nib on page, and the message I penned is dotted with little blue soaks. I didn't mind it at all. The little bee on the envelope was a strong selling point, not that the design needed it.
I did not find these growing or drying in my studio. I left them there to keep the cats from destroying any moveable parts. These two are the sole survivors of this year's non-gardening attempt. They also happen to be the tiniest gourds I've ever grown. Surely you can imagine the possibilities that might be in store. If, and this is a big if, but if I remove the cap, and snug a letter inside, there's a sealing wax that will take care of any privacy issues. Oh, the things one can learn on the Internet! I see a mama doll and a baby doll . . . And some other good gourd possibilities hovering just above my head.
Seven letters and one postcard went out today! Oh, yay! Eight pieces of mail came in for me! What an even exchange, excluding one piece of junk and a credit card bill. I gotta tell you. My appetite often needs work 'cause it's often MIA, but after I sat in the post office parking lot and read two letters, I drove clean across Katy to my favorite pizza parlor, and ordered a spinach pizza! I was just that hungry. Three letters from Catherine! Wow. Was she on a roll. Thank you, Catherine and Randall (two from you!)! A three-pager from Lynda, and two in reserve . . . Who could ask for anything more? More came anyway! I must wait to tell you about the manila envelope. Really, I must. The lighting has to be just right and I have to drool over it a little longer, but I showed it to the pizza lady! She was almost as excited as I was, and give me unsolicited suggestions . . . Enough! I almost let it slip. My lip zip is fully engaged. Thank you, Mrs. Duffy. Now, that's all I'm saying.
Heck, I'm so excited I almost forgot to feel regret. But seeing as how I'm a woman of my word most of half the time . . . here goes.
A package was delivered today.
Now you know what to expect, right?
All the little internal bits were in place.
And there was this. The other molded space was empty. Annoying.
Why doesn't it look like brass here???
It looks like stainless steel, doesn't it?
It feels like brass. Smells like it too.
And I don't even like brass. I taste brass when I touch it. I used to shine Daddy's military brass. I took such pride in making everything shine. My sister pretended not to know how, and always made a mess of it. Was I born slow? I know I was born after her, but still. She wore out that excuse growing up, and it wasn't until she drove me to therapy that I realized--on my own--her ruse worked just as she'd intended. She Tom Sawyered me! I hate Brasso to this very day.
No, my regret isn't all about the brass, it's about the size of the thing. It is 3 3/4" with the cap on. Uncapped with cap screwed on it's a whopping 5"! Yes! Size matters. Even if you're out in the field. And who uses a fountain pen in the field? That's what pencils and ball points are for! Does anyone know how to get rid of the brassy taste? Ugh. I refuse to shine it. Ever. There will be no Brasso in this house, just as there were no plastic coat hangers in Joan Crawford's. Or were they wire? I so dislike wire hangers. They leave nipples in your clothes. I know! I can wear photographer's cotton gloves when I use my new pen. See? Two heads are better than one. I've expressed my regrets. Is time to move on.
This is me moving on . . .