Friday, June 23, 2017

People Are Talkin'

People are talkin'? Heck, I'm talkin'! Something's wrong. I sent a box out into the world naked. All that white space wasted. 

I left four packages unfinished, unwrapped, unaddressed . . . 

Talk about a paper trail? I left a messy trail in my wake that tells a sorry tale. The photo boxes will eventually hold archived mail from pen friends. I just stacked them there for a minute while I went through a stash . . .

This, my friends, i proof. Unadulterated proof that it's not always my fault that paper messes happen. I was sorting, making keeper and toss 'em stacks, when   the   phone   rang. 

As you can see, there's so much good stuff here that requires careful thought and consideration. It needs time. I need time. A body cannot zip through everything, and tossing valuable paper product all willy-nilly is like a sin or something. It just needs a little more attention . . .

I discovered these by chance. I do like a terrarium, don't you? Have you ever spelled a word correctly but checked the dictionary anyway, just to be on the safe side? I tend to do it more often as I age, this second guessing. 

And there's this! I spent a lot of time hunting all the elements, and it took even more time--time I'll never recoup, to adhere them in place. And those stamps . . . Two of my favorites from the USPS and two of the best artist stamps ever discovered in Archiver's, gone to . . . Well, not gone to waste, but the address label will be a total wash if I cannot come up with a clever way to save it. It's been all tarted up for a once-upon-a-time pen friend who declined to continue our penfriendship. *sigh* I wish us all Good Fortune.

Are all British bakers as nice, polite, helpful, and considerate as the ones on "The Bread British Baking Show?" Surely they're Canadians disguised as Brits? I can't write for watching. It's the Dampfnudel episode, and the next bake is braiding bread. What's her name is making an ark. When questioned about there being one elephant, she replied as seriously as a heart attack, "They had a fight you see." In answer to "Where's the other dove?" she said, "Well, it's flown off you see." I want her to win. I do, I do, I do! Her story about her poor childhood and her loving father buying them ice cream cones now they're adults, 'cause he couldn't when they were young made my eyes swim. Val's her name! She just burned a finger. The animals went in two by two! That's it! Do you know it? I like that Andrew too. Paul is such a flirt. And I've forgotten what this post is meant to be about. 

Moving on down this road . . .

These liners are over eleven years old. Okay, to be fair so is the envelope. I made them when we lived at the old house, and I had two pen friends:  One in Rhode Island, the other in Japan. Who you callin' a hoarder? It just saved itself for the right person!

People are talking' about this too. But it can wait. 

May all your mail be to your liking.


  1. Oh my goodness. We have matching sofas. Only yours look new and spiffy and mine are...well...not new and spiffy. One of mine has an ink stain on it actually. I think I should take pride in that :)

  2. Really??? LOL. Ours isn't new or spiffy either. It's at least ten years old! Your ink stain is proof of having been lived on. :) So yes, there's pride in that.

    1. Maybe mine will look spiffier in a picture. I don't know if the ink will wash off as I haven't tried to remove it. I feel an iron gall ink splotch makes a statement. I'm just not sure what it's saying.... :)

  3. LOL. Try a picture and I'll share a picture of my favorite chair. That ink has the gall to linger? Wel,l I never! Or . . .wait . . . perhaps it wants de-ciphering first? :)