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wrestling with hiccups, pennings and a blankie...

a few hiccups in the proceedings this week. not the sort of hiccups which cause you to be driven insane and drink lots (water that is) but nice hiccups involving lovely folks and my book pennings.

one of my hiccups involved a pottle around Goodwill in the big city with Marjan. upon pottling i came across a lovely peachy blanket for the even lovelier sum of $3. i exclaimed to Marjan this blanket had 'little olive' written all over it. arriving home to my shed i washed said peachy blanket and laid it on the couch.


as soon as i had done so, i was overcome with little blanket lust, i wished to keep my newly found blanket to myself and not share it with Little Olive. such was my wanting for the blanket, i hid it from Little Olive less she see its yarny beauty and become attached. this morning however i have given myself a stern talking to about Little Olive's need being greater than mine (how i came to that conclusion is beyond me as we all know, the little doggie has more crocheted blankets than any other doggie i know) but still i did.





my pennings are all starting to come together and tomorrow my man is taking me to work with him. it is not 'take your woman to work' day, rather because he had a bright idea as i sat in bed this morning in the early hours explaining my inability to visualize what i had written in a book form.
(i said this in a 'nutshell' to you, but to him it was very long winded and fretfully worded, and i note his head was under a pillow for most of my long winded fretting)
so he suggested i come to his work place and print off all my pennings and then read them as if they were a book, therefore i would have a better idea of whether indeed i had repeated myself on several occasions, where gapping big holes of important pennings were missing and perhaps as he also suggested, i may actually say to myself, "blimey Tif, despite your doubting ways, you hold a book in your hand"

this is terribly thrilling, for i have never been and sat in his office at work, due to allergies bought on by corporate work spaces but it will be fine and dandy for i shall be sure to take my allergy medicine an hour before i arrive.

i am wondering if it would be nice of me to bring a sack lunch for us, a marmalade sandwich for him and chocolate spread on ryvita for me. i think i failed to mention this little detail before, but i have given up white toast this new year and in its place i now have ryvita. it is not far off cardboard but when butter and Cadbury's chocolate spread is a top, it becomes edible. i would have to sandwich two ryvitas together to avoid chocolate spread getting all over his marmalade sandwich but it would be quite a nice moment of sharing.

on second thoughts, perhaps i should keep his marmalade sandwich hidden until the point where he is driven nutso by my
"i can't find my documents on this little usb thingy, oh my lord, i have lost my book! it is gone, GONE forever... this is a tragedy, one of epic proportions. where for art thou my book"
all the time my voice rising in panic levels, drawing attention from the other folks in their little offices across the way, four walls and artificial lighting. then when i get to the point where he is ready to say
"look why don't you go home to the shed and i'll sort it"
with an exasperated look upon his face accompanied by another grey hair.
i will rustle around in my large bag, unearthing crochet, car keys, purse, my lost sanity and volia! a marmalade sandwich :)

suddenly all will be forgiven, in that instant he will forget my disabilities with computers, my inabilities to stay calm and focused and transport himself back to 25 years ago when we first met and he fell for my... well actually i do not know what he fell for, but he must have fallen for something to have stayed around so long.

yes, that is what i shall do, i will use the marmalade sandwich as a peace offering within what is bound to be a fiasco of me trying to locate and print off folder after folder of random pennings and piece them into a book where upon i will sit in his spare swivelly chair and insist i read it all out loud, where upon my man in his swivelly chair will quietly place his head upon his desk, marmalade sandwich slightly out of reach and silently weep


she is now quite giddy about tomorrow and wondering if she should change out her large bag for a very 'important businessy looking' corporate brief case ~ Tif
 

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