When we were in Minnesota for Thanksgiving, I had a great baby shower with family and friends. As soon as we got home, I picked up some thank you notes and went to the nearest post office for stamps. It happens to be a university mail department, so while it has most everything I need on a regular basis, there are some gaps. I asked for some Christmas stamps (preferably the Madonna and Child), and the student behind the counter came back with the only stamps he could find: Harry Potter. I bought them anyway, and it wasn’t until I started putting them on envelopes that I realized what a bizarre fit they were for the material. At least the colors match my envelopes:
Still haven’t decided who gets Snape.
Let’s stay on the mail theme for a minute. Anyone who’s mailing Christmas gifts should pay attention here; this could change everything.
I’ve been looking for creative packaging to use for my photo clients, and while I’ve been dreaming about this packaging since I found it, I don’t quite ship at a volume to justify those supply purchases. It’s surprisingly hard to find cute, creative boxes in a size small enough for just a flash drive, so I found myself at Staples yesterday, buying the smallest shipping boxes they had.
I wandered a few aisles over, and found a display of 3M Expressions tape. They had a huge selection of different patterns and sizes, so I picked up two roles that match my color scheme. They really, really did a great job of dressing up my plain white box. In fact, I’m now looking for excuses to ship EVERYTHING. 3M, if you would like to sponsor my tape habit, you wouldn’t regret it, but I may just die and go to heaven.
Johnny says that there are two kinds of lawyers: those whose practice of the law makes them really litigious, and those who become averse to personally suing anyone ever (the expense, the paperwork, oy). Luckily for us, he falls into the latter camp, but I came across a story this week about a lawyer who’s…just a little litigious. It caught my eye because it involves a wedding photographer being sued by a groom/lawyer who was dissatisfied with his photos. Read it, be incredulous, and then enjoy the just desserts at the end. We certainly did.
I’ve had a really successful couple weeks of trying out new recipes. Here are a few we’ll be making again:
Chicken and asparagus stir fry: We had this last night. I subbed in green beans and a few mushrooms because asparagus was $5/lb. Next time, I’d thicken the sauce with a little cornstarch, but it was good as-is.
Pork chops with mushroom gravy: Very quick and easy. Great with brown rice and a green vegetable.
Balsamic glazed London broil: Also quick and easy (and the steak was on sale!). We turned it into sandwiches.
Baked apple french toast: I used bread I had on hand (not whole-grain), less sugar than it called for, and added pecans to the top. That said, it’d be really good as written.
Adventures in the Self-Checkout Lane: The automated voice wasn’t quite on top of my citrus purchase, and instructed me to “Place your. NAVEL. on the belt.”
Earlier this week, I started putting music into a Spotify playlist, thinking that it’s just possible I might want to take it to the hospital with me when the time comes (and if not, I’d only have wasted 20 minutes of playlist creation). Then I actually went back and listened to what I had put together, and holy commericals, Batman! I knew there would be some, but I hadn’t used Spotify for a while, and I didn’t remember it being so bad. Every other song was punctuated with a double-volume, three-commercial break of hiphop advertisements. Given that my chosen playlist was mostly convent polyphony and chant, this was jarring, to say the least. So, now I’m deciding whether to pony up $9.99 for a month of Premium, or just buy the CDs and make a real playlist.
Does 31 weeks count as “almost done”? To my coworkers, it seems to. I’ve noticed a definite uptick in encounters like the following:
Coworker comes into my office, where I’m wearing mostly non-maternity clothes and feeling like I look pretty cute today. Coworker peers over my half-wall and says, “Wow, you’re really…out there.”
At this point, I’m ready to bake cookies for the woman who keeps telling me that I don’t even look pregnant from behind (also an exaggeration, but at least it errs on the right side).
Happy weekend to all! Enjoy your Gaudete Sunday!
Linking up with Kelly et al.