I'm a horrible giver when it comes to birthdays and Christmas. Just ask my friends - if it isn't in the immediate vicinity of my birthday (which is obviously the only important date in my little world), I forget details. This comes from a childhood of birthdays in early March (me - 2nd, sister - 4th) or early October (Mom - 5th, Dad - 7th, baby bro - 10th) - sorry, Big Bro (May 6th) - even you are not immune at times, it seems. Throw in late October, September, December, and January for inlaws and kids, and I'm all out of whack. I even married a guy with a close birthday (March 4th) - probably because I knew that's the only way I'd remember it. I'm such a loser.
But my friend...? My awesome, caring, giving, heart-so-big-it-could-fill-all-the-internet tubes...?
She remembers. She sends gifts. She sends lovely, beautiful, obsession-worthy gifts...
That's about 400 yards of hand-spun, hand-dyed Bluefaced Leicester, my friends. And It's. All. Mine.When I first saw a package in my mailbox, I was all like...
...and when I opened the package, I was all like...
Thank you, sweetie. I love you!
2 comments:
Aww, shucks! I'm just sorry all Joe got was a text message with a promise of a bottom pinch. I wanted to send him something home-brewish, but didn't know enough to know what is easy or hard to find...!
Heeee!
<3 the kitteh pics!
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