There I sat yesterday afternoon assuming the all too familiar position: laptop atop my lap, legs crossed ankle over ankle stretched across a perfectly sized miniature version of a sofa we call a loveseat; positioned tangentially in front of my bay window to the world as it streamed sunshine through the glass, confused as to how brightly it wanted to penetrate the room.
The strange whir of the mail truck stopped suddenly outside my home. Normally, I would be excited about this sudden cessation of putter but I knew my husband was expecting a package consisting of a not-so-exciting computer battery thing-a-majig so I continued my own puttering amidst the keyboard keys without skipping a beat. The heavy thump of a package being plopped down on our front porch signaled Hubby to come bounding down the stairs. He opened the door, noticed it was not his much anticipated package, and responded with, "Are you expecting a package? It smells like...coffee?"
|Take a look at that coffee bean t-shirt - love it!|
I have, still, another tale to tell; one of tragedy and despair. My latest giveaway didn't go so well and, to be completely honest, it was doomed from the start. I posted a Going Local article, click here to read it, and was thrilled to hear the owners of the shop were willing to donate a little something from their shop as a giveaway prize to one of my lucky readers. I was so excited when I went to go pick-up their offer as I was convinced it would be one of their gourds they are so famous for selling.
I arrived and was
|Handmade mugs by Jewel Pottery|
Dear readers, do you accept my apology?