avram | Where is it?

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All right, where is that block of watercolor paper? You know the one — Arches, hot press, 9" x 12", 140 lb paper, 20 sheets? Come on, nobody’s logging off till I’ve got that paper back.

OK, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll sleep my monitor for one minute, and whoever took the watercolor block can put it back on my living room table, no questions asked. All right?

Current Mood: pissed off
Current Music: "Industrial Disease", Dire Straits

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

holyoutlaw.livejournal.com

(scurry scurry scurry) (rustle rustle) (noises off) (bang clatter) "OW!" "Quit it." "Ssshhhhh! He'll hear you!" "Right. Who's got it then?" "I thought you did." "I thought YOU did." "No, I never." "Urg. Right then. Check your pockets." "My pockets are never big enough!" "Just kidding! We'll have to go back and get it. Quietly!" (scurry scurry scurry) (fading) "OW!" "Quit it!" (rustle rustle)

From:

maureenkspeller.livejournal.com

When you guys have finished putting the paper back, would you step around here and put back those two soup spoons that went missing out of here a while back. I wouldn't mind but they're part of a set and I can't replace them.

Actually, is this the place to tell the spooky story about my pendant? It's a silver cat in a silver ring, with an outer ring of bluish titanium ... cat on a moon in a sky. Years ago, I lost the outer ring. I thought I lost it in London rather than at home and I never expected to see it ever again.

Only, about three months ago, while I was cleaning in the bedroom, I found the outer ring lying in a dish on a bookshelf. I have no idea how it got there. It hadn't been there a week or two earlier when PK dusted the shelves, and it's not as though the room hasn't been cleaned occasionally over the years. We're not even sure we were in this house when I lost the ring. So how come it reappeared?

M.

From:

holyoutlaw.livejournal.com

"The spoons!"
"What spoons?"
"In the circus -- Fred and Jeremy leap from the soup can arm in arm, and they land on the bowl of the spoon and Sylvia is tossed into the air and catches the string."
"Oh those spoons!"
"Well, where are they?"
"What?"
"THE SPOONS!"
"In the circus just like you said."
"No, they've gone."
"What? The spoons?"
"YES!"
"Where've they gone?"
"That's what I'm asking!"

etc. Vaudeville. It never ends.

From:

maureenkspeller.livejournal.com

You know, I really like your version a lot better than the prosaic possibility that someone tossed them out by mistake.

M.

From:

redbird

I'd assume Snufkin had stolen it, and then forgot all about it for a while.

But our household policy is to blame the cat for everything. (She used to share blame with the failed Giuliani administration, but that one has fallen out of use since he's finally out of office.)

From:

maureenkspeller.livejournal.com

Except that I lost it pre-Snufkin. We blame Snufkin for a lot of things but I suspect it might not be fair in this case.

He tried to jump out of the skylight in my study last night, I think because it was there, and open. It was a night for trying out high places, inconveniently narrow places, not terribly accommodating places, bits of bookshelf, 'hey, look where I've got to now' places. And the skylight. I rugby-tackled him before he got too far.

M.