Obviously, not only do I have no false modesty about this, I'm exceedingly proud of it. If I know you well, I know what you'd like, and I remember when gifting time comes. I'm also unstingy: I'm as happy to spend money on frivolities for you as for myself.
Why this grandiose outburst and why now, you ask? Well, my wife's birthday is this week (and she never reads my blog). And even though I will not be finishing her hat (or even restarting it), she's going to be really happy with her gifts. The latest Carl Hiassen is out in paperback (and I just realized that I got it for the same price at Target as the Amazon discounted price--hah), and she is getting posters from a couple of shows we saw at the Belly Up in the past couple of years. I blogged about one last Thanksgiving. She'll be totally surprised, and think they're totally cool, and want to put them up in her office at work. The anticipation makes me giddy--I'm hoping I can pick them up in time to get them framed, maybe in Mexican silver frames.
Addendum: I'll be giving her these posters if I can manage to raise the vendor. Grrr.
Addendum the second: Guy came through, they're cool, I'm excited through my crabbiness.
My dad's birthday is also this week, and he's getting the promise of some scrumptious pork-burgers the next time I see him. He'll be nearly as happy with that as Jane will be with the posters, and way happier than if I buy him some best-seller or a golf shirt.
Jane's dad's birthday is in a month, and he's getting a personalized crossword puzzle, created by yours truly. I need to get to work on this...
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