IT'S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS
Today, I purchased a wedding gift at Wakefield-Searce Galleries (www.wakefieldscearce.com) in Shelbyville, Kentucky. It's a wonderful place full of unique antiques and Kentucky-esque items that absolutely fascinate me to my core.
Wandering around in there a few weeks back, I discovered a unique gift for an upcoming wedding I was suppose to be attending (still waiting on that elusive closing date), and because I am just that devoid of any sort of creativity, I ran back there today to purchase the thing before someone else, equally as inept at gift-giving, snapped it up.
The sales associate at Wakefield-Searce Galleries was kind enough to ask if I'd like my purchase gift wrapped, and, because I am just that lazy, I smiled sweetly and replied, "Why that would be just loooovely."
Yes, I have turned into a southern belle with a northern accent. Don't judge!
My photo does not at all do it justice, but it is the most beautifully wrapped package with thick, frosty white paper and a mound of frothy ribbons. Why, it looks like a miniature weddin' cake, ya'll! Almost good enough to eat!
I hated putting it into my flat rate box because I know that, once inside the confines of our United Postal Service, all hell will break loose, and it may just arrive at its intended destination wrapped in worn and smudged Dilbert comics and smelling of old tennis shoe.
Wandering around in there a few weeks back, I discovered a unique gift for an upcoming wedding I was suppose to be attending (still waiting on that elusive closing date), and because I am just that devoid of any sort of creativity, I ran back there today to purchase the thing before someone else, equally as inept at gift-giving, snapped it up.
The sales associate at Wakefield-Searce Galleries was kind enough to ask if I'd like my purchase gift wrapped, and, because I am just that lazy, I smiled sweetly and replied, "Why that would be just loooovely."
Yes, I have turned into a southern belle with a northern accent. Don't judge!
My photo does not at all do it justice, but it is the most beautifully wrapped package with thick, frosty white paper and a mound of frothy ribbons. Why, it looks like a miniature weddin' cake, ya'll! Almost good enough to eat!
I hated putting it into my flat rate box because I know that, once inside the confines of our United Postal Service, all hell will break loose, and it may just arrive at its intended destination wrapped in worn and smudged Dilbert comics and smelling of old tennis shoe.
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