or the adventures of she who waits
I like to keep busy, turn my hand to something and move from one task to another. I like to sit and read too, but there’s a limit to being static for periods of time, particularly if Time itself is on you tail, then repeated exercise becomes even more of an essential.
I’ve been post box watching for weeks, so you can guess from the above that this is not my favourite ‘sport’. Do you ever find that non-activity sends your daily-doings into a sort of hypnotic state and very little gets done? I’m becoming blanked by the waiting and only come to life at the sight of the post van arriving in our lane. A little similar to the times you send off a job application and almost hold your breath with the waiting.
Enough of that
Still sitting under the letterbox for mini things and, as the waiting has lost its magic, I reckon if I make the things that haven’t arrived (and I’ve contacted the sellers but had no response) then the post van will most certainly bring them to my door tomorrow 🙂
And so I have now rustled up homemade substitutes.
In the meantime, in order to shake of some of this lassitude, I’m starting something else and a very loud raspberry from me to the missing items.
Added little things here and there and still finding a few more items in the painting that I’d never noticed before which I may or may not add.
Some of the newly made bits still drying – leaves etc – and thinking of adding a light under the table to throw some up the back wall
It certainly needs more light.
Gone for the ‘let it all hang out’ look for at least three reasons …
one of which is the reflection problem from glass or acetate, another is I can angle the table into the back right corner and bring the napkin corner closer …
and the the third is the putting the framing on with the table in situ problem which I’ve moaned about before. This way, if I make the dark mount surround from stiffer card, I should be able to put the table in after the frame has been attached.
Lots of waiting still going on
Meanwhile, the whole village is waiting for some resolution to a river difficulty and a danger of flooding (again). More news on that front when there is any.
Some items have arrived through the magic letterbox; my passport for instance. Recently everything ran out at once; passport, driving licence; stick a pin in it and its time was up.
A wee warning to any short, follicly challenged folk
Passport online application is a hoot as the system automatically assesses whether the photo is acceptable or not. After four photos from different sources were refused for lack of clarity as to where person ends and background begins, we went on the trail of yet another photo machine but one that generates reference numbers. You can get them with a code that is printed on the sheet of mini photos which can then be entered in the online forms for a passport, telling the system which photo booth holds the digi info. I’d already tried two of the recommended new machines but, after being fed money they didn’t give code numbers after all, and the images, scanned, were dismissed by the online system once more. Despite the fact that the machine we finally found looked identical to the others and it kept giving me messages thhat it didn’t ‘think’ the photos being taken would meet requirements (yes, it used the same image software program for detecting where the head shape ends), it did print out a code and after feeding the magic number to the online form, hey presto, the passport was with me within five days! I had the odd thought that I’d receive a document with someone else’s pic, but all was OK. One thing all the machines did have in common is that the seat in the booth did not adjust enough or even safely for those of us of limited height! What a joke being judged by a machine because you can’t get your head within the required egg-shaped markers or guide lines and can’t balance on the wibbly wobbly stool enough to be sufficiently still. Sheesh!
The driving licence is another matter. Suffice it to say, because they’d input my postcode wrongly when they went digital and I couldn’t fill in the form without lying through my teeth (on the advice of someone on the end of the phone at DVLA) about where I lived and for how long I went back to the paper form. Why does it need renewing? Because of age, and, it seems, it has to be renewed every three years after that. Always assuming they’ll renew mine this time that is … still waiting.
Still it rains
But never mind, on with new things 🙂