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I was reorganizing the cutlery (fascinating, I know), when I came across a very pretty set of chopsticks. They're dark wood sticks, with squared-off grips in silver.
I dug out a soft white cloth, my bottle of silver polish, and set to removing the tarnish.
Ah, this is one inheritance that won't fly. There are monogrammed initials in the silver. Back into the black velvet bag they went, along with the silver rest. There's now a plastic bag full of Ex Odds and Ends, hanging on a hook of the hall tree.
At least my silverware drawer is neat and tidy, and the glass dishes my mom gave me are all washed and dried and stacked upin the cupboard.
There simply aren't enough hours in the day.
I dug out a soft white cloth, my bottle of silver polish, and set to removing the tarnish.
Ah, this is one inheritance that won't fly. There are monogrammed initials in the silver. Back into the black velvet bag they went, along with the silver rest. There's now a plastic bag full of Ex Odds and Ends, hanging on a hook of the hall tree.
At least my silverware drawer is neat and tidy, and the glass dishes my mom gave me are all washed and dried and stacked upin the cupboard.
There simply aren't enough hours in the day.
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I'd rather find my own fancy set, actually. :) These belong to the ex, and I don't mind giving them back to him.
But, it was a slightly tempting thought!
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I used to teach that to my speech team students, actually. I'd have them ask me about anything I had on my person, and I'd tell a story. It was a way to show them how to improvise about anything - whether they forget their lines, have to cover up a huge flub in their speech or scene, or create an impromptu/extemporaneous speech on a topic with which they're not so familiar.
I told an epic story about a green backpack once.
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luv,
Moonie =]
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Are we ... are we turning into grownups??