Oh, and this is what happens when you have a cheese platter in Hong Kong. A lesson for us all.
Back to my point. You see I have a thing for ribbons. Not that I ever wore one in my hair as a kid growing up, unlike my sister, who's ribbons were meticulously tied and tied and tied again by my poor mother until they, much like her plaits, her knee high socks and entire bedroom, were nothing short of perfect. Me being the angel that I was, ahem, never worried about perfection as a child. Footloose and fancy-ribbon-free, that was me. It seems, however, that as the years are ticking by, I am rapidly making up for lost time in the ribbon department (perhaps in the perfection department also, but that is a whole other post).
I now have a whole drawer full of them, a very deep, wide drawer in fact. And I have ribbons in every different shade you could imagine, in little cane baskets. And every time I open that drawer and pick out the perfect ribbon to match the paper for whatever gift it is I'm about the wrap, I get the greatest feeling of satisfaction. And to top it all off, I've also collected a stash of cards as well. Birthday cards, new baby cards, get well soon cards etc etc. The joy of knowing that you don't have to go to the store to buy wrapping, paper, ribbon or a card is difficult to rival in my books. I am a sad old Tai Tai aren't it? Martha would be proud.
So today, while lapping up the aftermath of one this century's most mammoth occasions, I am also grateful that such a little thing in life, can give me almost as much satisfaction.
Linking up with Maxabella today.