Copyright 2007 Maggie Stiefvater.
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Today, because I love my daughter, and because we just moved into our new house, I finally decided to assemble the play kitchen she got for Christmas. One of those nice, wooden jobbies from Grandpa, that had been carefully hidden so that we wouldn't have to move a gigantic kitchen once we had taken it out of the box.
Well, I have to tell you, four blisters, one headache, and exactly three swear words later (all used as adjectives, I'm afraid), that I miss those instructions that actually used words instead of universal images. You know, I open the instructional paper up and find a sheet of suggestive pictograms, arrows pointing just what to stick where. I was stuck studying each wooden slab and wondering if this unmarked piece was really B or if it was possibly D -- I mean, they both had little hole thingies sort of the same places . . but just different enough to really get you into trouble should you swap them.
So I opened up the little screw baggies (aptly named, my friends, aptly named) and got to work, only to discover that I was using the wrong screws for the first five steps. How was this possible? Well, because the directions indicated I should use the R screws, I was mistakenly using the screws from the baggy marked R. instead of using the screws from the unmarked baggy. An obvious error on my part! But I soon realized there were R screws and then there were R sub 1 screws, which was virtually impossible to see in the size 2 font the instructions were printed in. Tell me just one thing. Are there not 26 letters in the alphabet? Could they not have named them something other than R and R with a milimeter high 1 next to it?
Stupid kitchen. All I can say is she better to pretend to cook and slave away in it for hours at a time.
Anyway. So I wanted to show you a photo of Horses of Roan on my new mantle, so you can get a better idea of what it looks like in context. And I wanted to give a mention to all my Sargent blogging buddies:
And tomorrow, my pets, I shall reveal the February artist! Bum bum bum . . . unless I already said. I don't remember. I'm not good with this suspense thing.