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Recent News... Just for Pope Gregory... |
2004-09-08 - 12:18 p.m. And it t'aint even Easter �so, since we changed personnel, the new person wants to change all the documents to their taste and � We�ve spent months on those documents. They are done. We are using them. Why, are we arguing about format at the end? Well, the new person doesn�t like it and the supervisor agrees somewhat and they want things their way or they can�t do their job and � I, who have had my face buried in my hands for the last minutes, look up and say Well, tell them to get down off the cross, cause somebody could use the wood. Judging by the laughter, I guess nobody had heard that one before. Oh, yeah, I think the relaxed, summer vacation atmosphere has left the building. Wanna hear about my weekend? C�mon, you know you do. I started Emma�s Pelican cloak on Wednesday because I was too dizzy to start it before. Wednesday night, a project that is better know by it�s full and formal name no, I can�t, cause I�m working on the cloak Wednesday night, NobodyTellAnneIHaven�tStartedItYet. I also learned you should not listen to comedy while cutting fabric since Roland found me laying the sewing room floor breathless at Bill Engvall�s description of the �Naked Barbie Woodstock�, but I digress. Friday found us driving south, filling the time with Harry Potter Book#5 and the final stitches on the cloak. It will be funny only to Emma that I was putting the clasps on just as we got to the ��S�up Figgy?� part where she's wailing on people with a bag of catfood cans. I laughed so hard, Roland had to stop at the next rest area so I could get the clasp I had dropped under the seat. Friday, I gave the cloak to Anne, along with a bag of chips tucked in the hood. Oh, is that for hospitality? said Anne, wondering about the Baked Lays. Anne indulged me. She even made the puzzled Bonnie and Nia put them back in the hood during vigil setup. You see, once upon a Pennsic, Emma was trying to persuade me (KMoL at the time) to run the Atlantia Tournament. Now that Emma has the job, she understands that you get to MOL 10 to 20 hours a week, and more at Pennsic, so, really, you�re okay *not* running a tournament. So, we�re having that polite argument, deferring to each other, which ends. Emma: But, I think Theo should run it cause she is all that. Theo: (apparently in an incredibly suggestive voice): Emma, you can be my bag of chips anytime you want. Anton fled the conversation and Damien had the look that means none of us want to know what he could say at this point. Mistress Emma of Elandonan is the bestest bag o�chips ever. � � � 
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