Yesterday, we shipped eleven boxes filled with sunshine and Trops to Theory LLC.
The afternoon light was streaming in through the windows.
Well, they weren't all Trops, there were also iPad sleeves, small clutches, black foldover clutches, messenger totes - the CV gamut. The sun was making the most beautiful lightshow on the plain cardboard boxes.
This is about how industrial we get, exhibit A: weighing boxes. This yellow bathroom-model is one of the only things we have from France and Le Mari's life before he met me. It is kilos. First we weighed Mat, then she held each box and we subtracted her weight from the total, then converted that to pounds. So glad we have a hot intern to do this job rather than moi.
This is good autumn light. Fed Ex wouldn't pick up the shipment so the boxes are waiting on the porch for us to carry them down and load them in a 1980s stoner van belonging to my neighbor, the legendary guitar maker, James Trussart. Jocelyn, Mat and I, all made the trip to Fed Ex in the plush-seated, behemoth blaring the Rolling Stones on two-for Tuesday rock-radio. It seemed the only station appropriate for that ride. Maybe our 80s van wasn't the classiest vehicle in town but as Mick always said best, "you can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need..."
oh yeah. :)