Kinda weird how it does that every year, whether you're expecting it or not, eh?
The catalogs have already started filling up the mailbox. And the trash can. A sampling: several from Land's End, a couple from Dover (mostly offering children's books) and the Wireless catalog – which only shows up at Christmas.
Serengeti thinks I want to order more clothes, even though I told them I wouldn't be doing that after I ordered three coordinated pieces and they only sent two. Tell me, would you order a complete outfit if you knew one of the pieces was out of stock, never to be replaced? Neither would I. Which is why I ordered those slacks that were clearly marked in stock. Except they weren't. So now I have a jacket and a top and a refund on my shipping. That's going to look lovely at holiday parties.
Anyway, the one catalog I haven't received – yet – is good old Williams-Sonoma. But wait! I don't have to actually get it. Thanks to deadspin.com, I can peruse it on the internets, along with snappy comebacks for some of the more
I had to clean the monitor of spewed coffee when I read this one:
Living in the Middle of Nowhere means I frequently shop from catalogs or the internet. I've already missed the "shop local" boat for this Christmas. I've ordered origami books from Dover for one grandchild, picked up DVDs and dollhouse furniture at Toys 'R Us for another and renewed the Highlights for Children for the triplets.
Every day-after-Christmas I vow that next year will be different. Next year will be a handmade Christmas or an experience Christmas or a charitable Christmas.
(Actually last year was both handmade and experiential. But it also was still mail-order and commercial.)
A purist I am not. And seriously? If I could afford it I'd give everyone on my list a polished alderwood acorn made in Italy filled with 76 yards of linen twine. I wonder if it's waxed.