The Wrecking Crew

They were here today.  The wrecking crew.  Did I say wrecking crew?  I mean the wrapping crew, or the packing crew, but certainly not the wrecking crew. I should really call them the ziploc packing wrapping crew.   You know, Leftover triage.  You see, you may have "heard" what happens when the prints first arrive.  But WAIT!  There's more.

The next step is to cull prints "one"  and "two" from the edition of fourteen and get them packaged for upcoming exhibitions and our auction.  This is where we count 'em.  Yeah, we count 'em.  To make sure there are 14 - and we are ever so pleasantly surprised to find an extra print slipped in to the mix.  Not to mention your treasured stories, precious notes, valued compliments and delightful anecdotes.

Then we file 'em again.  Alphabetically.  I'm partial to filing by first names, because I would never call you Ms. Giraud, Mr. Baum or Professor Fitterer.  I'd like to think if you were right here, at Wingtip, I'd say "Wow, Patricia . . . Hey Michael . . . Aww, Jill!"  Yes, we file 'em.  In two files.  One file for the remaining 12 prints to be collated and shipped, and another file of two individually bagged prints to be labeled for exhibitions and our auction.

So! Many, many, many, many thanks to  Josie and Katherine and Katherine who earned their ziploc packing/wrapping crew badges today.

So now you know where we are.  Well, you sort of know where we are.  What you don't know is that I have barely begun to type your address labels yet.  But as soon as I do, I will call in the collating crew.  And after that . . . before you know it . . . you'll have a dozen tantalizing Leftovers in your mailbox just waiting to be devoured.  I mean savored.  Mmp, map, mmmmmmmmmmmm.

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