Hartington Lane
Jul. 15th, 2008 02:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
todayiamadaisyI WON A PRIZE!
I mean, I never win prizes. Probably because I don't enter things, but that's because I never win. And so on.
Anyway, there was a parcel collection notice in my letterbox when I got home last night, which wasn't a surprise. I'm expecting this any day now (I bought it as a celebration for a freakishly good performance in my subject last semester. I mean, I was expecting a High Distinction anyway, but apparently my thoughts on contemporary masculinity expressed through selected films of the twentieth century are particularly noteworthy).
So I went to the Post Office this morning and handed over my card, and the lady came back with a box big enough for a small TV. I hope my pendant is well-packaged, but, even so, it won't need a box that big. All the way home I was itching to know what was in the box, and intrigued by the big FRAGILE and HANDLE WITH CARE stickers.
Home again, I got a knife and opened the box, got the bin to put all the styrofoam peanuts in, and pulled out... another box and a letter. I opened the letter, which told me that when I re-subscribed to Donna Hay magazine a few months ago, I was put in the subscription prize draw and lo! My name has come up. I opened the new box, removed the styrofoam peanuts and took out... another box. So I opened that box, wondering if my prize was a nest of boxes filled with styrofoam peanuts, and, happily, found a small, hot pink hatbox. And in that was some Royal Albert bone china: a cup, saucer and plate (mine is the 1990 piece, Hartington Lane. If I'd had a choice in the matter, I would have picked the 1950 piece, Festival, but I'm not complaining).
So that was all unexpected and delightful. I've a cupboard full of vintage china cups that I've inherited, so it's nice to add one of my very own. I'm drinking peach and raspberry tea out of it right now.
I mean, I never win prizes. Probably because I don't enter things, but that's because I never win. And so on.
Anyway, there was a parcel collection notice in my letterbox when I got home last night, which wasn't a surprise. I'm expecting this any day now (I bought it as a celebration for a freakishly good performance in my subject last semester. I mean, I was expecting a High Distinction anyway, but apparently my thoughts on contemporary masculinity expressed through selected films of the twentieth century are particularly noteworthy).
So I went to the Post Office this morning and handed over my card, and the lady came back with a box big enough for a small TV. I hope my pendant is well-packaged, but, even so, it won't need a box that big. All the way home I was itching to know what was in the box, and intrigued by the big FRAGILE and HANDLE WITH CARE stickers.
Home again, I got a knife and opened the box, got the bin to put all the styrofoam peanuts in, and pulled out... another box and a letter. I opened the letter, which told me that when I re-subscribed to Donna Hay magazine a few months ago, I was put in the subscription prize draw and lo! My name has come up. I opened the new box, removed the styrofoam peanuts and took out... another box. So I opened that box, wondering if my prize was a nest of boxes filled with styrofoam peanuts, and, happily, found a small, hot pink hatbox. And in that was some Royal Albert bone china: a cup, saucer and plate (mine is the 1990 piece, Hartington Lane. If I'd had a choice in the matter, I would have picked the 1950 piece, Festival, but I'm not complaining).
So that was all unexpected and delightful. I've a cupboard full of vintage china cups that I've inherited, so it's nice to add one of my very own. I'm drinking peach and raspberry tea out of it right now.