A picture tells a thousand words

Is that the expression? Ask the Philosopher, and he’ll tell you that I’m terrible at idioms. I blame growing up in an English household embedded in American culture.

*just asked him. apparently it’s “paints a thousand words”*

Anyway, some of you may remember when the Bakestress and I spent a Saturday on a TSBP for the P’s birthday. Here are the fruits of our labours – a project I’m both especially proud of and inordinately embarrassed by. And I’m showing you nonetheless. A sign of maturity, at last?

Each is a street in Oxford, the name of which has some significance for the Philosopher – for obvious and less obvious reasons.

The unfortunate downside to this is having my face plastered five times over in our kitchen. Worse still, it’s probably now the first thing people will see when then walk in the door.

But a present is a present! And one must let the man be the man and drive that nail into the wall wherever he darn well pleases. Buuut, no finger pointing if the pictures suddenly disappear before a dinner party: deal? Deal.

Creative gift ideas? Keep ’em coming!

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