I've Blipped

By Scottishtwist

It's on the cards.

It's rainy, wet and windy outside, but the wood burner is roaring away, it seems the ideal time to write some Christmas cards.
I remember my Grandmother mislaying stamps, one year, as she wrote her cards. She had them returned to her in January by the person who found them in their envelope. Now where did I put my pen?!

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