I have twenty seven images going for print tomorrow. That’s twenty seven different birds without twigs in front and they all have to be presented like this. To print perfect at two to a sheet of A4 with the Matt. Help is the ID correct? I know the image is within a Gnats whisker of blowing out. I have till Wednesday to get a better one. Amazingly I know what the others are called.
I texted Alex at noon whilst the rain was teeming down and she said. Aren’t they done? I need them tomorrow.
She was having a haircut in Inverness. It was a ladies haircut, when she polled up an hour ago she looked just the same with her head capped and shrouded by a tangley mass of blonde and not so blonde curly hairs. It did smell of lemons. I said very nice. It smelled lovely. I could have done with a good sniff.
She has decided that all the images look better for a vignette and with her leaning over my shoulder I had to agree. I’d have agreed to anything, she is stopping to eat a Pork Chop and moan. She could moan for Scotland. She says. What are you writing? I said I am just asking for confirmation on an ID. She tells me to tell you that if my hand gets so much as an inch from her arse again this will be my last post and she will be blowing the bugle. I’ll have to write this very small as like most ladies she has twice as many eyes as normal folk.
I think I’m winning. She is cooking. Has dropped back home for a bottle of wine. Her partner is massive. Don’t think of the pain Adrian. Faint heart never won a fair lady.
Have a great weekend. It’s looking good here. I have twenty or so images to re-edit but no worries. I now know the deadline is Wednesday. It pays to get to know ones clients.