I spent the morning searching all over the house, the garage, my office, everywhere, looking for my three sets of fish dies. I stored these away years ago. It was hard enough to find them the first time I needed them, and here I go and misplace them again.
How does this happen? Dies are like industrial strength cookie cutters mounted on wood that goes into a press and with one punch (click) the shape of the die is cut out from different materials such as paper, board, or plastic. Dies used all the time for all sorts of products.
All I found in my search were horrific scenes under the couch: super balls, cat toys, a few stray ants, crumbs, missing game pieces, bobby pins, and stuff we haven’t used in ages. But no dies.
After collecting 13 bobby pins, getting a Goodwill bag started, and realizing how much I had been neglecting the house, my search became a little more frantic. I could not figure out where the heck I could have placed the dies. They’re not small. How, what, where did I put them? I know I wouldn’t have put them away in a closet or somewhere inconvenient. I would have placed them somewhere obvious … wait scratch that.
I tried reconstructing what I was thinking—or not thinking—at the time I had them last, but that just sent me back to each room, straining to remember. I get distracted constantly, doing so many things and I end up misplacing my coffee all over the house all the time. I could have easily set the dies down anywhere, when I stopped to answer the phone or let the cat out.
But then, as I was flipping through, opening, closing, lifting, and looking, my eyes landed on my large, black, motherboard boxes in the garage that I had acquired from a company going out of business. I had repurposed them as art boxes. I pulled each box back and there is was. A piece of green masking tape on the outside of the box I had written: “Fish Dies.”
Collapse on the floor happiness. Just three hours later…
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