As I mentioned recently, I live in a home dominated by women. The extended family is like that, too.
So when it comes time to write a Christmas list, I do the dumbest thing possible. I include clothes on the list.
Every woman in the family owns a masters in clothes shopping. And they gravitate right to those items on the list. The poor listings of various baseball cards, underlined and capitalized, are ignored.
I received no cards for Christmas. Not a surprise. I did receive two Sabres caps. I only need one. I received three shirts, a couple pairs of pants, lots of socks, and some gloves.
I asked for most of those items. But none of it is what I really wanted.
So, next year, the list will not include clothes. It's going to be baseball cards and nothing else. Desperate times.
Of course, it's not all gloom and doom hobby-wise. The extra Sabres cap will be converted into cards. The cash I received will be converted into cards. And I did receive a binder from my folks.
That binder was immediately put to work.
A week or so ago, a package arrived from Jeffrey at Cardboard Catastrophes. He read about how I was short on eight-pocket pages and he said he had a bunch that weren't being used.
So I spent early Christmas afternoon filling my new binder with pages and transferring my 1956 Topps cards to their first binder of their own! I may not have had any new cards to sort on Christmas but there were cards to sort!
Jeffrey also threw in one cards to add to the binder:
Hal Jeffcoat will be the first new resident of the brand new 1956 Topps binder.
When you're a diehard like me, you'll figure out any way to turn your Christmas into something involving cards.
Enjoy the rest of your holiday.
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