Tuesday, August 23, 2016

Embraceable Me & Good Mail

The boot comes off tomorrow. I've been embraced. The guys over at Hanger are cool. They laugh with you about looking like a cyborg; there are no sad faces there; they offer hope and a jar of Dum-dums. They also make runner blades for infants and toddlers. We never think about babies needing prosthetics. 

The new brace kneels with me. It hurts just enough to make me remember that bones are being pressed and realigned. This hardware will allow me to drive again, and if by some miracle it made it possible for me to run . . . well, let's just say you wouldn't be able to see me for the dust. (grin) 

I stood in line at the post office again today for the second time in many months. It felt great. My favorite employee saved the day again. I mailed goodies in my homemade Norman Rockwell envelope over a week ago and it was returned. To make this a shorty, she wrote an address label for me because the scanner picked up my return address instead of reading the address label I'd cleverly created. C. didn't want to cover the original so she promised to take care of it instead of me having to do a do-over or cover my label. t was worried that I'd gotten her in trouble. While she was helping me try to figure out why the package never left our post office, her supervisor walked over and a stare-down ensued. She's shorter than I am, and I know that bullies aren't so bad, plus I'm good at staring. I won. She wanted C. to "keep the line moving." C. said good customer service and interacting with people is what keeps the line moving; without customers there'd be no lines. Jen, I'm glad you got it. 


More Olympics themed envelopes await letters. They'll run their course eventually. Meaning I'll run out eventually. (grin)


Five pieces of good mail went out today. Five pieces were in my box! Even Steven. Such good mail too. Just you wait and see. 

I saw a photograph of Roy Rogers in here today. So, happy mail, to you, until I write again . . .


A Little Bit of this, that & the Other

Did you cry just a little too? I mean last night, during the closing ceremony. I grinned harder than I cried. It was all so emotional. You might think my Spanish is improving since I understood much of what "Mario" said. And what a shock. Who knew Mario was Japanese? I, for sure, did not. Never played Mario Bros, either, but I might. Pac Man, yes! See? We learn a lot if when we pay attention. 

Did you learn to samba? I did! I did! I think I did. My one legged version left much to be desired, but you just wait until this boot and the Evenup come off this week. I won't wear a fruit bowl on my head but I'm shake something come Friday. Did you know that fruit on Carmen Miranda's head brought Rio to the world's attention? I wonder if she ever got over being known for wearing a fruit salad. She had a lovely voice. And, like the lady sang in the rain, "Nothing lasts forever." 

The sun came out today. There's a short stack of mail ready for tomorrow. I didn't feel like looking for it when JC reminded me to leave my out-going in the out-going place last night. I was too busy mourning the end of the Games. (sigh) Knowing my heart will be in Tokyo in four years helps. The winter games come before that so looks like I'm good to go although truth, is I'm not that big on those games anymore. I fell out of love with figure skating; it melted to a mild like. Maybe I'lll write winter mail, bake bread and cookies, learn to ski or something else then. Ice fishing? Nah. Where would I find earth worms in winter? 

Today I sat on the patio with one of the books I'm enjoying. It's not new but the first chapter was so delicious it deserved to bask with me; too bad the mosquitoes were so rude. Burt's smelled better than it worked, although to be fair I didn't apply it to my skin or clothing. It was easier to give in and go back indoors. (sigh)

This is the chair I want. Lavenger's tempts me with their sinful catalogs. I'm all in with the back and arms. Not so with the saddle-like seat. I have tight hips; the manufacturer recommends "perching" and likens using this beauty to being astride a saddle. They also try to make you feel like you're missing out on something by not sitting like a perfect horsewoman. It's great for your posture. I just want a chair that's good for my body. Have you tried it? Do you recommend it? Will I write better letters if I use this?

I found a missed Christmas-in-July package. Whatever's inside I'll keep. Perhaps it'll pull me out of this post-Games slump that feels like I did after I broke up with my high school boyfriend. I wonder how many Olympians are having a difficult time adjusting to adrenaline drain, settling down to the mundane, missing practicing. Remember how it feels to be on the other side of having a dream come true? Your soul wonders what's next. What can top winning gold? Certainly not a 9 to 5 job. Here I go worrying about people I don't even know! 

Turning the page . . .

Giving always makes me feel better. I finally used another handmade envelope. One letter and this cute little lamb postcard helped for awhile. I hope the recipient likes it as much as the artist and I. Those shells are so beautiful. (sigh)

Make me happier. Don't forget to enter the bag giveaway. Send a postcard with the words Life Line on front. The more I give the better I feel. (grin)

Speaking of giving! Anna, lovely friend Anna, sent a box of my favorite tea. It's not to be had in Houston or Katy for gold or money. Talk about withdrawal? I won't open it until after the box of Taylor's is all gone. Thanks again, Anna! I enjoy looking at the box, imagining I'm there in the scene. That's me in the kitchen doing the washing up after breakfast. Can you see me waving? 

My bunting isn't finished; Alex gave me the Storm Trooper because I gave him the stamps and stickers from Jen. Jen gave me these stamps! The gift of self keeps on giving, doesn't it? Thanks again, Jen.

Did I tell you Trader Joe's gave me a free bag? I had two because I'm weak for reusable food bags I wanted two, but the cashiers gave me one because it was my first time shopping there. We pass the store every single time I go to Texas Art Supply, and didn't know it. I'll keep one but the spare is earmarked for a pen friend.

This is one of my favorite cards. I think I've seen all these pots in Target. Yep, I wanted them too. Thank you Maria! Speaking of Maria, I had four Maria pen friends! At one time too! I always said, "Ave, Maria!" when I saw mail from one of them. I have three Pam/Pamelas! My favorite bookseller is a Pam. How lucky can one me be? 

Speaking of a Pamela . . . this Pamela made the paper wallet I can't seem to get, and she made it from paper I sent from Hi Fructose. Golly-golly! Thank you Pamela One. You're rather clever-clever.

The Tree of Life. It's simply gorgeous. Thank you, Lynda! It's close to being matted and framed. It's time to add to the mail art I hang on my walls. It deserves a wall dedicated to just that. Can't you see this done in felt, stitched with sating threads and a golden needle, matted, framed and hanging? This is my kind of tree.

The Tree of Life card and a book about someone's life. How fitting, yes? I gave my friend Catherine a copy of a book I enjoyed, "Brooklyn." Thank you Catherine. It is also a movie. I caught it on HBO, and hoped my friend would enjoy it too. She had. She did. Then, she sent me this in return. I cheated and read the first parts, knowing I need to finish the three books I'm currently invested in. What's funny is I almost bought a copy of The Clancys when JC and I first saw it in B&N.  I bought my second copy of "The Color Purple" instead. Did you know it's an epistolary novel? As is Bram Stoker's "Dracula?" I often forget that. 

I watched an ant carry this perfect seed across the patio. See that sunlight? I love the sun. August is cleaning house, packing its bags, getting ready to go. Okay, it's leaving messes for us to clean up. There's weeding that needs planning, raking, prepping . . . time is slowing down around us as we wind up for a last summer urrah. By the way, when's Labor Day? 

Wow. I feel better already. Thanks for listening.

yours truly,


Sunday, August 21, 2016

Olympics Rehab Needed

August 21, 2016

Dear Friends,

How are you? Are you turning blue too?

I write to you with a full and happy heart that's doing its best to stave off sadness. The Games are over. I have never watched so much television. But I had to this August; this was Game-on for the world. Records were made and broken, as were hearts and dreams. Americans made me proud and ashamed, but mostly proud. Teams USA represented like no one else. 

The Brazilian people "done good" by us. They should be proud. It's great when those with less act like the have the most when they 're hosts. Watching some of their guests enjoy all they were offered in the spirit proffered made my heart swell with delight in mankind. We're pretty amazing humans, huh? 

So, I take pen in hand to cry on your shoulders because I don't want it to end just yet. Yet I'm glad it's over. My palms are sore from clapping; I strained my vocal cords hollering for those runners to fly; I tried to vault out of my chair like those pole vaulters; I even tried to jump with that little short stack from Port Arthur Texas. And I cried when I said goodbye to Usain Bolt. Will there ever be another better than The Bolt? Well, yeah. Someday. Humans are getting bigger, faster, taller, smarter . . . so yeah, records will forever be broken. 

Black Gurls run! That's a new anthem for me. I love Allyson Felix and Tori Bowie. I have from the first time I ever watched them on a field. Tori has a special place in my heart behind Allyson. I don't "know" the other women on that relay team but they ran in sisterhood and in Americanship. They ran like the wind. I screamed, "Run girls, run! Run like slave catchers are after you! Run! Can't you hear those chains rattling behind you?" And I believe in my heart they heard me. African American women were the first to win the relay those Jamaicans always dominated, like Americans can't run or something. And they tried to cheat, those Jamaicans did, when they bumped Allyson. Well, a well deserved do-over showed 'em. 

I missed watching the American wrestler trump her opponent, but the look on her face in all the clips made me cry. That girl was so happy! Women pole vaulters (That Italian vaulter!!!), gymnasts, fencers, basketballers, boxers . , . I hate boxing, and wish women had better sense than to risk their brains on such a dumb sport; brains are made for better things. But to each her own. Great joy was mine when the Chinese (?) athlete talked about having her period and how her cramps hurt. Periods hurt at the Olympics just like they do at home. See? There's nothing to be ashamed of when you menstruate. Thank God they don't shut us away in huts anymore. Oh. Wait. They still do in some countries. 

Cyclists . . . I tried to watch the BMX bikers but come on. Swimmers, rowers, tennis players . . . you name it there were women in it. And they won some. Women won more medals than men. I don't have enough envelopes and markers for all the images racing through my head. There will be stragglers so please be patient if I draw another Olympics moment envelope in September or October. I couldn't keep up. I started late. (grin)

See what I mean? How could I not do a tribute to Carmen Miranda? That watermelon has to make her neck hurt like mine hurts right now, from bending over my lap desk too long. Sketches are strewn across the bed; on backs of envelopes, receipts, a prescription bag, my desk . . . I had the time of my life last night! It shows. Anna, thanks forever for the hot water bottle. I tried to strap it across my shoulder with an Ace bandage but it didn't work. (grin) I slept poorly last night.  I don't deserve sympathy. (sigh) I need rehab. I cheered while I was awake and I must have cheered in my sleep because my neck pillow was on the floor this morning. I hope I didn't try to vault over the headboard. 

It's 10:17 pm and I'm already going through withdrawal. Oh my goodness gracious. What'll I do?  I know. Take a muscle relaxer and call it a night. I'll finish a couple of envelopes first. (wink)

Be well.

Sincerely sincere,

your friend,

Limner C

P.S. Happy mail to you.

Saturday, August 20, 2016

A Funny Thing Happened on My Way to the Olympics Mail Arena

Let me see . . . Hmm. Who can I blame for this fine mess? What began as a face forward drawing ended up reversing itself before I had time to think it through. When inspiration comes you gather rosebuds while you may. Right off the bat I heard a whispered warning, "You're gonna get in trouble if you draw the Simone shorter than the balance beam," and I call it a balance beam with mirth. I know it's a table with long leg. The thing is, I don't enjoy tossing almost perfectly good cartoons since I decided not to be such a perfectionist. See where I tried to disguise my biggest part of the mess with my sig? Ha! And Simone's hands look like she has vitiligo; no I'm not being cruel. My brother has vitiligo. 

I'm having so much fun competing with myself to see how many envelopes I can finish before the Games are over. So you see, I don't have time for a single re-do. I have so many drawings fighting to escape my brain in search of life on paper! I got ahead of myself! There's an envelope that came before this one. Dang it! It's just . . . well, this one was so funny. It's the funniest thing to happen on my way to the Olympics Mail Arena.

Stay tuned . . . It'll all be over soon.

Friday, August 19, 2016

Rain, Rain, Go Away. Or Stay.


We didn't win gold in the event but our players were bold. In Limnersville there was a tie. The birds and the bees shouted "Do or die!" But it didn't stop the rain from falling. So the game's called a tie. There are no volleyball scores to share, but credit is given to the spinning spiders that wove their net. "We'll meet again in four years, you can bet!" said the spider to the fly.

P.S.  The sun came out just long enough for the worker bees to roll up the gear and store it for the next Olympics year. 

Mail went out thanks to JC.

You know, I thought winning gold for dressage meant a rider won a medal for the perfect riding habit. Dressage is French for training. I say it's man imposing his will over an animal's even when the animal knows better. Man would be better served if he mastered his own animal nature instead of making horses dance, even if the music is Santana's. Ahem.

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Winding Down while Catching Up

pole vault

The best part of being in bed this time around is . . . getting rain everyday. Rain means it's cooler inside, and the sound of rain drops hitting the roof and windows is a soothing lullaby; thunder boomers wake me up just in time to see Olympics records being broken. If I miss something there are always late night seconds.  

I found an old letter from December I think. So I dressed it up with a bunch of stamps. Do you ever find forgotten/temporarily lost letters? Actually I found two. Old mail is better than no mail, is what I believe.

I know I'm getting better when boredom stirs me. Reading my first "Harry Potter"does not stop the restless foot shaking; "The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks"is too sad, and my hands shake too much to write legible letters (forgive me Anna), so I take up pencil and pad instead. Shaky lines in ink drawings are forgivable. Right? I can't stand the excitement! I do get to draw a bunch of envelopes for future letters. Ta-da! 

Olympic records getting broken make me crazy. Pole vaulting always makes my heart pound. You have to want to fly to be a vaulter. You have to be a little bit nuts to hurdle; one has to "hurl" first. Get it? (grin) Relays make my pulse do a delay. You've heard people say "write it out" when your feelings overwhelm you? Well, I'm "drawing" out my Olympics nerves. My first drawing was for volleyball. Whew! Gymnastics I did for sure. I gave up on cycling. We know why, right? Or maybe not. Do-overs are fair. I really must hurry though since the Olympics are winding down, and I'll be up and running again soon. 

See? I found some good in being down. So many drawings. So little time. Then it's time to answer mail. 

Here's hoping you're enjoying the Games too. 

Be well.

Tuesday, August 16, 2016

Sleepy Head & a Life Saving Med

Hey. How's your day? We got more rain. Yea! I slept like a newborn. I slept until 5:03 PM. Remember I told you I was tired? It took longer for my heart to slow down, so I . . . I forget what I did! It'll come to me in a few minutes. I feel wrung out but it'll pass. It's hard to believe I've been awake for just a little over four hours though. When I saw the time I thought it was 5 AM. (grin) Panic flung back the covers. My body couldn't follow. You know I turned on the television to double check the time to be sure. Yep, it was that late; it looked like a dark morning because rain clouds blocked out the light. So I said to myself, "So what? It's okay. See who won more gold." And I did. 

JC thought I'd died in my sleep, poor thing. Simon and Minuet did to, if cats think such things. I read news and my heart skipped. I've carried Epi-pens since the 80s. They're the second line of defense for people with life-threatening allergies. I'll share this and move on.

"EpiPens save lives when severe allergic reactions occur, but rising costs of the most commonly used epinephrine injectors are leaving many families broke, while others are opting to risk suffering a life-threatening attack by simply not buying them.

CBS News reported that in 2009 pharmacies paid about $100 for a two-pack of EpiPens, but today that same package costs more than $600. "Within the last two months, we've had about three patients who had issues with the price of an EpiPen,” pharmacist Leon Tarasenko, president at Pasteur Pharmacy in New York City, told CBS. “They did not receive it. They just refused to take it.” ' (Fox News)

So, thanks for not making me sick in the future. We have to toss the pens after they expire. Who has $600 to throw away? I'd rather buy stamps.

Does this look familiar? Anna! Thanks for giving me such a beautiful goal. I'll do my own proper tea when the time is right.

 I'm determined to see this down time as a luxury, so I took a stack of my favorite magazines I've not done justice to bed with me. This is for Anna. 

This is from my young friend, James. I admire his printing. 

He wrote a thank-you card for a gift. I dream of drawing a dragon some day. It's the one fantasy creature I'm not very good at drawing. It's like my bird on a bike. Someday though. Someday.

A little while ago I bought three of these. I think I gave one to Alex; I gave one to James, and I kept one for myself. I never know for sure if a gift is age appropriate, so I cross my fingers and go for it when I'm brave enough. I still draw my own robots. No one can say they're not right since they're your own creations. 

I never opened the Robobox package to check the contents before today. Wow. I'm glad I did. The templates are cool. No two robots will ever be the same.

Neat tools, huh?

James has to be my number one young male pen friend. I never thought of drawing a robot army! Now I want to do just that. Or should I give the last box to another young artist? If I keep it for myself I can draw so-o-o many robots . . . My own army! Shucks, this is hard.

What if mine aren't quite as good as James'? No matter. His just plain cool. Thanks, James. 

I wrote a letter last night. No mail out. I slept through the mail run. It usually takes three days to overcome an episode; that's just more leisure time, right? Thanks for being kind and considerate. And don't be thrown by mail with late dates. It's not the post office's fault.

Be well.