Friday, November 25, 2011

This Is How My Story Goes

Howdy, hey, all! Let me say straight away, if you porkerd out yesterday, you should not be sitting there reading this. You'd be better off on a treadmill somewhere, or taking a brisk walk that's paced to break a sweat. Go! Detox all that butter, cream, goose fat, sugar, and cider, and pumpkin pie . . . Oh, mercy! I'm making myself hungry. And goodness, gracious, no, I haven't had any of that. Maybe a little turbinado sugar in the sweet potato casserole. And only a little.

So. A day doesn't go by that mail doesn't touch my life. I'm either reading it, writing it, composing it in my head, or wishing I could write more of it. I am determined to take a clean break come Christmas. Erin will be home, and we're gonna do our baking. I get to see her once a year. So, I'm making letter-hay while the sun shines down on me.

Remember Pinky? Pinky Pig? Well, Pinky came home Thanksgiving Eve, she did. For real. Such wide-eyed innocence, yes? She knows she won't end up being the bacon in this home. N-i-i-ce piggy.

Pinky's all decked out in postal pretties.
 Her baby back ribs are nicely covered.

JC pointed out with glee,
uncanceled stamps
 that add up to three.

Aha! What's this?
A little secret message?
or Not?
The safest security
Is a gently tied knot.
Safe in plain sight!

And there's more!
A major surprise
greetings galore.
Misty, I've thanked you so much,
my thanker is sore. 

I still cannot fathom how you parted with the lovely reindeer pin. I remember the stamp! That deer has such style and grace. 

I love graphic design. It cuts to the chase--to the core--'cause it whittles away at all the unnecessaries--leaving behind the best. It's like saying thank-you, when you search for something that has flash and dash--believing flowery can say it better. It's futile, my search, you see, cause 8 little letters top the chart: 

Thank you, dear Misty. You got me again. Right where it matters: In the middle of my heart. Which isn't exactly centered in the body, but is more to the  . . . Oops. Sorry. 


Coming home after a visit with O-Bird on Wednesday, I saw the mail truck the second I turned onto our street. The carrier was closing the clusters, so I figured he'd be done and on his way by the time I pulled into the garage. Then I'd walk back and check for mail. 

Well, that didn't happen. He pulled up behind me on the street, and we met beneath the open garage door. But I watched him walk towards me. His hands were empty, so I wondered . . . The look on his face. Such a handsome young man, too. Fine. Nice build, and tallish, but not thin. Mmm good. Like that. But, no, I'm no cougar. Doesn't mean I cannot appreciate the human body. Clothed. A clothed human body. Artists have built-in approval to admire. 

So, my gaze shifted from empty hands, to nice face, to the crook of his arm, and what I saw made me grin! I laughed out loud. I told him, "Oh, my goodness! It's mine! She sent it to me!" Postal clerk grinned then. He held it with both hands like a quarterback handles the pig skin--ready to pass it off. I reached out with both hands, still babbling--going on about "she," and Misty, and omg, like he knew who I was talking about.

I went over Pinky with a fine tuned eye, and declared her "In great shape!" I said, "She made it all the way home from Ohio!" See, I knew Pinky was a she. It took one look. 

Now, I do recall thanking the young man. Then I remember going back for the groceries later. I left the groceries in the Honda, put my purse on the table, shuffled ran upstairs and commenced to taking pictures. By the time I'd finished, the butter was soft. Checking Pinky out from the tip of her upturned little snout, to her curly tail, was some of the best fun I've had in a little while. Only her ears bore tiny dents. Her innards were safe and intact. Misty taped the curl in her tail, the slot for my postage savings, and her little underbelly. I tried to show you every cute detail, but I gotta tell you, taking great photos of a see-thru piggy isn't easy. I suppose you might say Piggy is totally transparent--with nothing to hide. Can you say the same? I know I can't, so I won't. 

And, guess what. The pin is in its original package. If that doesn't beat all, I'll go bear hunting' with a switch.

Misty, Misty, Misty. What am I gonna do with you? Thank you, forever. You are too clever, by far. Hmm. Wonder if I can top . . . Wow.

Hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I gave thanks for everyone. You improve live immensely. You're good for life. Thank you.

Sincerely sincere,



  1. What a beautiful testimonial of friendship and postal bliss!! I was smiling as I read the post and I know that you made Misty's day simply by being so grateful for her mail! Its always the hope of the sender that what they give to someone will be appreciated but its how you captured that beautiful moment from moment of delivery to joy of exploring every nook and cranny of it. I LOVE mail days like that. The ones that take your breath away by the kindess of another. Beautiful post!

  2. I agree with anon! I am so glad you liked it..and that the pin arrived. ( I was slightly worried that someone might...take it out for inspection and just "forget" to put it back in). This blog post made me smile so much I was asked (while reading it on my phone) what I was smiling about. Then I went on to read the whole post to my mother. She thinks you are terrific! But I already knew that!!

  3. Anonymous, Misty, I honestly don't know what to say just yet. :D
    Thank you, both!

    Misty, it was surreal, the way it happened. Like slow motion. I still grin every time I look at it. I know Erin and JC are tired of hearing me go on about all the lovely mail and sweet goodness I get. Each piece is special.

    Aww, Misty, your mom raised an awesome daughter, who won't listen when I tell her to stop. LOL. You're something else. :)

    My thanker and my smiler are both sore. LOL. For real. Just wait. I'll reciprocate. ;)

    Be well!