It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas here in Limnersville. It changes after I pack a bag, ransack my trust fund, and do a mail run. After I return it just looks like I need a housekeeper. The only evidence of all-things-Christmasy ends up being snippets of pretty paper, colorful tapes, tags, and empty shopping bags. Feist loves the empty bags. Well, they don't even have to be empty for her to have fun. She crawls inside, attacks the contents, turns around, and looks at me.
But anyway. There won't be much readable mail going out again until after the new year. There just aren't enough hours in one day to do what I do in December, and still find time to write letters. Besides, it's better to send a gift than a letter. No, I am not wealthy enough to buy, wrap, and mail 40+ nice gifts. So, I put the names from my address book into a bag, and pull a number of regulars. No, again. I can't afford gifts for even half of 40, but I do what I can. Each day, I hit the floor running, grabbing lists, calculating the best routes to my favorite stores, right after I check for coupon updates on my iPhone. I tell you, I learned quite by accident that cashiers can simply scan the coupon on your phone, and bingo! You're done. No more clipping, and digging through receipts, and holding up lines. Yes! Thank God for great technology!
And another thing. Please, will you ask your mail peeps (your regular postal employees) if THEY are allowed to hand cancel packages? It's outlawed in Katy. One of my mail peeps told me the meanie was right about them not being able to hand-cancel any more. I thanked her for telling me, and I explained why my nose turned so red. In the end, she hand-cancelled all of my packages. She stamped the roll of tape I bought, too. Meanie can say "It's raining," and make it sound like she hopes you get struck by lightning. So, I'm just wondering if you guys are under the same ban, too.
And another and: Has anyone seen the tube? Remember the One Incher? I hoped it would have made it home by now. *sigh*
Anyway . . . I am so in the Holiday Spirit. It's like being possessed. Not that I know what possession is like, but still . . . I can imagine. I make joyful noises! I bought a package of Muse Tokens. I like to grab a handful and jingle 'em. They make the sweetest sounds.
I repurpose beautiful paper with lovely images. I dislike the word "repurpose." Glad I could get that off my chest. This is an image of The Lennon from a pen catalog. I couldn't throw it away, so I used it on an envelope for
Anna someone special.
I've used up most of my Christmas bling. What's left is just as much fun. So, if you get a package fro me, LOOK ON THE BACK FIRST! Obey all instructions, is all I'm saying.
While I'm being honest, let me say "I cannot stand to watch "It's a Wonderful Life" one more time. I simply cannot bear it. Watching it for the 20th time sickens you. Write that in the palm of you hand, and see if I'm not right. Don't wash that hand until the 19th viewing. Then write me a note, telling me I'm right. It won't cost you more than a stamp.
I like these holidays. I get to send stories on packages for free! It's really hope, belief and trust that I'm setting free. It happens every time you open a package, and listen to me. Or, open first--believe later. I tried to tell you once before: Patience and believing while in Hell, builds up rewards in this lifetime. You just gotta believe. And, so, it is Christmas! 'Tis the season, what ever the reason. I, for one, am truly believing. I believe we all have generous spirits. You certainly prove it each time you give your time to write a letter.
"As you give, so shall you reap." That's always made sense to me.
Bitterness is always tempered with sweet. Dear Henderica! It came! Thank you! Your package was the only thing in my mailbox, but it was all I saw anyway. Such amazing stamps. You gave me my first Postcrossing stamps! Thank-you endlessly. Thanks for each stamp. I pored over the envelope. I almost tripped on the curb 'cause I was looking so hard. I opened it right there in the parking lot. And I laughed. I promise you, the first thing that got me were the colors. A rainbow! Then I saw the carrot. Really, I just knew it came from the horse's patootie. I laughed so hard, I accidentally hit the horn when I pounded the steering wheel.
The gift paper holds a season of stories. And a few questions: Who is the guy in the pantaloons? Is he meant to be a Moor? I learned you celebrate December 5th. Sorry my gift is late. I mailed it yesterday. I learn so much from everyone. Letter to follow! But, the box!
The ad designer in me never goes to sleep. How can this company afford to sell such delicious chocolates at an affordable price when they use so much ink on their packaging? I'd never toss a single box. Most especially . . . Drumroll! . . . A chocolate L! I had to open it. Chocolate letters. They're the best kind of alphabet. Thank you! I have a weakness for hazelnuts and chocolate.
Oh. I had to open the box. It rattled, you see. Someone broke the L to bits. Jealousy! Pure jealousy! I'm sure they smelled the chocolates. After I saw it, well, I had to take a bite--just to see if Dutch milk chocolate is as yummy as I imagine. Yes! So, Donavan, yes, too. I am finally pissed off about crushed, bent, man-handled mail. Thank you, dear Henderica! That broken L tasted so good, I ate a 1 inch square. Maybe two inches. Who carries a ruler? ;)
Yes, it's beginning to
feel taste smell look a lot like Christmas, here in Limnersville.
P.S. Don't open your gifts yet, people! Unless I say so. :)