Thank you, Pete.
Oh. Does the postcard count?
Oh my. Until now, they hung from the neck of my bedside floor lamp.
This was one of the best projects ever. Wish I could make one for each of you. If I could, I'd be a cork-glueing limner. I'd have cork-glueing elbow/wrist before it was over, but I'd do it. Susan's pins like corks. They practically push themselves. Thanks Susan. Again.
Then there's this . . .
It's for Walter Pigeon. I thought the colors were perfect. Then I opened the box.
There was this, too. And a sheet of instructions. Did you hear me cuss?
Can you hear me now?
Gotcha! Of course there's mail stuff.
A. I drew this last night before turning off the light.
B. Mailed 16 pieces of mail today, and guess what.
C. The post off will NOT let you swap stamps. Brunhilde told me I could use the unattractive stamps for packages, like the ones I mailed today.
D. The did not have the William H. Johnson stamps.
E. Their offerings were pitiful and pathetic.
F. Will he or won't he? What's he plotting? Will he open the mail box for the one armed . . .
Let us back up. Scroll up to the plane. Zoom in on the flyer's face. Remind you of anyone?
F2. Do you ever wonder about drawings or pictures? I drew the thing but have no idea what's going to happen. Is why I enjoy hearing what y'all think when you take a look/see. Wow. Wonder why the guy has his arm in a sling? Wonder if the berd on the branch is red? Haha. Gotcha again? A berd is missing. Hmm.
What's going on?
Happy mail to you, until we "read" again. See you in the mail.