Friday, February 15, 2013

Part One of a Two Parter

The day has been as close to perfect as a human can get and not be in Paradise. I practically ran to the post office, just to have an excuse to drive with the sun all over the upper parts of myself. Sitting outside wouldn't have been the same, so that is what I did. I mailed a fun package. In such a hurry I forgot to take a photograph first. See, I packed my bag last night in anticipation, but when I escaped left, I forgot to take a picture. I didn't take my iPad, wasn't sure I had my phone; the line wasn't long, so I stood where I felt like I belonged. Then it was my turn.

I sure wish I'd taken a picture. It would save me all these words. But I gotta tell you. I am becoming vain. No. Wait.

vain |vān|adjectivehaving or showing an excessively high opinion of one's appearance, abilities, or worth: their flattery made him vain.

You be the judge. I handed the clerk my package. I'd filled out the customs form last night, and affixed it to the front with a thin strip of tape. It covered the front. I forget what we were chatting about, the clerk and I . . . Oh. I asked after the Love stamps. Guess what. They had them. 
Me: Wow. Where were they when I needed them for my Valentine mail?
Clerk: Oh, well, everyday is a day for sending Love. The world we live in needs it every day.
Me: Slightly taken aback. Why, you're certainly right. I can send my share out into the world every day for twenty days. Thank you.
Clerk: Something unintelligible . . . so cute. Who drew it?
Me: Thinking she meant the design for the stamp, yet not positive.  Sorry, what?
Clerk: The drawing. The one on your package. Who drew it?
Me: Blushing. Suddenly so bashful I had to look at the floor before I whispered, I did.
Clerk: Who?
Me: Me. I did.
She went on to say more nice things. I didn't hear because the blood rushing to my head turned me deaf. It wasn't until I was back in the Honda that I realized I hadn't emptied my mail bag. I had a stack of letters that needed mailing. I had to go back. Thank goodness for mail slots.

And so, Valentine's Day has come and gone. It's already in the past. I hope there was more Love and happiness than disappointment and lack. I hope Cupid had your back.


Somehow, someway, somedays, running into the sun eventually leads me indoors. And so it did today. I bought something new. I used it before I made it home again. I opened it at one long stop light. I'd read my mail while basking in the post office's parking lot. Yes, I read all my mail before I came home. Lovely mail it is too. And, while waiting my turn in line, the tall, white haired gentleman in front of me turned, looked at my stash and said, "Oh, you didn't have to buy me a Valentine." He laughed and treated me like we knew each other. I "honey-hushed" him with a wave of one hand and said, "Well, dang. I sure am glad that I didn't." Before he could do more than laugh some more, the clerk told him it was his turn. He laughed and complied. How about that? I tell Erin and JC that I must look funny 'cause every where I go someone messes with me. *grin* The funniest part is this: I am so shy, self-conscious, often bashful, that I imagine I'm invisible. Well, today, Susan's beautiful Valentine sure caught someone's attention. Thanks Susan. I think. Your little valentine stamp is as cute as a button on my favorite blouse. The flowers remind me of violets. I'll scan and share tomorrow.

I forgot myself again, but I meant to tell you how I put my new mail in my new "Semicolon" accordion folder before I made it home again. I am a reformed corresponder. I aim for order and better letter-keeping. The "Semicolon" was marked down 40%. It's small enough for letters and fits on my desk if I move a bunch of "stuff." Stuff rhymes with snuff. Confession: Having been a spelling contest winner in my yoot, I misspelled accordion. I have been spelling it "accordian" until now. Thank goodness I don't play the accordion, because if I did, it would be insulted as the result of my ignorance; yet in my defense, I have not had many occasions to use the word in its written form. 

Now. With ownership comes responsibility. My new "Semicolon" comes with these. It has 19 pockets. Oh! It's called the "Akkordeonbox." All one word. The strip that came with says: "Just as the semicolon binds two sentences together, the Semikolon; products complement each other in their use and shade of colors." Looks like I misspelled semicolon as well, huh? And, it is a box, and not a folder. When will I remember: Read once, edit nonce. So, what shall I write on the labels? The alphabet? Days of the week? Help? Please. 

End of Part I


  1. Now this is just ridiculous I have been leave comment after comment on your blog and for some reason they are not posting and I dont know why ??? why ??? why ???

    1. Not sure of what's up. Thanks for telling me.