The past two weeks have been good for mail. Not too much, not too little, but just enough that I'm able to keep up. Elle started the surprise cycle with her amazing artistamps; things seem to have taken off from there. I like to enjoy my gifts before I share; that way it doesn't seem like I'm doing what my grandmother called "showing off," if I wait awhile. I try to anyway, but you know what it's like to be bowled over by someone's thoughtfulness and awesomeness.
Like this. Coming on the tail of Elle's goodness kite, I still don't know what to say beyond "Amazing Grace!" And, Thank you, Captain Mike. Your wife is one talented lady. I pick these up every time I see them, wondering if some of her skills will be absorbed into my fingers. Among the Chinese, and in the estimation of this limner, you are indeed blessed with good fortune, sir. There is a mat and a frame in this little fish's future. It will hang in my gallery next to Suddenly Susan's photographs.
I wish I read Chinese. What does the chop say? I owe you for something you did for me. When it needs retelling I tell about it to anyone willing to listen. Decades ago, when my life was up for grabs, I learned that angels are messengers of light. Kathleen sent me a little card that says something like this: Blessed are the cracked for they let in light. I crack, therefore I am cracked. You were a bearer of light when it was so dark I almost couldn't see. Thank you, sir. P.S. I like your handwriting!
Oh my! I just checked Laura's blog. Wow. Oh, wow. I forgot my train of thought. LOL. Thanks for your kind and generous words. Am quite flustered now. That's some talent. Wow.
¶This began as another short post. It was meant to be a vehicle for a cartoon I did for Nephew II, so stop now if you're no in the mood for a little run-on. Sorry, but anyhow, several days ago neighbor one and I were admiring my flowerbed. She was telling me something about the violets when I interrupted:
Me: Myrna, wow. Oh, wow.
Myrna: What's wrong? What is it?
Me: Myrna, I just tasted a moon pie!
Myrna: What? A moon pie? Are you okay? You're tasting moon pies?
Me: Yes, I just tasted a moon pie, and it was banana. I haven't had a moon pie in years.
Not long after that, probably the same or the next evening, I posted about my desire to treat everyone to a Coke and a moon pie. Well, this afternoon I went to Kroger's for vegetable bouillon and bok choy. I still crave it. Plus, it doesn't require much chewing, and I was hungry. On my way to check out I saw moon pies. Dozens of them! A three sided display of moon pies! Last week Nephew II wrote about missing my good food. He warned me that care packages are allowed only if fifty-two items are sent; one for each recruit in his battalion. He despaired. Well, guess what. There's an answer to every problem. I bought fifty-eight moon pies. Most are banana, but some are chocolate, vanilla, and orange. Orange? Really?
So. It's raining mail and moon pies this week! It took four bags but only two boxes to hold fifty-eight moon pies. They weight a lot all boxed up. Nephew II and his battalion are worth it.
Since the guys like my little Berds, you know I had to draw a label, right? I've enhanced it a bit since this scan, but you get my meaning, yes? There's another one on the drawing board. Do you reckon the Marines will be ticked off at a Berd in uniform? If yes, what's the worst they can do to me? Make me enlist?
It's KISS time. Keep it simple sister! So I'm signing off for the night. All about mail rain tomorrow.
Sleep well. And thank you for stopping by.