September 18, 2014
. . . stays this limner from her appointed mail rounds when she has a stack of mail burning her palms. Okay, not if I have vacation postcards that are way past due. I've been squeezing all the holiday glow possible from the best time I've had in a long while, and it translates into a slowed down mail metabolism. In my support I must repeat the telling of how I mailed eighteen cards from Chicago, and say, yet again how Erin mailed my last minute card the day after JC and I left. Yesterday, I mailed seventeen postcards, 3 Lazy-grams, and one letter. I'm catching up!
This photo was taken from the post office parking lot with my iPhone yesterday afternoon. For all the Houstonians who complained about the rain must have forgotten all those prayers they sent to heaven, begging for rain, because they sure are whining about getting their prayers answered now. Transplants groan about how they hate our weather, calling it bipolar and such. Well, hello! We can't change anything about the weather, so the payoff must be a psychological one, therefore we whine. But, we natives are allowed to whine. It's our weather, after all. We have the weather we are meant to have. I don't know everything for sure, but what I do know is this. There's never a parking problem at the post office when there's rain or a threat of rain. There were fewer than a handful of people in the lobby yesterday, and I walked from the lobby, straight through the double doors, and there was no one ahead of me! It's even
worse better when it snows, which is as rare as rooster teeth. And, wouldn't you know there were more clerks than customers? Where do they hide out on busy days?
See my out mail. I was stacked. Oh! And, I took delight in dressing up my lone little letter. Lately, I've spent bits of time explaining why I embellish my mail to more than a handful of people who have never heard of mail art! Imagine that. And, did I tell you about the day I saw a young man mailing the most unique wedding invitations I'd ever seen up until then? No? Well, the invites were in faux glass bottles that had "beach" sand and tiny sea shells inside! He'd bought them at the Party Store. I so want to top that. Some day.
I forgot to include the package in my little mail tally! I'm itching to tell you what it is but if I did, I'd ruin a lovely surprise. So I won't.
I will, however, show you the cover of the ten-fourteen or so copies of FLOW that finally found their way to Barnes & Noble, but only after the one I ordered arrived via The Netherlands post just before we went on vacation. One of my favorite booksellers confessed that not a single copy was sold, and he explained why the magazines were MIA. The US distributor quit. It took awhile for another to take their place. My copy was damaged; the postcards are bent. I wrote to FLOW, and guess what.
The sent me the latest issue! Yes, it's damaged too. Their mailers aren't very strong for such a lengthy voyage that includes loading and being tossed about by Manglers. I have written to offer my suggestions, but suggestions are often like . . . Well, you know what I mean. This issue convinced me to keep on buying FLOW despite the price. I mean, how can I not when it is a work horse that plows through new terrain, sows seeds of inspiration, and I get to reap the benefits that come with seeing expressions of paper love through foreign eyes? Such loveliness gets me through snow, rain and the lovely gloom of stormy days when I'd rather be . . .
P.S. Wishing you rain, everyone in Weeds.