No. Yesterday was hump day. I'm just too lazy to come up with a quick replacement title right now, so pretend it's catchy and appropriate for this post. Maybe I'll change the title before I'm done. One never knows, do one? I had a little German rock sugar with my tea. Sugar gives me a headache, and my brain kicks into hyper-drive . . .
I wrote four letters last night. Well, three letters and a notecard actually. Okay. Two letters, a notecard, and a single page note-letter. Do you ever forget what it's like to send a plain old envelope any more? I fretted over this practically naked one for a few minutes before I decided that sometimes less really is more. I'm that way with get-well cards sometimes. Once in a great while Hallmark, et al. get it right, and I wonder why should I mess with perfection. I might add a sentence or two and identify myself before sealing the envelope.
Looks like I tried to compensate here, huh? Truth is, there was too much negative space between the two stamps. The redness to the left tugged attention to that side, but only after the "confidential" stamp failed. The arrow did the trick, don't you think? I wonder what my art teachers would say if they saw these things.
I was just having fun with this one. I needed to break in a tin of stamps I bought mid-summer. Do you ever put off breaking in new stamps because you want to hold on to the unsullied surfaces for a while? Or do you dive right in? See? There goes that hoarding gene kicking in again. The world could have ended in June, and I'd have missed out on having a whole bunch of fun.
There's a blue moon, so why not a blue gnome too? Could he be Papa Smurf's missing link? I like this guy. I'll let him out again real soon. And, he'll be a paler shade of blue.
When's the next blood moon? The apple and orange reminded me of the blood moon eclipse. I missed it. But the day after, the lovely book, The Beauty of Different was delivered to my door. I've had great good mail every day this week.
That heavy bottle of ink came this afternoon. Sapphire. From Pelican's Edelstein Ink Collection. We never know when to expect mail. Today I didn't mind much. Monday's mail was delivered after 5 pm. Delivery times change with each new mail person who takes over our route. I almost missed the mailman this afternoon. He was early! He rang the doorbell, left the box, and . . . I forget which day a copy of The Anatomy Lesson made it, but I finally finished The Paying Guests, which did not come via . . .
Haha-ha! You got it!
Now, about the first cartoon. Haven't you wondered that very same thing? Well, let me tell you this. I felt like Grimm this afternoon. I know the mailman saw me with my stack of mail. He heard me open the door moments after he rang our bell. He had to have seen me from the corner of at least one eye, seeing as how he was midway across our grass by the time I called out, and he had time to toss something into the truck, get in the truck, start it up, and check for traffic before he pulled away.
He drove the length of two houses before he stopped at the next cluster of boxes. I know he saw me in his rear view mirror. So, he exited on the right, walked towards me, and had his hand out before I'd reached the middle of our street. I smiled and asked if he'd take my letters. "Yes ma'am," he said. And I, "Thank you." God, but I sounded like Brenda Leigh! What would Grimmy have done for real?
Ya' gotta like mail humor! "Mother Goose & Grimm" rank right up there with the old "Crankshaft" comics, back when he was still backing over mailboxes and deliberately leaving children at the bus stop. And Maxine! Stereotypical Maxine.
Here's another, just in case I get slapped with a cease and desist order. Save my bacon and visit the artist's site. Laugh in short controlled bursts, then read on. I'll tell you about The Beauty of Different letter another day.