Oh, who are the people in your neighborhood?
They're the people that you meet
when you're walking down the street . . .
They're the people that you meet
the very ones you don't want to greet
just in case they have to sneeze
and give you a second hand disease . . .
Or, http://www.metrolyrics.com/people-in-your-neighborhood-lyrics-sesame-street.html. I prefer Sesame Street's version, don't you? My littlest neighbors are sick. Alex sounds like he has a frog in his throat, his bronchial tubes hurt, he had a temperature, and just did not feel good at all. His mom took him to the doctor two days ago. I promised to check on him, but my fever spiked and I crawled back to the malinger's watch list, pulled the covers up to my neck and . . . Well, here I am.
A neighbor who's just back from Rwanda stopped by the other day. She's sick. Not like that, but she doesn't know who she flew with; JC is almost well. The regular play group is absent, the basketball goal lays abandoned next to the driveway, adults are home from work because they've caught something from their children, and the mailman delivers mail in the evening. At least we think it's the mailman. JC gets the mail at dusk.
He mailed my out-going for me this afternoon. Don't be thrown by the stamped date. It's late. I made postcards from an unfinished watercolor of a lighthouse. The painting is over eleven years. There are several versions. The other is half finished too.
I'm out of Kleenex, I'm almost out of patience, but I still have wet markers, a new pad of Copic paper, and my imagination works well. So, I made stationery. It began as an idea about talking pumpkins and messages sent through the pumpkin vine. The phone rang and that was that.
Then I was thirsty, so I finished my cold tea. Pen and ink are easy. The spoon was in the cup. My glasses needed cleaning, so they morphed into a model. I think the brown stuff in the jar is Nutella. I forgot what the label looks like, and since one can only draw what they know . . . Forgive me for the knife, please? It was an afterthought. I thought the recipient of the letter I'd write on the sheet might get the idea that I ate butter with my fingers, and I couldn't figure out if that slice is cheese, cheesecake, or pound cake. I'd use my fingers on the Nutella for sure. Well, maybe not. And, maybe the butter is for that slice of whatever.
I had to put aside The Goldfinch, yet again. Seemed like the more I read, the more I had left to read. I read for hours at a time too. The author talks too much. She's beyond generous! She tried to give away every word she's ever learned. Have you read it? This is my second attempt to finish this book.
We both know why I chose this one. Right? Such a clever cover. Uh-oh. I just thumbed through it; there's what looks like an entire Q&A chapter. The saving grace might be the letters, but only if they are excerpts from the author's father's actual letters. Immigrant stories are always interesting.
There are only two tea bags left inside this box. I know I'll be completely well very soon. I like the box but like black breakfast tea even more. Did you ever read the package on your cereal box when you were a kid? Because you were bored? I did. I'd read almost anything back then. When I zero in on the details of this tea box I imagine myself in the scene. That lamb is looking at me. That stile needs to be sturdier; I'll work on it this weekend. Why there are cricket players nearby is baffling, but my neighbor, the woman sipping tea . . . She must be sick too! I'd rather talk to the lamb!
I sat right up when I saw this! "Dead Letters."
Look at the seals! All those red lovelies.
Want a closer look-see? It's curious, huh?
And there's this. I immediately thought of Pinky & the Brain. Who wants to rule the world? Not I. I have enough of a hard time ruling myself. I remember reading the story behind this but I'll read it again.
Yes, the Smithsonian does it again. The stories behind the red seals and Hitler's stationery are worth the reading alone. Oh, shush yourself, George! There's a photo of Eliot Ness. J Edgar Hoover had it in for him. Mum's the word though. It's Carmex time.
Be well, everyone. And write on.
The giveaway winner will be announced tomorrow.
So. Who are the people in your neighborhood?
In your neighborhood?
In your neigh-bor-hood?
Da da da-da-da-da da!