I read yesterdays's mail in the kitchen, so pardon the onions and stuff.
I'm unsure of which envelope is the most appealing, so they share the crown!
See what I mean?
See? The colors really pop in person, reminding me of ripe grapes and stuffed grape leaves, or eggplants ready to be harvested and cooked. Ah, the colors of fall!
And a trip down a country lane with "Just a few lines." I promise you I heard my grandmother and Aunt Pauline write those very words when I saw that. With the country folks, or maybe just southerners, it was always, How are you? Fine I hope," or "I'm writing just a few lines to tell you . . ." Thanks, Randall. You're as country as grits too, honey chile."
I refuse to upright this! Just because. *grinning* This is a pretty postcard. Thank you!
And then there's this. Imagine old motor mouth me at a loss for words. Double the intensity. Focus. Hard. Now try to imagine me still tongue-tied and stunned. Wow, huh? Randal sent this. A Pilot Metropolitan. Wow. JC likes its heft. I had no idea he knew what a good fountain pen was about, since he likes them about as much as Superman likes kryptonite.
I was too nervous to try it until a little while ago. It writes like . . . It writes unlike any pen I've ever used. The only Pilot I have trying is a Parallel Pen, and it smote me so. Then Randall gives me the real deal. Wow. Somehow, thank you doesn't seem right in the face of all this generosity, but thank you, Randall times a bunch. The gray ink is superior to the gray I have on hand. Thank you for it, too.
Backing up. I wish I could photograph every single item inside this pretty little package, but it would take too long. Kerry sent me some of the best ephemera anyone could ever hope to have. The glassine envelopes are exceptional in themselves, so the content just blows my mind. To quoted JC, "Are you gonna use this? All I could do in response was pucker up. Nothing came out. He knows me too well. But since I'm trying to do better, I used the pen and didn't keel over. Or die. So . . .
As you can probably tell, this post is all over the place, as are the photos. Kerry sent this cute box. You should see how I opened it! Each side is something special. Limner never looks so good as when someone else pretties me up. Wow. I have a copy of Scripts by Heller & Fili, and some nights I stroke page after page before I sleep. The bed is often littered with scraps of tracing paper. Tracing is often the one sure fire way to help my brain understand how the letters are designed. Randall and Kerry both seem to have the eye I dream of having once it's retrained. I try too hard to . . . Teacher kept telling me, "If you expect a photograph, take a picture." And I keep forgetting even at this late date in my game. I cannot make a letter as pretty as a machine, so it's time to get over myself. Right? Some creative people just do it, and it is beautiful. It's like they tell their brain/hand to let there be lettering, and their Spock replies, "Make it so." And it happens.
Now let me say this too. I took my little knife, and gingerly cut away an opening without having to unwrap the box! Yeah, it's possible, because someone else in this world understand wrapping and taping as anally as I do! Yes! Thank you, dear Kerry!
I do no understand why this knife spoiled on me, but it did. It's used strictly for paper. And I cut a flower with it that one time. Just as every woman should have a room of her own, so should she have a knife of her own. This wrapped box has a place in my future packaging album. *vbg*
You will never guess what was inside unless I tell you. So I will.
Such sweetness! And a trail to travel. A mystery to unravel.
A lovely message unfolded.
Right before my eyes.
Clean down to the paper that nestled the prize.
I peeled back layer after layer . . .
And there she lay.
I want to call her Sally May.
But I won't.
Naming her is good reason enough to host another giveaway.
A felted hen atop a spool of wool thread.
The cuteness of it all has me shaking my head.
As if all of the above wasn't nearly enough. Hello!
I know this is from yesterday's post, but reading it makes me feel good. Heather is a very good writer. There's nothing superfluous in her telling. Finding the good is a good way to live. What we practice becomes habit. I promise.
I've re-read Susan's letter again. And as promised, I've left it where she put it. The cloud-white paper against the blue of blue skies matches the lemony yellow of a sunshiny day--the perfect crayon yellow every child uses to color their sun.
Backing up again . . . Just some of what was tucked inside as icing on the cake. See why I often refrain from sharing? I don't know when to stop. It's all so good! And simply amazing. Thank you some more, dear Kerry. Such a beautiful letter.
More amazing envelopes coming to a Limner Post near you! Soon. OMG! A name for not Sally May just came to me! Guess it and win. And no, I didn't share everything I pulled from the post office box yesterday, but I came close. My eyeballs are dry from staring at this screen for so long between blinks. I have a headache, and my butt hurts from sitting too long. Thank you, dear pen friends. At least a bushel worth! I have at least a peck and a half of outgoing mail for Monday that's only half-way ready.