I'm forever on point like a bird dog in birding season. I might be wrong though, since I've never gone duck hunting. I just read Garden & Gun. Shucks. That makes me sound like a point setter, doesn't it? Go figure. I only mean to say I'm forever on the lookout for mail, paper, pen . . . Or as Randall and I cal it, P&PP perks (I just added the perks P, so it's not a keeper.) I'll throw a good link at you on a moment's notice. So here's one more. Catch! Letters. All credit goes to Buzzfeed.com. Here's my favorite.
I know, I know. The politically correct choice would be this one . . .
Second place is nothing to sneeze at. This is a sweet letter. Can't you feel the magic in the words? In the very notion? Oh, yes, I can! I can! But you couldn't pay me to go near a child's window in the dead of night. I can do without a vacation jail.
So. How's your Monday? Was it a moaner? I hope not. My Monday is been . . . perfect. My gift from Kerry inspired me to check in with The Fat Chick. Talk about attitude! She's feeling neglected and ignored. I soothed her ruffled feathers with strokes from my new pen. Thanks some more, Kerry and Randall. You're rock stars. Who knew I'd like the Pilot Metropolitan for inking and sketching? Randall did.
I made time to use some of the file cards I rediscovered during a cleaning spell.
I do like a good pencil. Pencils rule! Especially a carpenter's pencil. Three of these tabbed cards make a sweet set. There has to be a way to send them as postcards with tab intact, sans an envelope. We shall see.
Some wrapping was done. Thanks for giving me the birds, Kerry.
I finally used the film washi. There's a host of great ideas looping inside my head. It's the frustrating washi though. You know the kind. It tears quicker than it unrolls. No wonder it was on sale.
I especially like this compass. I know I showed it before, but the idea of finding true north appeals to me on a spiritual level. If I had to color this I'd use a gold brush pen instead of bronze for the compass and its parts. The berries would be next. Then I'd work my way around clockwise, which reminds me of one of my brother's teaching moments. He'd explained clock and counter clockwise to his then grade school son and daughter. At the end of the mini lesson he asked who could tell him how clocks run. My nephew's hand shot up, and with all the confidence of his young years he said he knew. His father said, "Tell me." Nephew replied, "On batteries!"
I finally used my last firecracker stamp. Better on a letter than on a journal page, right? Do you ever save an especially pretty stamp? I pledged to save at least one of every new stamp that I bought. Ha!
Did you get Black Cat firecrackers when you were a kid? They were primo, weren't they? Not much beat the smell of gunpowder when you're a kid shooting fireworks. I never did figure out how they plaited them together, but I'd bet Duly does. Have you been Duly Noted? Duly is so cool he's cute.
Backs are as important as what's up front.
Once in awhile ou might get mail from me that does not match the time-lapse that adds up between the date on the page, the post mark, and the date received. If you understood that, then welcome to my planet. Yes, I'll wait for a small stack to grow before making a trip to the post office. My intentions are good. Honest. Plus, I dislike using our cluster out box. No, I'm not sure why, but dropping it off at the P.O. kills two birds with two stones instead of three, but only if my aim is good. I've driven post the post office a time or two and brought the mail back with me. That happens on long errand days. I didn't do a postal run today. Staying home felt like the thing to do. Everyone needs a day off.
I enjoyed my new implement. It got a great workout.
implementnoun |ˈimpləmənt| a tool, utensil, or other piece of equipment, especially as used for a particular purpose: agricultural implements.
I found my chicken stationery! Use it or lose it, right? Misplace it, too! This is what I did: I typed my letter because my arm complained of being sorely overused. Those trigger point injections fool you into forgetting your need to set limits. New pens will make you do foolish things. So, to make getting a typed letter instead of a handwritten one just as much fun, I printed on the back side and left the front pristine and word-free. Cool-cool, huh? There's modern calligraphy, so why not modern letter crossing? No? Well, you can't blame a sister for trying.