Why can't I create such mind-blowing mail art? My sole contribution is obvious, so I tell myself "clever is as clever says." The postcard is an insert from Hi Fructose or Juxtapoz. Those who can, make this stuff. Those who can't do the best they can and give credit where credit is due. I'll give you the artist's name next time. When I will have found it, since I obviously don't recall it right now. Ten pieces of written mail went out that day. The boxes did not.
Here are ten more. They'll go out in Tuesday's mail bag. But not the packages. I have more to wrap. Christmas in July takes as much preparation as Christmas in December. It's just as much fun too!
I wish I'd bought more international postage. I rather like the stamp now, but still imagine a better background. Why not stars?
Seven more to go and there will be thirteen.
With all the wrapping and writing I still had time to grab the camera this afternoon. The Canon refuses to let me master it! No matter. I get lucky enough to make me look like I know what I'm doing.
We bought a makeshift bird bath this afternoon. I thought we'd had a mass suicide on our hands the other day when I saw birds on the ground with their wings spread like they'd been shot, and fell mid-flight. They were just cooling it. Seriously. No wonder they raid the muscadines everyday. It's seriously hot here and the water I've provided isn't enough.
Crepe myrtles are loving it. Water and heat are all they need. I took this shot for Anna. She likes crepe myrtles as much as I do. I loved/hated them when I was growing up. Their supple branches make great switches, and I seemed to need a whipping far too often.
I don't know what to tell you about this. Perhaps it speaks for itself.
This is my favorite ceiling. If I had a detached studio, the ceiling would be like this. I like the warm wood that reminds me of Japanese interiors, the femininity that softens everything else, and the red. Goodness! The red--not the art itself--suggests cheer and camaraderie, and you get it in Texas size doses here. If you ever visit me, this is the first place I'll take you. It really is my Cheers. Even the bus staff recognize us.
I finally harvested those muscadines I've mentioned. There were far too many to leave for the birds, so the other day Alex came over and helped us fill a dish pan with sweet, succulent, grapes. Sadly enough, he cannot reach the ones on his side of the fence.
He's grown so much! Did I mention he raises turtles now? Half his inventory died--roughly, a little over thirty. It breaks my heart. He offered to give me one and offered to provide a fish tank. I had to pass. Oh. The large one is Shelly. They entertained JC and me while we snipped clusters, and Alexis told us good stories about his new venture. Seems I know how to grow just about everything, according to my nine-year-old friend. Nothing makes me feel quite as smart as a young child. I let him harvest all the potatoes again, and he took enough figs home to share with his sisters.
So . . .
Answer: Christmas in July, daily mail, and dealing with heat that makes my fingers swell.
Question: What is "pretty much what I'm writing about, and how I'm spending my first week of July"?
How are your days?