Thursday, December 1, 2016

Feeling Like the Back End of an Elephant

If you ever find yourself feeling like the back end of an elephant, shake it off. You can never ever imagine what the back end of an elephant feels like, for real. So think of yourself as the truest thing you are: human. To err is human. To fall and get up again is why there are ups and downs. Forgiveness begins at home. And, try not to be a show-off. Try not to say, "I told you so!" It might feel good, but don't say it. Don't even think it. Because if you do, you might jinx yourself. 

Remember all he "Olympics" mail I sent to Rio? Mailed it and forgot about it. I didn't even keep count because it wasn't about the numbers. Well, maybe. To some, one might be the loneliest number, but that's all it takes sometimes. One is better than none, right? You'll never guess who wrote back. I put the envelope someplace to keep it safe until I got around to telling you about it. Guess what else. I cannot find it. Perhaps that's what I get for wanting to show off? 

This is all sounding like lost-so-go-seek. I found all those stamps I ordered some months ago, during my search of said Olympian's response. Yea, me. 

The more I searched the more I discovered.

I remember these! How did I lose misplace so many stamps??? 

Q:  How can so many goodies hide in plain sight? 
A:  Perhaps you have too much stuff, girl.
A:  Perhaps.

I wish I'd kept a tally of all the mail I've released into the world. Come the new year you'd better believe that I will. Keep talley that is. If I remember. That, dear people, is the secret to successful tallying. Remembering! 

Lovely stamps--perfect choices. The Olympics and Matthew Henson, two favorites that are right up my alley. Matthew Henson's descendants must be proud. Nat' Geo did a story about them one year; They look just like him. I still wonder if it's true that he arrived at the top of the world first because Peary was too ill and had to remain back at the camp until later. I still want to sleep in an igloo. Are they as warm as we've been led to believe? Do you wonder if ink flows from fountain pens there? How often is mail delivered? I wonder who the first Inuits were. Why did they choose to stay? How did they know what to eat? Just wondering. I'd like to get a letter from the North Pole. From someone who lives on the North Pole. In the North Pole? And, no, not from Santa! Or elves. Polar bears either. Speaking of people who live in freezing climes? I discovered a new word today, thanks to Susan Branch. It's hygge! Look it up, or follow this link: 

More on hygge later, but, until then, I consider writing mail, reading mail, reading books and drawing  good hygge. 

So is this. "The lines are very quaintly writ." Don't you just love it? Thank you, dear Anna. Imagine a letter written by a stranger to a stranger and you have the story of us. It set me thinking about pen friends--people we will never truly know, yet we share ourselves nonetheless. I saved a quote that says we read because we want to connect. I scoffed. Quotes aren't necessarily true simply because they are pithy. We tend to hold on to the ones we connect with. Right? And so, I believe it is with pen friends. Every once in awhile, I feel so connected with you that it feels a little scary. But then I settle down, and recognize the truth that we are more alike than we are different. I like to believe that I am a lot like Matthew Henson too, because I want to believe I would have been foolish daring enough to try to make it to the North Pole too, given the chance. Then I come to my senses, and am perfectly honest with myself. I confess, "Girl, you like creature comforts too much to have ever lived like an explorer." I laugh because I haven't always been this way. Sometimes I feel like I'm following the back end of an elephant--holding tight to its tail while it does all the trailblazing. 

Since the best letters are ones with the lines that are very quaintly writ, I'll try to write some tonight.

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