I didn't know what to think when I saw the return address. Had the Mangler struck again? Who did I know in Tennessee? Had I broken a mail law? Does nude art on a postcard count against me?
My hands shook so hard it took a minute to get to this. Then I grinned. 'Cause I got it!
You have no idea how tempted I was to send a load of these. I should have. I really really should have because this is such a cool gift--a gift everyone would like. Thank you, Philip. This was worth the swim to the post office. *grin*
The card inside is just as cool.
I left an impression on more than my psyche. Isn't that interesting? Some people are quite clever and willing to try unique opportunities instead of believing no one will care, be impressed, or realize the importance of events . . . Or is it just me who doesn't always know someone who might enjoy such a simple momentous act of magical-thinking-come-true-and-captured-in-ink? Another lost opportunity. I live in a world where I'm the only one . . . Does this mean I'm a mail nerd? Oh shucks. *grin* Philip, how'd you know? *laughing* Thank you for an experience I'll tell anyone who'll listen. So far Minuet has been my only audience.
And there's this. It identified itself the second I saw it. There's one of the prettiest little weeping willows in the front yard of the first house you see when you turn into our subdivision. It's all I see through the windshield and window. My willow is different. It's big and tall and not at all dainty. It just grew from out of nowhere, and it was love at first sight. It bows gracefully and before the wind. I imagine its susurrations are in a secret language that's singularly their own that don't require decoding, since I'm the only human who understands it. It's personal like that.
There's poetry all around. This makes me smile each time I read it. Whorls in snail shells were the first thing to come to mind unbidden. Sacred geometry. Mmm. And tea. Thank you, Anna. I'd meet you beneath the willow, we'd drink purple tea, and discuss the sacred geometry dude willingly and happily.
Thanks for such a gentle reminder too. I wish I'd remembered it when I talked with my aunt earlier. I've had a string of need-to-wear-my-invisible-crown-days lately. Friends make them bearable and forgivable. Penfriends especially. Ben Franklin, thanks for the US Postal Service.
All this came in a single day's mail. Note the rainbow. JC laid them out on the kitchen counter where he knows I'll make my first stop. Junk mail seldom makes it past the common table.
Penelope Pig's cousin? With rainbow wings no less! When pigs fly, huh? *grin* All that rain and nary a rainbow appeared. I'm still shaking my head over that one.
I've worn such a skirt. Would have skipped the sausage casing dress though.
This cat among tulips appeals to me on a number of levels. I kept running my fingertips atop the images. I had a black kitten when I was in college. The poor thing ran away one night. This cat reminds me of yours, dear Anna. Are the eyes golden and oracle like? *grin*
Such a treasure trove!
I made these when I was a teen! Mine were always done on black mat board though. Sorry. I didn't do the hearts! I mean I did aestheometry. It was a painfully precise undertaking because I did it without a thimble, and my tools were very basic: a pencil, a sewing needle, sewing thread, a protractor, a compass, masking tape, an Exacto blade, and mat board.
People were so impressed. My first ever art commissions were for aestheometry. Can you believe it? Teachers asked for the pieces! Our home economics hung my art on walls in her home. She never paid me a penny but I was Miss Future Homemaker of America one year, so maybe she saw freebies as payback for having taught me how to be a great future homemaker. Further proof that I was a nerd, huh? A nerdette. *sigh* Lord have mercy. Anna, you're something else. *grin* There's so much to share. Thank you for all this, and for what's to come.
. . . to be continued