I am not surprised that writing to you (or to anyone else for that matter) comes most easily to me when I am sitting at a keyboard. My brain works so much faster than my hands these days. Actually I think it has been that way always. What has changed is my ability to slow my thoughts down. I can't seem to take that breath and just let the detritus of the day go so that I can focus on first, thoughts and second, handwriting.
Being that stereotypical Catholic girl of the 60's my penmanship is of The Palmer Method. I like it quite a lot. For addressing envelopes and writing checks.
So it seems I 'owe' you a letter although I realize that neither you nor I believe we 'owe' anything to anyone. Owe is just a word. What it implies is much more conflicting to my good nature. Anything I toss out there into the universe is given freely. Or earned. I'm certain no one I know wants to be on the earned list.
I received your last letter and as is always the case I smiled from the Post Office lobby to the front seat of the car where I quickly shut out the world and opened that envelope.
Let me tell you ... the smile doesn't wane. Your thoughts, your words, your sense of the world and how it works intrigue me. I admit distress when you wrote about having sent off a six page letter that was returned to you wet, ruined and unreadable. Took the steam out a little bit to think that you put so much effort into addressing my lengthy and (somewhat) sad story of Miss Emily's lost love.
Agreed. She deserves to be treated so much better than THAT. Don't we all? I think we are all in good shape if once in our lifetime we meet that one person who lets us in, lets us treat and love them well and offers the same thing back to us. We are in exceptionally great shape as soon as we open our hearts and perhaps a corner of our brain -- just in case.
On the Emily front things are well. We are always busy living her life to the best of her ability and my exhausting, valiant and more-than-willing effort to that end. She is a funny young woman and says the most outrageous things. For example, we went shopping for our Christmas tree which is a longer drive to the tree stand than it is to pick out the tree. Checking out takes even longer than that.
With an eye to managing decorating the tree without a step stool or whining for help I immediately went to the 5-6' Fraser fir area and found one to my liking. It was so cold out, she liked it as well as I.
Husband dutifully loaded that tree into the truck and brought it home to roost. First lights, then three or four days of ornaments one hour at a time. It's lovely.
According to Miss Emily "it's short and round. Kinda like me"