Evening Mary.

You know how I value our friendship.  Or maybe you don't.  But you should know that I do.  There are various reasons, perhaps the most important in my mind is your absolute loyalty to Miss Emily in spite of the fact that you have never met her.  Add your willingness to express exactly how you feel about whatever it is we're discussing and well, we're a match made in heaven as far as Internet friends go.  We may not hold the same interests, political views or religious inclinations (and maybe we do) but there is that wonderful mix of I can be honest and say what I think and you can too.  You have never hurt my feelings.  

Like other friendships, it has built itself on trust and time.  I feel no need to judge what you say or how you think or how you spend your time.  I sit back and enjoy you for you.  It's hugely refreshing to recognize that this is how true friendship is.  Or, you know, can be. 

When you write your letters to me and express yourself in your very own unique way, sometimes I don't completely understand your writings.  But I always understand your meanings.  I know you get me.  

I have to tell you that this has not been the easiest week.  No big deal for the most part but now I'm looking in the tunnel and it's not light I see at the end. It is that oncoming train.  I'm used to things not going as planned and I am exceptionally good at shifting gears and going with the flow.  

But right now, at this moment I want to stomp my feet.  From the hairdryer that quit to the two trips to the veterinarian's office for medication and all that has gone on in between I am feeling frayed around the edges, tattered, torn, busted.  

It is exactly one week until Christmas and while I believe that Christmas is about faith, hope, peace and love I can't seem to stop focusing on the very thing I tell others to not focus on: commercialism.

Not only have I not finished gift buying I can't decide if what I've chosen are good enough, inexpensive enough, expensive enough, trendy enough, will fit well enough or are the right dammed gift card.  And why should I, or anyone else, feel harried and worried over gifts?  We shouldn't. Right?  I was raised by a mother and father who taught me to appreciate the very smallest of gifts to the most expensive of gifts.  In exactly the same way.  Sincerely and with gratitude for the effort (if not the cost).  

So what in the world am I worrying about?  Really. 

I know you'll have an insight into that.  I look forward to it.  

Night.  
Kathy

Hey Mary,

I was just laughing at the New Yorker calendar pages you sent in your last envelope.  Sometimes a laugh comes from an unexpected place.  I have had but don't tend to use those 365 Days Of calendars. They're funny though and great for writing notes on.  In fact I had one a handful of years ago.  365 Days of Pekingese. Well, my Mackey is adorable.  He is also nearly every one of those pages.  

I saved the laugh out loud ones and every so often just pop one into an envelope and mail off to my friend Helen, the breeder. I don't always hear from her after she receives it but the next time she sees me that Old Curmudgeon giggles a little and tells me how much she enjoyed my envelope.

You were discussing Dispassionate Observation, a term I have heard but hadn't ever thought about other than to think, "how nice to observe the world with dispassionate abandon."  The way things are today, I am beginning to think there are too many practicing Buddhism for the world's good.  We seem to all be dispassionate about the things that really matter and spend inordinate amounts of energy on reality (seriously?) TV and Hyped Up Media Mash. The journalistic approach to serious news is a huge mistake. Give me the nitty gritty.  I'd rather wait until the next newscast for an accurate story full of the truth and concrete facts than listen to that vapid on-the-scene reporter repeating the same misinformation over and over.  We all need more real and less fluff. Even if it is hard to hear, difficult to watch, tough to take. 

So here's what I know about DO now.  Too much DO does indeed have its own set of problems.  But in a pinch, I'm going to step back as needed and view the world a different way.

Today I ordered some really cool tee shirts from Teefury.com (or something like that -- I nearly always have to Google again).  Why I am excited about these shirts is that they are really cool Hobbit Brew shirts and the person I'm sending them too will just get a real kick out of the shirts.  Sending two.  One for him.  One for a friend. Or not.  He's welcome to keep them both if he wants.  But it's just that I found really cool, young tees that are trendy and did I mention cool?  

I know I didn't mention that after many months of waiting and looking Miss Emily now has her puppy.  A chocolate and white Chihuahua whom she has named Princess Sadie.  We of course all call her, "Sadie".  Pretty little thing and so very sweet.  We hope that Miss Emily and Sadie will have many happy, healthy, loyal years together.  And I love that we were able to give a shelter dog a home.  From what I can tell, Sadie loves it too.

All the best,
Kathy

                            Yoshi and Sadie.  

Dear Mary,

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" 

Fondly,
Kathy