Friday Mailbag

Friday Mailbag


 Dear Mr. Frost:

You do create a lovely landscape.  There is something almost magical about watching the sun hit your handiwork on the hills and trees and rooftops of my neighborhood.  Brilliant!  And the patterns you create on my garage windows?  Nothing short of stupendous.  Really.  Each pane is a little miracle.  Still, despite the beauty you create, I have this to say to you:  Hit the road, Jack!  (And don't you come back no more. . .)


Dear Ryka Shoe Company:

We've had a long relationship, you and I.  Oh, I know it's been a bit rocky for the last two years -- but for the previous ten years, we were constant companions.  How I loved your old studio dance shoes!  The support was perfect for my every leap and spin.  The quality was excellent, and I could count on getting 6 solid months of wear out of each pair.  And the fit?  Why, Cinderella's glass slipper comes to mind.  Sure, your shoes weren't particularly attractive in a "fashion forward" kind of way, but who cared?  You were so consistently perfect for so long.  But then . . . you changed!  First, your quality slipped.  Odd seams were splitting.  Soles cracked.  Problems you never used to have.  And then, well . . . your standard studio shoes disappeared completely . . . and you replaced them with pretty faces.  Suddenly, you were all about being "on trend," playing with colors and patterns and such -- like you were Nike or something.  I didn't want hot teal shoes that fell apart and made my knees hurt.  I wanted my plain, old, ugly, black studio shoes!  I'll admit it . . . I started looking around.  I had flings with Capezio and New Balance.  Where did it get me?  Metatarsal issues and a flare-up of my Achilles tendinitis.  So I'm back.  But I'm still not happy with you.  At all.


Dear Jenny and JoJo:

I know you're used to a walk every morning when I return from the gym.  But really, we can't go right now.  Because the temperature is -15ºF before the wind chill.  Too cold.  Just too friggin' cold.  You'll have to trust me.  STOP LOOKING AT ME WITH THE SAD DOG EYES.  Maybe next week. . . For today, I'll make it up to you by giving you a ride in the car.


Dear Garden Buddha:

I haven't forgotten you.  Please continue to hold down the fort until the thaw comes.  



Happy Friday!  (Stay warm.)




Friday Mailbag

My week . . . summed up in letters!


Dear Snow Plow Company,

Your excuses for the delays in plowing out our driveway this winter are wearing a little thin.  Yes.  We know the weather - and snow, in particular - creates busy-ness for you.  (The weather - and snow, in particular - is why we HIRED you in the first place.)  But you are a large lawn and landscaping company.  You have a fleet of snow plows.  Plowing snow is what you DO in the winter.  (In fact, it's all you CAN do in the winter.)  Your competitors manage to get my neighbors' driveways plowed hours and hours (and sometimes even days) ahead of my own driveway.  In fact, during our recent snowstorm, some of my neighbors had their drives plowed TWICE before we had even one pass from your plows.  (And we aren't even going to discuss the crappy job you're doing once you get here.)  (For now.) (You did much better last year.)  Anyway, let's just say I have some calls out.  To the plow companies my neighbors use.  I'll keep you posted.


Dear Mom Shopping at Michaels Last Tuesday,

I tend to be very supportive of moms-shopping-with-their-kids, having Been There myself (with kids who were not inclined to shop).  I try not to judge (well, mostly), and I try to remember what it was like when I was in your shoes.  But.  I'm just going to throw this out.  When your daughter is insisting on buying, say, a bottle of calligraphy ink . . . and you tell her that, no, we already have some at home . . . say it with meaning.  It's easy.  Say, "No.  We already have some at home.  Put it back."  And then, just walk on.  Don't keep standing there, in front of the ink display . . . with your child gripping tight to the bottle of ink while she intones, repeatedly, "But I want MY OWN ink."  You are the mother.  Make her put it back and WALK AWAY.  She'll follow you.  Instead of clogging up the entire art supplies aisle with a pointless and meaningless negotiation about a bottle of ink.  (Because your other two children were also there.  Touching all the things.)  Really.  You should have just said NO and continued on with your shopping.  Because it was clear that your daughter didn't believe you meant what you said.  Probably because this is How Things Go in your family.  I didn't stick around long enough to hear the final verdict, but I'm kinda betting you caved and let her get the ink.  The situation was definitely heading in that direction.  (I'm just going to say it:  The teen years are gonna be really challenging for you.)


Dear Summer,

I miss you.  Please come back.


Dear AAA Auto Club Representative,

Sometimes I have a tendency to procrastinate.  Sometimes I really mean to do something . . . like add my son to our AAA Auto Club membership . . . but it falls to the not-so-urgent part of my To Do List . . . and I just put it off.  (For years, sometimes.)  Often, I worry about him on his back-roads commute every day, especially in the winter, with no AAA Auto Club membership to bail him out.  Like . . . say, what if he hits a pothole and blows out a tire when it's barely 1 degree?  But, apparently, I've not been worried enough to motivate myself to call and add him to our plan (for only $19 a year).  So yesterday morning, when he really DID hit a pothole and blow out a tire when it was barely 1 degree, I thank you for allowing me to add him to our membership Right Then and There.  You were On It . . . even thought I hadn't been.  So, thank you, AAA Auto Club Representative.  This procrastinating mom will be eternally grateful!
PS - You'll be happy to know that in the time it took me to make the call to you and get him all signed up, he was able to change his own tire and drive 10 miles to the nearest tire shop.  But, it still warms my heart that you were so willing to help bail me out of my own procrastination on this particular issue.


Have a great weekend, y'all!



Friday Mailbag

 It's Friday.  Time, once again, for reaching into the Friday mailbag . . . for Friday letters à la Paula!



Dear Intense Spinning Woman,

Although you're not a "regular" to my Saturday morning spin class, I could tell right away . . . that you take your spinning very seriously.  The cycling shirt and matching cycling gloves were my first clue.  But when you placed TWO matching water bottles in the holders on your cycle, I knew you were Hard Core.  (That's a whole lot of hydration for a 45 minute class.  Y'know?)  And then, when class had started, and I glanced in the front mirror and saw those dual water bottles reflected there, I nearly fell off my bike.  Because those matching water bottles . . . with their bright pink lids and their black center nozzles . . . looked just like two comic boobs.  Right there.  On your bike.  For the entire 45 minutes.  (Really?  Just . . . really?)


Dear Groceries,

Each week, I anticipate your arrival by crafting a weekly meal plan.  I carefully put together my "grocery guest list" -- deciding which of you to invite into my home.  And, although time-consuming, I understand the value of good planning, and I don't despise those tasks.  Likewise, I don't mind wandering up and down the aisles of my neighborhood grocery store, seeking you out individually and packing you carefully into my cart.  I don't even mind picking up your tab.  But.  When you are gathered together as a group, neatly packed into my environmentally-friendly, re-usable grocery bags, the thrill is gone.  Because, you see, I HATE unloading you and putting you away in my pantry and my refrigerator.  With a passion.  (Sometimes the truth hurts.)


Dear Jared Flood,

How do I love thee?  Let me count the ways.
You bring sunshine . . . to a cloudy day.
Took my love, took it down; climbed a mountain and I turned around.
Thank you for your newest Look Book.  As always, it was cause for personal celebration and Just What I Needed on a cold, winter Tuesday.


Dear Water Pens,

How is it that I never met you before?  Where were you hiding . . . Aqua Splash, AquaDoodle, WaterBrush, AquaFlow . . . all of you?  Watercolor will never be the same.



And, speaking of LETTERS . . .

It's time to start thinking about the Month of Letters challenge!  In case you're not familiar with the Month of Letters, you can read all about it here.

I'm ready to begin!  I've printed out my planning calendar, and this year, I even ordered some special Month of Letters stamps.

Join the fun!  Pull out your stationery and get your best pens ready . . . it's time to get writing!



Friday Letters

On Fridays, Paula does Friday Letters on her blog to sum up her week.  I love it -- and decided to copy the concept myself.  So, with a hat tip to Paula, here's my first crack at Friday letters. . . 


Dear VP of Programming for the Kalamazoo Master Gardener group,

Thank you so much for pulling my name out of the hat for a door prize at last Monday's meeting.  I never win anything, so I was shocked -- but then delighted when I realized I would be bringing home that little pink hyacinth.  It's blooming now, there on my windowsill, and bringing the promise of spring to this cold winter day.


Dear Tom,

I know it wreaks havoc with your work and all, but I am so happy your plans changed and you WON'T be making that trip to Mumbai next month after all.  I like having you around.  XO


Dear January People,

Yes.  You clog up the parking lot and fill up my classes and cause major headaches on the indoor track.  But, please.  Hang with it!  You've made a commitment and you've started coming to the gym to work out.  Don't give up yet!  (Just stay out of my way.)


Dear Terri,

Every Saturday morning when I wake up, I sing your praises and thank you for convincing me that Run Camp is a miserable, cold, spiteful experience in January and February (and sometimes even March) and that you would never, ever do it again.  I am so grateful that I can stay in my warm bed early on cold Saturday mornings and not be out running in a herd, no matter the weather.  Just for fun.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.
PS - I'm so sorry you got roped into it again, though.  That will teach you to make commitments at New Year's Eve parties.  Just sayin.


TGIF, y'all!