Oh, hello Mister and Missus Stalwart. How lovely of you to be the frame that encompasses your gorgeous surroundings, along with your wee children. If I ever doubt that something can be as lovely as you, standing your ground while making the rest of everything near you more gorgeous I will remind myself of your beauty.
Thanks In Advance For Your Loveliness,
Tina the Trunk Admirer
836. The hullabaloo around beeswax candles
837. Wool sweaters
838. Terrifying Halloween decorations in kid heavy neighborhoods
Dear Mister Big Man of All Things,
Hey listen I know you’re just about as busy as the person in charge of keeping Victoria Beckham waxed and all but if you could find it in your schedy to remind me of my majestic parts I’d be forever indebted. And I’m not talking about Nobel Peace Prize winning or Astronaut To the Moon Riding kind of stuff—I’m just talking about those days when I wake up feeling full of light and I am able to carry that through until at least late afternoon. Or when I am able to carry on a loving conversation with my mother without taking the bait she propels out to me like some smarmy fly fisherman. I’m talking about how I wiggle into my majestic strength and serenity. How, at certain times, I am capable of letting the storyline go and I just drift along, unencumbered by grief or anger or resentment or tumult. Can you remind me of this? Can you help me notice those times when I am a heavyweight in my own corner, ready to take on the next challenge like some weightless angel in search of something plain and gorgeous, thank you amen you may be seated.
Yours In Selfie Selfersonism,
Teresa Tries Very Hard
Sometimes on Saturday, after our morning is bombarded with tree trimmers and construction workers and noisy pedestrians walking to the beach, we like to take our place on our especially high perch just to make sure that everything stays in order.
Can I See Your I.D. Please?
Sergeant Silky Ears