(This, on the frig. If you’re in one of those Super Tuesday states, it would be a great day to VOTE!)
Have I mentioned the nature of the United States Postal Service as it operates in Chicago? It’s unique. Mail is delivered on even numbered Wednesdays, every other Friday and the first Monday of the month. Very important mail is hidden inside the neighbor’s Victoria Secret catalog. No mail is forwarded. There are clear indications that the mailman “goes postal” at our mail slot; much of the mail that is delivered is shredded, with half the envelope on the rainy door mat outside and the other half in tatters on the inside. After that, the mailman is tuckered out and he can frequently be seen napping in his truck outside, while blocking access to the alley drive.
Rather than ask this gentleman to do more work, we’ve opted to have our neighbor MAIL our mail to Florida during the winter. We buy prepaid flat rate boxes and once a week she sifts through all the catalogs for hidden tax documents and bank statements and sends it off. Down here, we get pizza coupons in the mailbox 5 days a week and then, on Thursdays, the doorbell rings and our pleasant mail person here hands me an eight pound box of mail. It’s a process, of sorts.
(this pile includes my ABSENTEE BALLOT. Rich says they don’t even count them unless it’s too close to call. Too costly. Sigh. I voted, in any case.)
Last week, I got this e-mail from my neighbor, word for word:
There was a package outside your door from Jane in Indiana that was marked perishable – so I ate it. Hope you don’t mind. What I actually did was put the entire package in your refrigerator. Will you ask Lee to mail it?
Killed a rat last Monday night. First one we’ve seen in a year. Big, big sucker, really had some heft to it when I gift-wrapped it for the trash. The previous Sunday, Donna exited the garage ahead of me and the beast damn near ran over her foot. I knew it right away because Donna shrieked in a way I never heard before, and never want to hear again.
Some good snow on the ground, real purty, and you probably already know it’s been colder’n shit, which doesn’t sound logical but you know what I mean.
Hope all is well with you.
We miss these neighbors, a lot. They’ve already been down once earlier in the year and we’re hoping they’re coming again. Anyway, Lee did mail the package from Jane along with the week’s mail and this is what came:
As though we needed 3 pounds of the most delicious, delectable peanut butter fudge with strong overtones of caramel. Oh my, oh my, oh my. I’m headed over to Jane’s to explain the delay in thanking her. The mail thing and then the time it took to recover from the sugar buzz.
Amy and Judy had a lovely time; me, too. The original plan was for a long weekend but as Judy sort of melted into the porch furniture and announced that she was relaxed for the first time since Fred had died I urged her to stay. Then Amy was jealous so she stayed too and we had even more wonderful time together. Amy wanted to see the manatees and we went every day, sometimes twice, down to the Bayou. I kept track of the tide schedules, too. No manatee. Yesterday I went down and there were nine, of all shapes and sizes, lolling about right at the wall. Hopefully, it’s been so long since I updated that no one, including Amy, comes by to read anymore.
(contains important dietary fiber and vitamins. And something called Hynotique)
Anyway, while Amy and Judy were here we didn’t eat just fudge. We ate some local fruit, too. Star fruit, scavenged from the neighbor’s tree, is extremely high in fiber. And shellfish, with it’s heart healthy omega-3 fatty acids and long considered “brainfood”, figured heavily into our diet. Now that they are gone, I’m eating the contents of my earth boxes in an effort to lose weight. Speaking of earth boxes, I need to bring you an update on another blog friend, met “live” for the first time the other day. She’s wonderful and I see dinner in our near future.
(AllUCanEat, Tuesdays at the Fourth Street Shrimp Store)
I mentioned that both Mr. and Mrs. Hannibal were back on the scene. This is their 4th year but this year they are having to rebuild. The branch that normally holds their enormous nest came down in a storm. I was concerned that they might move on but they haven’t. The days are full of calling and crying to one another as they bring small branches to the new nest. It’s quite small for them, probably a work in progress. Mrs. Hannibal is huge and frequently puffed up and that leads me to think she is close to laying eggs, if not actively doing so. This is the week when she usually does. I’ll try to get some better pictures of them soon.
(There’s some heft to the missus these days. McCloud is laying low, as usual)
(working on the new nest, right near the site of the old one that blew down.)
(all that effort requires nourishment)