Jeremy gave me a tee-shirt of his with a black and white drawing of Rupert Bear. I wore it but it began to get holes. My mom, for a birthday or something, copied the drawing and a friend of ours printed it on two shirts. A black one for me and a white one for Dean. I still have mine, but I will never be a size x-small again. I’ve kept the shirt and will keep it, but not in my tee-shirt drawer anymore.
I have a very large stash of notecards, birthday cards, belated birthday cards, Christmas cards, postcards and various other holiday cards. They’ve been in a large canvas container for at least a decade and as I find more stationery I just toss it in with the rest of the cards, not really thinking what I am going to do with all those cards, some of which were my mother’s.
Today, wanting to find the perfect card for a friend, I decided to organize the stationery container — after all, I am retired and have all the time in the world.
It was an interesting trip down memory lane. A selection of the cards were cards I’d bought back when I still wrote a lot of letters. They were also from a time when, either there was nothing but saccharine pastel illustrations and sentiments on greeting cards or I actually liked saccharine pastel illustrations and sentiments on greeting cards. A lot of these were from Current, a catalog from which I ordered all of my stationery for many years. I thought that for sure Current was not around anymore, but looked it up anyway. According to its website it is still around and has been for 75 years. I am not sure who I will send those cards to.
At some point when we lived in Alexandria, I discovered Diversions, a (mostly) card store whose stock made me realize that cards could be tasteful without being overly sentimental. Sometimes I would stock up on cards there that I didn’t immediately need, just because I loved going into the store. The owner, Lindsey Bashore, was always very helpful and very friendly. My most memorable visit was the time I’d just left my obstetrician’s office after having been on bedrest for 3 weeks. I was in front of the thank-you cards, deciding how many to buy to thank for expected gifts for the baby when I felt a much stronger contraction than I’d been experiencing previously. I quickly decided and paid for my purchase and drove home. Sadly, Diversions is now closed. The last time I stopped in was a few years ago, Dean and the kids were along. I told the owner how much I’d loved shopping there and even told him about going into labor there and introduced Andrew — the child who happily was not born in the card store.
One of my plans for retirement is to write more actual letters. Maybe I will go through the stash after all. Apologies ahead of time if you get one of the saccharine ones.
I sent this note to a friend today, but wanted to share it here. It was her description of how her Roomba was such a convenient way to keep the floors swept that gave Dean the idea that he might like one. I gave him one for Christmas that he ignored for a couple of months until our friend reminded him how much she liked hers. I’ve created a monster.
Subject: I take back my gratitude about Dean liking the Roomba
We have a problem. Dean vacuums the floors far too often. Not only that, he caters to the little fellow a little too much for my liking. (I have heard him chit-chatting with it on more than one occasion.)
For example, he places heavy furniture on other furniture so Roomba can move around easier (see Exhibits A through E below. Not pictured: armchair, floor lamp and clothes rack on bed).
In addition, I saved some Styrofoam packing material to place under the front of the fridge so Roomba wouldn’t get stuck, but Dean has yet to use it and the little fella (Roomba, not Dean) gets stuck under the fridge (see Exhibit F below) on a regular basis and cries for help, but Dean is never within hearing range when this happens so I am forced to rescue it.
I write, seeking your expert advice. Should the Roomba go, or the Husband (or both)? I have already purchased an analog device (a broom) for sweeping the floors.
Sick and tired of saving the Roomba and having nowhere to sit.