Woof-woof-woof -- Circles to Jeri (BONUS post)

OK - this is a bonus - because I think the one below - which was scheduled is a re-run.

The past 6 weeks have been a blur - and I just got home....and -yikes-
etc--- {}{}{} While this post was written a while ago - it is an accurate representation of my inner voice.

This envelope would not have made it onto the blog because it is such a dog - but, it has a nice story to go along with it.

Jeri always sends me the prettiest birthday cards in lovely envelopes. I always intend to do something Jeri-worthy for her. Mostly, I forget her birthday. But this year during my Swedish death cleaning, I found an orange Hermes box that I had been saving to send to her. Jeri loves orange and I wanted to fill it with a spectacular orange inspired birthday diorama. It would have been breathtakingly gorgeous. But, my art history teacher (from 1969-71) had just died suddenly and unexpectedly (mid 70's) and I thought to myself: You are going to die one day and there is no way you will get around to all the fun little projects that are piled up. So, I filled the box with more random paper items that were in my hoard. Then I pulled the paper out of the sack of paper that was heading for recycling and wrapped it. I was kicking myself for not doing a spectacular job on the addressing - and then it sat in the back seat of the car for a couple days as I kept forgetting to mail it. Finally, I was on the last errand of the day and was headed in the direction of two post offices. The easiest thing would have been to just mail it at the grocery store - but those clerks are usually not happy to work with people on aesthetics - and I knew Jeri deserved actual stamps. But, then I obsessed - maybe the stamp choices would just make it uglier.

Then I was annoyed that I had not done a better job on the faces. The transcript of what goes on in my head as I create and then attempt to mail things would be a one way ticket to the funny farm if it were recordable. Luckily we have our other Jean who can smack some sense into ocd-Jean. What's the name for the non-ocd-Jean? Wabi-sabi-Jean.

I like the Drake post office, but I recently had my second encounter with a person (a customer) who seemed to be off his meds and volatile, so while I adore the ladies who work there - I figured I would try the Beaverdale post office. Yes, Des Moines has a neighborhood called Beaverdale. Their post office is tucked into an out of the way place and usually a good option. I walked in and there were two people working, and only one customer. So, I went to the counter and told the lady that I would like to use actual stamps and not a meter strip. I asked if she had stamps that were higher denominations than Forevers and she started pondering options. We needed something like $3.75. I told her that I would not want anything with flags. She was OK with that and pulled out the Love stamps - then I thought of the international stamps. When she pulled them out - and I saw that they were $1.15 - I was very excited - for both the color and the shape.

Here is where the story gets good. She pulls off a stamp - heads towards the package - then stops and asks, "Does placement matter?" WOO-HOO. A kindred spirit. Yes, placement matters. Then she apologized and said, "I'm sorry, I have to cancel it." I assured her that cancelling is expected and welcomed. She offered to scan it and give me a tracking number. I declined. Then she held it and said, "Well that turned out very pretty." I was so happy that there was nobody waiting in line. It was a very happy detour on a day that had been medium bumpy. I resisted the urge to whip out my phone and show her my blog. I also regret that I did not look at her name. I really should have sent her a thank you note. Now I can obsess about going back and seeing if I can find her working there - to get her name....but that would take away from the death cleaning.

I am tempted to say that this Swedish death cleaning is going to be the death of me. I hope not. I do hope that my kids have nothing but fun as they clear out my belongings. And I hope that I have another 20 years to add to this topic and hopefully chuckle at how silly I was in my 60s. I feel a lot better knowing that I probably have a good 10 years to get the job done.