Timing is Everything

I now publicly state that I must quit dwelling too much in my thoughts and instead type some of them down. I could, at this time, elect to elaborate on that train of thought, but let's do something else this time, shall we?

On a day not long ago, I took a walk in the warm afternoon to my mailbox. My mailbox duties aren't performed with the same dedication they once were. Once upon a time, I would dutifully check my mailbox every day, making sure to keep on top of bills and grocery ads and whatnot. Of course, when you move across the country, it takes a while for your mail to catch up with you, even if you file all of the necessary paperwork. Add to that the lovely humid Florida weather, and sometimes that walk just doesn't seem as urgent as it once did. Throw in the variable of constantly getting mail for your deceased spouse, and it starts to seem even more aggravating.

When I get around to ending my dereliction of duty, sometimes the box is crammed full of all sorts of things. Grocery ads and catalogs and bills are jammed in the little box. Occasionally there is a package that's been waiting for someone, anyone, to pay it some attention for two or three days. There's even occasionally an announcement of impending nuptials or a card or note or something else not involving the goal of separating me from some of my money.

(I interrupt this blog-in-progress to wonder what the heck is up with my flowery language and dollar-and-ninety-eight-cents words tonight. Sometimes it's just like that. Seriously, I don't do it on purpose, it just happens. As I've been writing this I've been thinking that I make me sick with all of this hifalutin' talk, haha.)

We return to me and my poor, neglected mailbox. On a particular day recently, I headed over to my Fail Box, which I just decided is the name for a mailbox which is being neglected by the human it so faithfully serves. As has become my habit recently, I approached with a reusable shopping bag tucked under my arm, and an eye open for exotic bird, gecko, and squirrel buddy sightings. And yes, the box was crammed with an assortment of things just as I expected. But in front of it all was The Key.

The Key is often the provider of magical moments. It means that there is a parcel of some sort eagerly waiting to be taken home so that it can produce oohs and ahs, or comments about the color looking different on the website but that's okay because this color is nice, too. This was an unexpected package from a friend, just when it was most needed. And I will be completely honest. I had to take a little peek before I got home. Just because you're a grownup doesn't mean you can't be excited!

The first peek - a box of Junior Mints! Mint and chocolate, one of my favorite combos! I knew this was going to be a fun one! Everything in this box was something that I would enjoy and that would put a smile on my face. There were elements of chocolate, cashews, cherry, all sorts of yum! There were rolls of Smarties, and the treasure of it all, a Halloween card. Not just any Halloween card, mind you, but one that was affixed to its envelope, on which there was an original work of art from my friend. 

You know how sometimes everything about a situation is a delight? This was one of those times. All of the flavors in the box were ones that I love. The Smarties took me through many Halloweens of the past, especially the first one we had with our poodle, Paris. We had left a large bowl full of Smarties out where they'd be handy if anyone rang the bell, and little Miss Smartgirl decided to give them a try. And she didn't do anything gauche like chew them down wrapper and all, or crunch them into dusty chunks scattered everywhere. No, our girl managed to neatly unwrap them and eat them like a lady.

And not only was the card just a really great idea and so fun with the original added artwork, but it seemed as if the artwork was tailor made for me. The witch was riding her broom past a house in my favorite color - purple! Gah! The card is now in a safe place, the Binder of Important Stuff that is to be retrieved and rescued in the event of fire, flood, or other valid reasons. It is the item that, when we've moved, hasn't been packed into a box. On our move here, the Binder of Important Stuff was actually in my carry-on bag along with other treasures.

I am (not) embarrassed to admit that when I opened the little dispensing and reclosing doohickey on the Junior Mints box, I not-quite-accidentally made it unable to be refastened. Instead of transferring the contents to one of my hand-dandy resealable silicone food bags, I made the courageous decision to spend the afternoon and evening doing my best to make sure those little chocominty pieces of yum would not have to face the prospect of becoming stale (the dreaded process often known as Going Bad). Yes, I stayed up until I had protected every last bit. Sometimes a gal's gotta do what a gal's gotta do. Yes, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it! Here's to more memories that are sweet!

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