Rereading Old Letters

I feel bittersweet about rereading old letters. I've been going through a lot of old papers lately, getting rid of old bills, paycheck stubs, tax forms from the '90s, and so forth.

But mixed in with the boxes are lots of old Christmas cards, letters from people, old friends, as well as personal writings, notes, whatever. It's hard to look at some of it because they're from loved ones no longer around.

My grandmother used to write to me and always sign her cards and notes in a particular way. And since she died so long ago, it's kind of sweet to see her letters and especially look at the way she signed them. In that case the distance of time -- probably since I've thought about her so much over the years -- takes away any grief.

I had a dear friend who moved out of the country, though, so that's grief of a whole different sort. To look at his letters from the '80s and one or two from the '90s -- and to know that we're totally out of touch now -- is a sad thing. I reread one of them a couple days ago and felt a little down. Especially since he didn't die. It's not like we couldn't have been friends all this time, but it just didn't happen.

Some of the stuff I'm getting rid of -- after digitizing most of it -- and some I'm keeping. The trick is not to keep so much stuff that I'm still wading through clutter. I know though if I get rid of something I later will want, there's no store to go to buy another copy. Obvious.

This Is Not A Diary -- Please Delete

I'm going to Daily Kos to see if how long it takes me, with the current diary list, starting at the top of the recent diaries and going down, to find one with a variation of the statement, "This is not a diary -- please delete."

OK, it is 2:23 p.m. Eastern time... here I go.

Well, it's a minute later, and at this diary, Sarah Palin...Just how are the people responding? I found this comment at the top, "This is outdated stuff. Try again. n/t."

So I'm going back in for something more definite:

OK, it is 2:28 p.m., and the dishonor goes to a diary by chowbellachow, called, "McCain supporter STEALS U.S. flags from DNC convention." The comment is by the omnipresent DemocraticLuntz, who says, "Not a diary. Please delete and never do this."

So that's kind of like five minutes. It could have been better. But remember, between 2:23 and 2:28 I also got the information on that Sarah Palin one, had to cut and paste a few things here, then go back. That meant opening several diaries that had zero comments, and yet there may have been comments since the time my browser said zero. Then of course there were some actual diaries of sufficient length and appearance to wade through to make sure they weren't troll diaries (they weren't).

I actually figured the diary by chowbellachow was going to be a good diary, because of the provocative title. If true, there'd be nothing trollish about that. But I didn't stay to investigate because I needed to get back here in record time, you see.

Big Bird Got My Car

Click the graphic for a bigger view (if you feel like being sicker)

Note on my graphic: Because of too many extraneous reflections in the picture, I replaced most of the photo with black, leaving behind the pure white (with some light reddish bits), looking very stark.

The other day I came to my car to find this enormous bird poop on my window, driver's window. My first thought was maybe it was an eagle or a wild turkey. There were no relieved-looking birds of sufficient size in the area, so I don't know. But whatever bird it was, somehow he escaped the neighborhood. And probably quite easily, being a good pound and half lighter!

Gotta Run -- Make Coffee

I have about five minutes. Gotta run, make coffee, get cracking on my day.

I want to recommend a coffee maker, if you like coffee. I'm hooked on it as the best coffee, but I can drink whatever anyone has. It's just never as good.

French press coffee making. You can get them at any kitchen place, or coffee place. You grind the coffee, and the coffee is right in the water, swirling around. Then you press down the metal filter with a handle and all the grounds go to the bottom.

Of course your coffee can be any strength -- depending on how much you put in -- but I like it really dark, really strong, fresh ground. Umm, puts hair on your chest. You're an albino, and you've suddenly got this dark, coarse, Russian hair all over your body. Me, like in one of the Bonzo Dog Band's songs, I'm currently two separate gorillas.

So my time is nearly up. Coffee awaits, dog needs to be taken out, cats fed, exercises done, Three Stooges watched, shower taken. All in the next less-than-one hour!