{the.wednesday.whistle…on thursday}

dear Mikki and Katie…

i stood at the mail box. i didn’t open it at first. i love getting the mail even now that i am 30. what is inside? is it a letter from an old friend, my Grammy Tyler, or other relative? {oh handwritten letters are divine} bills? {most assuredly} checks? {rarely} a book that i ordered on a whim from Amazon? {i collect books during the summer that i won’t even get to dream of reading until January} i open the door to the tin box with red flag standing on bent metal post {it wasn’t me who hit it this time with the car… no…really}; just a tiny bit at first and then i peek with one eye inside the darkness…this is my way. i would say that the neighbors find me odd, but probably they just think i’m crazy.

inside?

bills. bank statements. the Rite Aid flier.

and the Anthropology catalog.

sigh….heaven.

i think to myself as i grab the stack…when i can afford everything in the Anthropology catalog i will be living the good life…

i think this all the way in, and past the threshold of our house, and see Katie coloring at the marred kitchen table constructing one of her brilliant drawings of cats. {complete with stripes or polka dots}.  on top of our too big for our little house table is Penelope the cat, stretched out and yawning and exhausted after morning of…well…laying on the table and yawning. Penelope is Katie’s muse.

“Penelope is silly today, huh Mom? she told me so.” you say this, Katie, as if she really did. so i believe you.

i toss the Anthropology catalog on the counter. and then pick it up again. i look at the cover for moment and curl my bottom lip over my teeth in pensive indecision for a moment. and then without another thought, freely throw it into the trash can. without even a page turn or a look see or a glimpse.

good life?

i have it all.

i have it in you two.

all my love darlings,

p.s. daily.mantra::  the world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be only the beginning…ivy.baker