One of the things I love about blogging is that every once in a while you get the nicest things delivered to you by the postman. Or woman. Postperson. The person who brings the mail. Have to be politically correct. I hate that saying, and exactly what does it mean? What's political about whether the person delivering your mail is a man or woman? And why couldn't they just make up a word that means both? After all when you say President it could be a man or a woman and you don't have to worry if you've said the right thing. When you say attorney it could be a man or a woman. When you say doctor...same thing. We need a new name for the mail deliverer - got any suggestions?
Back to my story. I got two packages this week. First, I got this:
My friend, Takako at Quilt In Me, went home to visit her parents and bought gifts for some of her blogging friends. I haven't yet decided what I'm going to do with the fabric, although it will definitely go into a quilt. I'm thinking about a miniature log cabin table runner and these colors would work beautifully with some fabric I already have. Thank you so much Takako for your kindness. She sent a really sweet card that had a picture of a puppy and kitten on it and I would have shown you a picture of it, too, but my camera wouldn't cooperate.
I also got this beautiful vintage French postcard from my friend Becky at Wonders Never Cease. I made a wild guess trying to identify a picture of something on her post and turned out to be correct. This sweet card has writing on the back which is very faint but I think I was able to make out the year as 1950.
Becky also sent a card; in her case it was naturally a French one. This is a picture of Thatched Cottages at Cordeville, Auvers-sur-Oise by Vincent van Gogh. Beautiful, isn't it? Thank you Becky. I have it on my desk so that it brightens my day as I sit blogging.
For those of you who have been so kindly following my posts, Montezuma has left the building! About noon today I started feeling more like myself and even spent the afternoon in the sewing room - the first time since last week. But, sadness, I still haven't been able to drink an Iced Chaie Latte. Just couldn't. And I have no idea why because I hadn't had one when I got sick. I'm sure I'll be better tomorrow and be able to drink one right down. Right? Tell me I'm right....