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Things that defy description.
I get mail. I love getting mail. Thanks to everyone who sends me mail, because despite my lack of a comment space here on this blog my intention is always to start a new dialogue about what I think the real points of contention are in today’s world.
One letter in particular was a good representation of what I received over the last week:
It’s another Tuesday, the day that I answer my mail. It’s nothing more than my attempt to make up for the fact that while Author’s Den has a wonderful system for cataloguing and displaying diverse works, it has a lousy blog template that doesn’t allow comments. Sorry. I didn’t come here for the blog, but if you did I owe you a little something.
Tuesday is mail day, and I don’t have a lot of quotes to give you. I had some wonderful letters on my story of the Saint Paul Christmas tree being dragged down West Seventh, but modesty prevents me from posting them here. I save this space for the provocative leaning towards nasty, and I just haven’t gotten many of those lately.
Today is the day I answer mail.
I don’t have much to say, except thanks to all the people that voted for me in the Best Literature Blog contest at weblog awards:
This time of year, there’s nothing I enjoy more than a cup of tea. When the air becomes thick and the moisture hangs low in wisps of fog, the steam from my mug warms my nose and soon enough my gut. I am refreshed.
It is the break in the moment that makes it special. The water has to be heated and the tea steeped for 5 minutes, and then it is time to relax. I have to make time for tea, I have to stop being in motion for a short while to enjoy it.
Barataria - The work of Erik Hare 