It usually happens around midday. You know. Three-ish. I saunter out to my mailbox and grab the daily does of junk, checks (hopefully), bills and letters (ideally) from the mailbox. It's a ritual. But you know I grab the pile in a neat little fold, cruise back into the house and standing over the trash can I succumb to the second daily ritual that involves the mail: sorting. It's the kinda thing best done over the trash. Now I'm fortunate enough not to receive too much mail of the junk type because I've written to the DMA and a few other consumer type agencies and requested that I be culled (aka pulled) from anything resembling a mail list. Somehow I still seem to receive and collect catalogs. You'll be seeing more of this in future posts on The Digital Tavern.
But today was different. I found a post card that had no signs of governmental intervention. That is, it had no postage stamp. Yet it reeked of personal human touch. That's because it was hand delivered. Or as my friend Tim is fond of saying, hand carried. Just a few houses away from a neighbor I in three years living here haven't met. Sad statement, I know. But I'm not going to get into that. I've got an active lifestyle. I travel a lot. Move fast. And live on a street that has an unusual mix of young new families and older families. Not one of of those pre-fab, planned homogenized Orange County communities. Rather, one of those eclectic yet responsible neighborhoods that have organically grown without some developer or otherwise government intervention by design.
So Geraldine stuck this note in my mailbox. Why? She loves my hibiscus bush/tree. it's huge. You'd expect to find this in Hawaii. Hibiscus is typically the fowler you find in the hair those soft and dark-skinned Hawaiian beauties. Quintessentially tropical. Yet beautifully hawaiian. Mine produces oversized yellow flowers that might just be a bit too large for the petite body of an hawaiian princess. Nonetheless, my neighbor fancies some clippings. And I'm all about that. For I tend to ignore this bush. But the snails find it an easy prey. Tomorrow I'll cruise down the street and meet Geraldine face-to-face. Thank her for her bold request and offer her carte balance the freedom to cut at will and make use of these beautiful flowers.
please click on the images of the postcard for larger size view