Over the weekend, I got a Northern Brewer Homebrew Supply catalog in the mail. When I saw it, I laughed out loud. I really did. Not because it's a humorous catalog, but because it's hilarious that I'd be on the list to receive it.
I really can't figure out how I would be on Northern Brewer's mailing list, given that I'm not a super lush-nuts beer drinker. I'll have a beer now and then. I'm not against. But I'm not really a beer enthusiast, either. Every time we get a 12-pack of Yuengling in this house, 11 of the bottles will stick around for a year or two (true story), or I end up going to a Tastefully Simple party, buying a bunch of their beer bread mix, and using up the Yuengling that way. If we go to Pearl Street Grille in Buffalo before a Sabres game, I'll drink one of their micro-brewed beers before we get to the Arena, where I don't drink beer, because I want to be alert enough to avoid flying pucks, fighting fans around me, and other people's falling beers. And I'm a notorious lightweight.
The closest I've ever come to being a beer aficionado is in 2004, when Shane and I were at Busch Gardens, and we attended Beer School. Somewhere, we still have our diplomas to prove it. I remember they subjected us to tasting Bacardi 02, which was an orange-flavored malted beverage. It made the regular Busch taste that much better. At least I know that much about beer to keep beer beer and leave Bacardi and their orange flavoring out of it.
I'm certainly not that much into beer to warrant a whole catalog being sent to me, featuring such items for the home brewmeister as reusable beer bottle labels, carboys, kettles, hops... I know what those things are. I've read things about home-brewing in passing, and I remember the things I read. But I don't have a burning desire to gather up such things and make my own PBR here at home. PBR- that's what the hipsters are drinking now, right? Pitchers of PBR. I'm also not cool enough to be a hipster, so.....
Northern Brewer was a fun departure from the usual steady stream of Victoria's Secret (I like their jeans. I'm not a siren by any stretch of the word, but I get a kajillion VS catalogs a week, so you'd think I were some kind of hotster!), Champion (workout wear!), kids' educational toys catalogs (I was getting these for years before Zoe came along), Knitpicks, and the Fire Mountain Gems jewelry maker's catalog. Even though it's headed for my recycle pile, it was kind of fun to imagine myself as someone who'd order out of Northern Brewer for the few minutes it took me to look through the catalog. And it makes me wonder. If there's a catalog called Northern Brewer, is its southern counterpart Southern Moonshiner? Just wondering.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Mini Adult Clothes
Back in February, having no idea how fast Zoe would grow, I ordered her a bunch of Size 9 month all-in-one dresses from Carter's, and supplemented with a couple selections from Penney's Okie Dokie brand. At the time, the 9-month sized clothes were a little big on a 5-month Zoe, but she's gotten through the entire summer, wearing them, and now we're back to putting long-sleeved Onesies underneath the sleeveless all-in-ones, and pulling on BabyLegs legwarmers, and she's good to go.
The thing is, she's fourteen months old as of yesterday, and I see the Size 9-month clothes are starting to "juuuuuuuuuust fit" her, which means that between repeated washings and her tendency to shoot upwards, I'll be needing to pack away these well-worn Size 9-month clothes and start looking for some new, probably around February again. She has enough clothes to get her through the winter, especially at her current growth rate.
Still, I like to look ahead and see what's out there. I've learned from our experience with the Carter's lime green ruffled sunsuit that if there's an outfit that we see for Zoe, and we love it, buy one for now in the next size up from the size she's currently on, and if it's available, buy one a size or two larger than that. We bought that sunsuit in Size 3 months, before Zoe was even born. Thankfully, she got a good six months' wear out of it, but we loved that sunsuit. There was a whole rack of various sizes of it the day we bought it, and then once she was here and we saw how beautiful it was on her, *poof* there wasn't one to be had. I trolled JCPenney, both brick and dot com. I looked in the clothing section at Diapers.com. I stalked Carter's dot com. I even looked at eBay, but baby clothes are often sold in lots there, and I didn't see what I was looking for after much searching. I found all her other outfits we liked, in larger sizes, but not the Fluffy Green Dress. Anywhere. I even sent an email to Carter's, and they did an inventory search. There are just no more Fluffy Green Dresses to be had. That's how we learned our lesson about buying multiple sizes of things we Really Love for Zoe.
Like I said, even if she wakes up one of these mornings, suddenly oversized for her Nine Months clothing, we're good to go through the winter, and that's fine, because she looks particularly fetching in A-line all-in-one dresses, and there aren't any to be had this time of year. I can hold out until Spring, and keep up with my long-sleeves under sleeveless summer clothes trick to get extra mileage out of anything I'll buy then, with Summer ahead.
Just looking around some baby-clothes websites, though, I'm surprised to see how many baby clothes look like mini adult clothes. I guess some people think it's cute to have their little kids going around looking like mini versions of themselves. I probably would have thought it was cute, before I had kids, if I liked kids enough to pay attention to what they were wearing. But my kid. I don't want my kid wearing tiny versions of the things I wear! Soon enough, she'll be in the sixth grade, asking to borrow my jeans to wear as baggy Bermuda shorts. She's a little kid right now! Why can't she just wear the crazy polka-dot jumpsuits, the over-the-top ruffled playsuits, the tiered sundresses- while she has a little tiny body and she's not worried about calling attention to or detracting attention from certain body parts? Clothing for little kids ought to be FUN! Clothing for adults can still be "fun," but not FUN in the way I think little kids' clothing ought to be.
With that said, I'm not trying to keep Zoe a little kid forever. I don't want her to be an eleven-year-old who doesn't speak to adults unless she has to, and then uses a widdle baby voice to say what's on her mind. I don't see myself having a super sense of humor if she's throwing food on the floor for a reaction late in toddlerhood- she doesn't really even do that now! Behavior-wise, my favorite little kids are the ones who act like little (well-mannered) adults (at least out in public and around people- at home, let 'em be little hooligans!), but look and dress the part of little kids. I don't think a three-year-old needs to be wearing pumps or kitten-heels, unless she's playing dress-up. I definitely don't go for the kinderslut movement.
Thankfully, for all the mini adult clothes that come in sizes for kids as small as Zoe, or even newborn-size, there are still the Carter's and OshKosh B'Gosh and Okie Dokie and Zutano, to keep my little kid looking like a little kid for a little while longer!
 |
| The Fluffy Green Dress we loved! |
Still, I like to look ahead and see what's out there. I've learned from our experience with the Carter's lime green ruffled sunsuit that if there's an outfit that we see for Zoe, and we love it, buy one for now in the next size up from the size she's currently on, and if it's available, buy one a size or two larger than that. We bought that sunsuit in Size 3 months, before Zoe was even born. Thankfully, she got a good six months' wear out of it, but we loved that sunsuit. There was a whole rack of various sizes of it the day we bought it, and then once she was here and we saw how beautiful it was on her, *poof* there wasn't one to be had. I trolled JCPenney, both brick and dot com. I looked in the clothing section at Diapers.com. I stalked Carter's dot com. I even looked at eBay, but baby clothes are often sold in lots there, and I didn't see what I was looking for after much searching. I found all her other outfits we liked, in larger sizes, but not the Fluffy Green Dress. Anywhere. I even sent an email to Carter's, and they did an inventory search. There are just no more Fluffy Green Dresses to be had. That's how we learned our lesson about buying multiple sizes of things we Really Love for Zoe.
Like I said, even if she wakes up one of these mornings, suddenly oversized for her Nine Months clothing, we're good to go through the winter, and that's fine, because she looks particularly fetching in A-line all-in-one dresses, and there aren't any to be had this time of year. I can hold out until Spring, and keep up with my long-sleeves under sleeveless summer clothes trick to get extra mileage out of anything I'll buy then, with Summer ahead.
Just looking around some baby-clothes websites, though, I'm surprised to see how many baby clothes look like mini adult clothes. I guess some people think it's cute to have their little kids going around looking like mini versions of themselves. I probably would have thought it was cute, before I had kids, if I liked kids enough to pay attention to what they were wearing. But my kid. I don't want my kid wearing tiny versions of the things I wear! Soon enough, she'll be in the sixth grade, asking to borrow my jeans to wear as baggy Bermuda shorts. She's a little kid right now! Why can't she just wear the crazy polka-dot jumpsuits, the over-the-top ruffled playsuits, the tiered sundresses- while she has a little tiny body and she's not worried about calling attention to or detracting attention from certain body parts? Clothing for little kids ought to be FUN! Clothing for adults can still be "fun," but not FUN in the way I think little kids' clothing ought to be.
With that said, I'm not trying to keep Zoe a little kid forever. I don't want her to be an eleven-year-old who doesn't speak to adults unless she has to, and then uses a widdle baby voice to say what's on her mind. I don't see myself having a super sense of humor if she's throwing food on the floor for a reaction late in toddlerhood- she doesn't really even do that now! Behavior-wise, my favorite little kids are the ones who act like little (well-mannered) adults (at least out in public and around people- at home, let 'em be little hooligans!), but look and dress the part of little kids. I don't think a three-year-old needs to be wearing pumps or kitten-heels, unless she's playing dress-up. I definitely don't go for the kinderslut movement.
Thankfully, for all the mini adult clothes that come in sizes for kids as small as Zoe, or even newborn-size, there are still the Carter's and OshKosh B'Gosh and Okie Dokie and Zutano, to keep my little kid looking like a little kid for a little while longer!
Friday, November 9, 2012
Winter's Coming
There's this show on HBO that we like to watch called "Game of Thrones." It's based on a series of books by George R. R. Martin that Shane's read and I probably won't, but I like the show just the same. Other people are more in to "Game of Thrones" and can speak more intelligently about it than I can. But there's a phrase the characters on the show utter with no little sense of the ominous: "Winter's coming."
Winter's coming.
Yesterday when I walked to get the mail, the sky was a clear and blazing blue, and I just wore my leather jacket to keep warm. All the way down the driveway and all the way back, with my hair blowing in the breeze (in North Bingham, we call a 'breeze' what people in other parts would call a 'bracing wind.'), all I could think of was that I wish I'd put on a hat before I stepped outside. A real hat that I could pull tight over my head, to keep my hair from blowing and to keep all the heat from escaping through my head. That wind had some teeth to it, despite the visually pleasantness the day had to offer. It took me drinking a cup of hot tea while wrapped in blankets and huddling by the fire in the fake fireplace just to get warmed back up!
Winter's coming.
We had a very easy winter last year. I plowed the driveway once, and I believe I remember Shane plowing the driveway one time, as well. The winter before that, when I was expecting Zoe, I was out on our Kubota tractor twice a week sometimes, plowing the snow. The last time I plowed that winter was April 4th, and the very next week, I wouldn't have been able to zip up my snowpants if I'd needed to plow more. But that hellish winter aside, I feel like we have a piper to pay for the brilliant winter of 2011-2012, and I feel like that piper's going to come knocking this winter. I hope I'm wrong.
See, it's pretty much my job to plow the driveway. It has been since our first winter in this house. It isn't because Shane doesn't like to run the tractor. We sort of fight over running the tractor. I love driving the tractor, mowing the lawn. I even don't mind plowing the driveway, as long as it stays a once-a-week-at-most kind of job. I even like running the plow on our tractor, which does not have a closed cab, provided it's toward the beginning to the middle of the season, you know, before the novelty wears off.
It never fails, though. Right around Mid-January, I get snow down the back of my neck, either because I've driven too near to under a snow-laden bought of the Elm Tree in the island in the driveway, or because a wind kicks up a snownado (on a really small scale) and plants it on the back of my neck.
Winter's coming.
Every morning since October 1st, I've jumped out of bed and raced to the window to see if our 2002 Dodge Ram has grown a snow plow yet. That's what I'm hoping for. I think it'd be so cool if our pickup truck happened to magically turn into a plow-truck overnight, because thanks to our Big Dig project back in July, we now have over twice the driveway to plow that we had these last 5 years. I worry about what to do with Zoe when I need to plow the drive this year, and if I had a plow on the truck, I could just put her carseat in, turn on some music, let the heat rip, heck, even bring Rozzie along, and use that Hemi to help clear the snow from the driveway. I wouldn't need my knit beanie with the earbuds built right in. I wouldn't need the L.L. Bean Wicked Warmers in my mittens and boots. I wouldn't need the hearing protectors I wear when I'm on the tractor. I wouldn't need the snow goggles I ordered the other night (if you're laughing that I bought snow goggles to wear when I plow snow in my driveway, you've never been here in the dead of winter).
Thinking of getting to plow the snow from the comfort of the heated cab of a pickup truck, with Rozzie and Zoe along, makes it feel all the more harsh when I think of the reality. Even in my snow pants and ski-jacket and skullcap under the knit beanie and the Wicked Warmers, some days, it's really cold. I do have an iPod along to keep me company while I run the plow, but it's not as nice as if Zoe and Rozzie were riding in a heated pickup with me while I did this task.
Even though I know it won't happen, I still hop out of bed every morning and look in hopes that I'll see a green pickup with a bright yellow plow on the front of it. Maybe there's such a thing as the power of a persistent wish. Maybe I'm just delusional. All I know with any certaintly is this:
Winter's coming.
Winter's coming.
Yesterday when I walked to get the mail, the sky was a clear and blazing blue, and I just wore my leather jacket to keep warm. All the way down the driveway and all the way back, with my hair blowing in the breeze (in North Bingham, we call a 'breeze' what people in other parts would call a 'bracing wind.'), all I could think of was that I wish I'd put on a hat before I stepped outside. A real hat that I could pull tight over my head, to keep my hair from blowing and to keep all the heat from escaping through my head. That wind had some teeth to it, despite the visually pleasantness the day had to offer. It took me drinking a cup of hot tea while wrapped in blankets and huddling by the fire in the fake fireplace just to get warmed back up!
Winter's coming.
We had a very easy winter last year. I plowed the driveway once, and I believe I remember Shane plowing the driveway one time, as well. The winter before that, when I was expecting Zoe, I was out on our Kubota tractor twice a week sometimes, plowing the snow. The last time I plowed that winter was April 4th, and the very next week, I wouldn't have been able to zip up my snowpants if I'd needed to plow more. But that hellish winter aside, I feel like we have a piper to pay for the brilliant winter of 2011-2012, and I feel like that piper's going to come knocking this winter. I hope I'm wrong.
See, it's pretty much my job to plow the driveway. It has been since our first winter in this house. It isn't because Shane doesn't like to run the tractor. We sort of fight over running the tractor. I love driving the tractor, mowing the lawn. I even don't mind plowing the driveway, as long as it stays a once-a-week-at-most kind of job. I even like running the plow on our tractor, which does not have a closed cab, provided it's toward the beginning to the middle of the season, you know, before the novelty wears off.
It never fails, though. Right around Mid-January, I get snow down the back of my neck, either because I've driven too near to under a snow-laden bought of the Elm Tree in the island in the driveway, or because a wind kicks up a snownado (on a really small scale) and plants it on the back of my neck.
Winter's coming.
Every morning since October 1st, I've jumped out of bed and raced to the window to see if our 2002 Dodge Ram has grown a snow plow yet. That's what I'm hoping for. I think it'd be so cool if our pickup truck happened to magically turn into a plow-truck overnight, because thanks to our Big Dig project back in July, we now have over twice the driveway to plow that we had these last 5 years. I worry about what to do with Zoe when I need to plow the drive this year, and if I had a plow on the truck, I could just put her carseat in, turn on some music, let the heat rip, heck, even bring Rozzie along, and use that Hemi to help clear the snow from the driveway. I wouldn't need my knit beanie with the earbuds built right in. I wouldn't need the L.L. Bean Wicked Warmers in my mittens and boots. I wouldn't need the hearing protectors I wear when I'm on the tractor. I wouldn't need the snow goggles I ordered the other night (if you're laughing that I bought snow goggles to wear when I plow snow in my driveway, you've never been here in the dead of winter).
Thinking of getting to plow the snow from the comfort of the heated cab of a pickup truck, with Rozzie and Zoe along, makes it feel all the more harsh when I think of the reality. Even in my snow pants and ski-jacket and skullcap under the knit beanie and the Wicked Warmers, some days, it's really cold. I do have an iPod along to keep me company while I run the plow, but it's not as nice as if Zoe and Rozzie were riding in a heated pickup with me while I did this task.
Even though I know it won't happen, I still hop out of bed every morning and look in hopes that I'll see a green pickup with a bright yellow plow on the front of it. Maybe there's such a thing as the power of a persistent wish. Maybe I'm just delusional. All I know with any certaintly is this:
Winter's coming.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
The Kindergarten Trip to the Post Office
I've been thinking about the Post Office a lot lately. I'm sure it's because the one in my town is having its hours cut. There's a meeting tonight that I'm going to, more to show whatever postal official is coming that as a community member, I support my post office than to actually believe that we'll change the USPS's mind and our post office will go back to being open at full-throttle, with sorting and full window-hours, just as though the postal service hasn't been hemorrhaging money for years.
The thing is, I love the post office. I love getting mail. While I don't collect stamps, I have to say I get giddy when I buy a new book of Forever stamps and the design on them is something pretty neat, instead of just the ol' Liberty Bell-not that I don't love the Liberty Bell. It's just that all Liberty Bell, all the time gets boring. Whenever I order something online (and I do that a lot), if USPS is an option, I select it. I want to keep my post office rolling!
Before I get to my actual post, let me back up to those Forever stamps. Postal Service, why can't all the First Class stamps sold be "Forever" stamps? I read that the USPS lost about a bazillion dollars recently because they printed up a whole bunch of Simpsons-themed First Classers, and then a few months later, raised their rates, rendering all those shiny new first class stamps obsolete in one rate hike. What would be so wrong with making all first-class stamps "Forever" so we buy them now, for the current First Class rate, and can continue to use them through rate hike after rate hike. We the public would feel like we're beating the game, using Forever stamps we bought for $.44 when it costs $.50 to mail a regular first-class letter, and the USPS wouldn't have to File Thirteen a bunch of perfectly good stamps they [over]printed because they jacked up the price by two cents. I would think that the savings of that would help offset people like me buying Forever stamps and stockpiling them right now for future savings. We'll run out sometime, and will have to buy more at whatever higher Forever First Class rate is in place in the future. Maybe it wouldn't save all that much, but what I'd like to see the USPS and the government in general return to is the notion that "every little bit adds up!"
Okay, back to my love for the Post Office. Back when I was in Kindergarten, I went to the Harrison Valley Elementary School, back when Harrison Valley was still a charming little town and not the overgrown junkyard-eyesore it is today. The school was one of those adorable little town elementary schools housing a class each of kindergarten through sixth grade. I could look out the window of my kindergarten room and see Grandma Evans' house, and know that Aunt Flossie and Uncle Al's white trailer was next door. Maybe they were out on their patio if it was warm outside! It took me a couple weeks of kindergarten to warm up to the place, but once I did, I felt like my elementary school was another home.
To say I loved school and loved kindergarten would be an understatement of the first degree.
In early February of my kindergarten year, we did a unit on the post office, and it was a really big deal. Each of us got to write a letter to someone, and put it in an envelope, and address the envelope as per the Postal Service's specifications in 1984, and -this was the Major Big Deal- we would each get a stamp, and we'd walk as a class up the street to Kibbe's Busymart, where the local post office was housed, and we'd mail our letters, watching Betty, the shopkeep and town postmaster, cancel our letters, sort them, and send them on their way to their final destinations!
I remember the day of our trip to the Post Office like it was yesterday. It was cold, because it was February up here in the edge of the snowbelt. We all had to bring in our permission slips, which I think was achieved with 100% compliance from the fourteen boys and six girls in my kindergarten class. We sat at our tables, enveloped, sealed, and addressed letters in front of us, awaiting a stamp. And then, Mr. Smith, the principal of our elementary school as well as the School on the Hill (Northern Potter Children's School), arrived in our kindergarten classroom, with a roll of stamps in-hand.
It was always a Big Deal when Mr. Smith visited Harrison Valley Elementary School. We were always told to be on our best behavior, our super-best behavior, when the principal was in the building. And I remember the sense of awe that swept over the kindergarten room when we saw Mr. Smith that day. As a principal, Mr. Smith always knew everybody's name. He always made even the smallest kid feel like a big shot, at least for the few minutes he was talking to them. Starting in the fall of 1984, my class from Harrison Valley was moved to the School on the Hill, and it was not an unusual sight to see Mr. Smith at the doors at bustime, greeting or sending off the droves of kids in the school. By the time I was in second grade, Mr. Smith was the superintendent of the whole entire school district, and if he was mayor-like as principal of the elementary school, I thought he was quite presidential as a superintendent, still knowing everybody's name, still making any kid he met in the school feel like a big shot, even for a minute. Mr. Smith was obviously one of my favorite people at the school, and to this day, when I see him around, he hasn't changed a bit. Still makes you feel like a big shot, even only for a minute.
So it was a big thing to see Mr. Smith in our kindergarten room that cold February day of our Field Trip to the Harrison Valley Post Office. And despite any trouble or issues any of us might have had along the way differentiating between "right" and "left," when Mr. Smith asked us all to raise our right hands if we wanted a stamp for our letters, fourteen boys and six girls raised their right hands, just like that. We had to raise our RIGHT hands so Mr. Smith could see that we knew which side of the top of the envelope we were supposed to stick our stamps to. Then, once we all had our stamps in-hand, we licked them- yes, the self-adhesive stamps weren't out yet, at least not in Harrison Valley in 1984- and all made squinchy faces at the taste of the lick'em on the back of the stamps, because that's what a classroom full of 5-year-olds does when presented with licky-stamps, and then we all meticulously stuck our stamps perfectly on the upper right corner of our envelopes, leaving just a small border around the top and right edge of the stamp.
And then it was time to put on our coats and boots and walk the block up the street to the Post Office!
I'd been there a million times as a little kid, both for the Busymart and for the Post Office. Our post office box was 137. But it was something new, going to the post office as part of a Field Trip! We each slipped our letter through the outgoing mail slot, and then, THEN, we got to go through the split door (it was one of those doors that you could open just the top half, or open both halves and walk through!) and see where our letters had just gone! Betty took the letters from the bin, put them up on a counter, got out her stamp that said "HARRISON VALLEY, PA, 16927" and hand-cancelled each and every one of our letters. We got to see for ourselves. Then she showed us how she sorted mail into the post office boxes. Then we walked back down the street to our kindergarten room and had hot cocoa and Scooter Pies for our snack.
That field trip to the real post office was in preparation for a cardboard post office turning up very shortly in our kindergarten classroom. Remember, it was February. Valentine's Day month. So we made our own "mailboxes" for our Valentine's cards, and then on the appointed day, we brought in our Valentine's cards and "mailed" them. We took turns in groups sorting and delivering the Valentines to their proper mailboxes. I remember volunteering for extra time in the kindergarten post office, because I had so much fun sorting the Valentines cards.
I don't know if it was that experience that set off a fascination for all things postal, but I really do have one. I was sad to hear of "my" post office and its split-door and old post office boxes burning down in 2001, when Kibbe's Busymart burnt. It's still kind of a treat to me to drop into a post office built in the 20s or 30s, with their murals, and tile-work on the floor, and Art Deco boxes and windows. The town where I went to college had one, and so does Wellsville, NY and Coudersport, PA. My post office in Genesee is one of the newer ones, built in the 1980s, I think, when the Post Office was building all kinds of new post offices across the country. The boxes aren't the cool Art Deco ones you'll see in older post offices, but the building is very efficient and functional, and they always have my stamps and mailing supplies (I LOVE the flat-rate boxes!) In Wexford, where my sister lives, that post office is super-new, and super-automated. You can go in there and buy stamps, mail packages, and get your mail 24-7. I bought a bunch of "Forever" holiday stamps a couple years ago, at 9 p.m., from the stamp machine at the Wexford post office. And then the post office in Waikiki's International Marketplace in Honolulu, Hawaii was an interesting one. I didn't see any boxes there- I'm sure the people who live in Honolulu have their post office boxes in places other than in a tree-house-like post office in the heart of the International Marketplace in Waikiki. But for lack of post office boxes, this post office is downright bustling all day, every day, with tourists sending home post cards and packages- honestly, with souvenirs you'd buy in Hawaii, you're better off packing them up, putting them in a Flat-Rate box, and shipping them home to yourself instead of packing them in your luggage and leaving it up to chance and the mood of the airline baggage handlers. If I hadn't have been in Waikiki in Hawaii, I would have hung out at the post office a little longer, just to see how they do their day-to-day. But it was really fun to get home and have all my things I sent home from Hawaii stamped with "Aloha"
I know we can do a bunch of stuff online that we used to do and send through the mail. And I know there are other options for sending parcels now. But the thing is, I hope the post office turns things around and that we don't lose it. We might pay our bills online now, but we're always going to need to send real things. For a special birthday or a get-well wish, there's no beating a real card. Emails are fun, but there's nothing like getting an actual hand-written letter from a friend. We still need the post office.
I will be absolutely heartbroken if Zoe gets to kindergarten and instead of filling out Valentines for everybody in the class, and hand-delivering them to handmade mailboxes, they just email each other Valentine's greetings, or beam them to each other's kindersmartphones or whatever the choice electronic device in early childhood education enhancement will be in 2016-2017. I want her to know the pleasure of holding a real card in her hands and seeing a friend's early handwriting scrawled across the back of the card.
Nobody delivers the real like the post office.
The thing is, I love the post office. I love getting mail. While I don't collect stamps, I have to say I get giddy when I buy a new book of Forever stamps and the design on them is something pretty neat, instead of just the ol' Liberty Bell-not that I don't love the Liberty Bell. It's just that all Liberty Bell, all the time gets boring. Whenever I order something online (and I do that a lot), if USPS is an option, I select it. I want to keep my post office rolling!
Before I get to my actual post, let me back up to those Forever stamps. Postal Service, why can't all the First Class stamps sold be "Forever" stamps? I read that the USPS lost about a bazillion dollars recently because they printed up a whole bunch of Simpsons-themed First Classers, and then a few months later, raised their rates, rendering all those shiny new first class stamps obsolete in one rate hike. What would be so wrong with making all first-class stamps "Forever" so we buy them now, for the current First Class rate, and can continue to use them through rate hike after rate hike. We the public would feel like we're beating the game, using Forever stamps we bought for $.44 when it costs $.50 to mail a regular first-class letter, and the USPS wouldn't have to File Thirteen a bunch of perfectly good stamps they [over]printed because they jacked up the price by two cents. I would think that the savings of that would help offset people like me buying Forever stamps and stockpiling them right now for future savings. We'll run out sometime, and will have to buy more at whatever higher Forever First Class rate is in place in the future. Maybe it wouldn't save all that much, but what I'd like to see the USPS and the government in general return to is the notion that "every little bit adds up!"
Okay, back to my love for the Post Office. Back when I was in Kindergarten, I went to the Harrison Valley Elementary School, back when Harrison Valley was still a charming little town and not the overgrown junkyard-eyesore it is today. The school was one of those adorable little town elementary schools housing a class each of kindergarten through sixth grade. I could look out the window of my kindergarten room and see Grandma Evans' house, and know that Aunt Flossie and Uncle Al's white trailer was next door. Maybe they were out on their patio if it was warm outside! It took me a couple weeks of kindergarten to warm up to the place, but once I did, I felt like my elementary school was another home.
To say I loved school and loved kindergarten would be an understatement of the first degree.
In early February of my kindergarten year, we did a unit on the post office, and it was a really big deal. Each of us got to write a letter to someone, and put it in an envelope, and address the envelope as per the Postal Service's specifications in 1984, and -this was the Major Big Deal- we would each get a stamp, and we'd walk as a class up the street to Kibbe's Busymart, where the local post office was housed, and we'd mail our letters, watching Betty, the shopkeep and town postmaster, cancel our letters, sort them, and send them on their way to their final destinations!
I remember the day of our trip to the Post Office like it was yesterday. It was cold, because it was February up here in the edge of the snowbelt. We all had to bring in our permission slips, which I think was achieved with 100% compliance from the fourteen boys and six girls in my kindergarten class. We sat at our tables, enveloped, sealed, and addressed letters in front of us, awaiting a stamp. And then, Mr. Smith, the principal of our elementary school as well as the School on the Hill (Northern Potter Children's School), arrived in our kindergarten classroom, with a roll of stamps in-hand.
It was always a Big Deal when Mr. Smith visited Harrison Valley Elementary School. We were always told to be on our best behavior, our super-best behavior, when the principal was in the building. And I remember the sense of awe that swept over the kindergarten room when we saw Mr. Smith that day. As a principal, Mr. Smith always knew everybody's name. He always made even the smallest kid feel like a big shot, at least for the few minutes he was talking to them. Starting in the fall of 1984, my class from Harrison Valley was moved to the School on the Hill, and it was not an unusual sight to see Mr. Smith at the doors at bustime, greeting or sending off the droves of kids in the school. By the time I was in second grade, Mr. Smith was the superintendent of the whole entire school district, and if he was mayor-like as principal of the elementary school, I thought he was quite presidential as a superintendent, still knowing everybody's name, still making any kid he met in the school feel like a big shot, even for a minute. Mr. Smith was obviously one of my favorite people at the school, and to this day, when I see him around, he hasn't changed a bit. Still makes you feel like a big shot, even only for a minute.
So it was a big thing to see Mr. Smith in our kindergarten room that cold February day of our Field Trip to the Harrison Valley Post Office. And despite any trouble or issues any of us might have had along the way differentiating between "right" and "left," when Mr. Smith asked us all to raise our right hands if we wanted a stamp for our letters, fourteen boys and six girls raised their right hands, just like that. We had to raise our RIGHT hands so Mr. Smith could see that we knew which side of the top of the envelope we were supposed to stick our stamps to. Then, once we all had our stamps in-hand, we licked them- yes, the self-adhesive stamps weren't out yet, at least not in Harrison Valley in 1984- and all made squinchy faces at the taste of the lick'em on the back of the stamps, because that's what a classroom full of 5-year-olds does when presented with licky-stamps, and then we all meticulously stuck our stamps perfectly on the upper right corner of our envelopes, leaving just a small border around the top and right edge of the stamp.
And then it was time to put on our coats and boots and walk the block up the street to the Post Office!
I'd been there a million times as a little kid, both for the Busymart and for the Post Office. Our post office box was 137. But it was something new, going to the post office as part of a Field Trip! We each slipped our letter through the outgoing mail slot, and then, THEN, we got to go through the split door (it was one of those doors that you could open just the top half, or open both halves and walk through!) and see where our letters had just gone! Betty took the letters from the bin, put them up on a counter, got out her stamp that said "HARRISON VALLEY, PA, 16927" and hand-cancelled each and every one of our letters. We got to see for ourselves. Then she showed us how she sorted mail into the post office boxes. Then we walked back down the street to our kindergarten room and had hot cocoa and Scooter Pies for our snack.
That field trip to the real post office was in preparation for a cardboard post office turning up very shortly in our kindergarten classroom. Remember, it was February. Valentine's Day month. So we made our own "mailboxes" for our Valentine's cards, and then on the appointed day, we brought in our Valentine's cards and "mailed" them. We took turns in groups sorting and delivering the Valentines to their proper mailboxes. I remember volunteering for extra time in the kindergarten post office, because I had so much fun sorting the Valentines cards.
I don't know if it was that experience that set off a fascination for all things postal, but I really do have one. I was sad to hear of "my" post office and its split-door and old post office boxes burning down in 2001, when Kibbe's Busymart burnt. It's still kind of a treat to me to drop into a post office built in the 20s or 30s, with their murals, and tile-work on the floor, and Art Deco boxes and windows. The town where I went to college had one, and so does Wellsville, NY and Coudersport, PA. My post office in Genesee is one of the newer ones, built in the 1980s, I think, when the Post Office was building all kinds of new post offices across the country. The boxes aren't the cool Art Deco ones you'll see in older post offices, but the building is very efficient and functional, and they always have my stamps and mailing supplies (I LOVE the flat-rate boxes!) In Wexford, where my sister lives, that post office is super-new, and super-automated. You can go in there and buy stamps, mail packages, and get your mail 24-7. I bought a bunch of "Forever" holiday stamps a couple years ago, at 9 p.m., from the stamp machine at the Wexford post office. And then the post office in Waikiki's International Marketplace in Honolulu, Hawaii was an interesting one. I didn't see any boxes there- I'm sure the people who live in Honolulu have their post office boxes in places other than in a tree-house-like post office in the heart of the International Marketplace in Waikiki. But for lack of post office boxes, this post office is downright bustling all day, every day, with tourists sending home post cards and packages- honestly, with souvenirs you'd buy in Hawaii, you're better off packing them up, putting them in a Flat-Rate box, and shipping them home to yourself instead of packing them in your luggage and leaving it up to chance and the mood of the airline baggage handlers. If I hadn't have been in Waikiki in Hawaii, I would have hung out at the post office a little longer, just to see how they do their day-to-day. But it was really fun to get home and have all my things I sent home from Hawaii stamped with "Aloha"
I know we can do a bunch of stuff online that we used to do and send through the mail. And I know there are other options for sending parcels now. But the thing is, I hope the post office turns things around and that we don't lose it. We might pay our bills online now, but we're always going to need to send real things. For a special birthday or a get-well wish, there's no beating a real card. Emails are fun, but there's nothing like getting an actual hand-written letter from a friend. We still need the post office.
I will be absolutely heartbroken if Zoe gets to kindergarten and instead of filling out Valentines for everybody in the class, and hand-delivering them to handmade mailboxes, they just email each other Valentine's greetings, or beam them to each other's kindersmartphones or whatever the choice electronic device in early childhood education enhancement will be in 2016-2017. I want her to know the pleasure of holding a real card in her hands and seeing a friend's early handwriting scrawled across the back of the card.
Nobody delivers the real like the post office.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Happy Election Day!
It's finally Election Day, after a long and contentious 2012. There's been a lot of name-calling and ugliness in general. Over the last few weeks, the political attack-ads have been impossible to avoid. My Facebook friends have been complaining about endless political calls. We've been spared in my house, but I feel for those who've had their weekends and evenings interrupted by calls from Clint Eastwood and Susan B. Anthony -yes, seriously! A FB friend reported a phone call from the suffragette.
So I say Happy Election Day, in the hope that after today, we can say good-bye to the attack ads and unwanted phone calls and that we can get back to remembering that despite our differences, despite who we each individually voted for, we're ALL Americans, and we're all in this together. I'm hoping that after today, we can all try to see a little positive in each other, red and blue and purple and green.
That's all for today.
So I say Happy Election Day, in the hope that after today, we can say good-bye to the attack ads and unwanted phone calls and that we can get back to remembering that despite our differences, despite who we each individually voted for, we're ALL Americans, and we're all in this together. I'm hoping that after today, we can all try to see a little positive in each other, red and blue and purple and green.
That's all for today.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Just When You Get Feeling Good About Things
Wow, I've been in a rotten mood the last couple days. There's been a lot going on around here, lots of residual stress floating around and settling in the corners, and of course, there's the weather all week. But then, there's this pernicious thing that I think acts like an intensifier for the bad mood. It's election season, and the TV's been full of all kinds of negative ads.
I watch TV only in the evenings, from the 5 o'clock news on usually, but in that time, most of the commercials are campaign commercials. I never thought I'd look forward to an evening of Cellino and Barnes ads, or a slew of Fucillo commercials. But with the onslaught of attack ads between Kathy Hochul and Chris Collins, that already puts a foul taste in the mouth (especially since I don't get to vote for either of those people, as they're from New York, and I live just inside PA). Then just when I start feeling really thankful that I live in America, the SuperPAC ads for President come on, and holy cow, it makes it sound like this country is going straight down the crapper and it's all the president's fault. Makes a person just want to pull on a flak jacket, helmet, and go hide under a table in the basement until this all ends.
I don't think things are perfect here in America. There's a lot wrong. But I think you find what you look for, and if you're looking for negative, you're going to find it. If we're being fed a constant stream of these negative ads, it's hard to feel positive about the good there is around. It reminds me of Ghostbusters II, when that slime is running under New York City, and it fed off bad feeling and in return magnified the bad feelings in people, so it was just a never-ending cycle of ugliness.
I don't think we need to call the Ghostbusters to fix all this feeding negativism that seems to be going around and making all of us ugly. Maybe it wouldn't hurt. Laughter can lift spirits. I hope it's not too much to ask that after next Tuesday, when the lights go out on Election Day, that we all start being a little nicer, and start looking for the positive that's out there. I know it is! Bad moods are contagious. Do you really want your mood to be influenced by some politician's attack ad on TV? I don't.
C'mon. Let's be happy!
I watch TV only in the evenings, from the 5 o'clock news on usually, but in that time, most of the commercials are campaign commercials. I never thought I'd look forward to an evening of Cellino and Barnes ads, or a slew of Fucillo commercials. But with the onslaught of attack ads between Kathy Hochul and Chris Collins, that already puts a foul taste in the mouth (especially since I don't get to vote for either of those people, as they're from New York, and I live just inside PA). Then just when I start feeling really thankful that I live in America, the SuperPAC ads for President come on, and holy cow, it makes it sound like this country is going straight down the crapper and it's all the president's fault. Makes a person just want to pull on a flak jacket, helmet, and go hide under a table in the basement until this all ends.
I don't think things are perfect here in America. There's a lot wrong. But I think you find what you look for, and if you're looking for negative, you're going to find it. If we're being fed a constant stream of these negative ads, it's hard to feel positive about the good there is around. It reminds me of Ghostbusters II, when that slime is running under New York City, and it fed off bad feeling and in return magnified the bad feelings in people, so it was just a never-ending cycle of ugliness.
I don't think we need to call the Ghostbusters to fix all this feeding negativism that seems to be going around and making all of us ugly. Maybe it wouldn't hurt. Laughter can lift spirits. I hope it's not too much to ask that after next Tuesday, when the lights go out on Election Day, that we all start being a little nicer, and start looking for the positive that's out there. I know it is! Bad moods are contagious. Do you really want your mood to be influenced by some politician's attack ad on TV? I don't.
C'mon. Let's be happy!
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Next Year, I'll Do Better
Maybe it's because Halloween fell on a Wednesday, or because it was cold and rainy tonight, or the other day, the East Coast experienced the worst storm in the history of forever, or maybe it's just because I live in the country, but I experienced an all-time low in trick-or-treaters since I moved to my present house.
Back in the house we used to live in, we got no trick-or-treaters. I used to buy bags of candy from Sams Club and put on the porch light, in anticipation of trick-or-treaters, since we lived on the main drag between Gold and Genesee. But we had a few things going against us back then. We lived 3 miles from town, we lived right across from a natural food store, and Shane's a dentist. That's like the perfect storm for attracting Zero Trick-or-Treaters. I bet people didn't stop, because they took us to be the kind of people who handed out raisins and toothbrushes. It's okay. That meant I got to eat all those glorious Sams Club-size bags of candy, all by myself.
I thought it'd be different when we moved to our house on the hill! We live in a nice little community now! There were kids around! I'd seen them waiting for the bus, mornings. Our house had a (deserved) reputation for being haunted. The first year we lived here, we had a good bit of trick-or-treaters. They mostly came by car, which is how my sister and I used to trick-or-treat, thanks to our growing up in the country. But that's great! I love trick-or-treaters that come by car!
I think the most trick-or-treaters we ever had was fifteen. To me, that's a "good bit." But of course, I buy my Halloween supplies in bulk from Sams Club and Oriental Trading, as though I live in a McMansion in a neighborhood with a sought-after ZIP code, both at Halloween AND during the Christmas Light Season. Of course, this year, I bought my Halloween supplies in bulk from SmileyCookie.com, because I signed up for Smiley Cookie's emails and found out they had mini Smiley Cookies, individually wrapped and ready to hand out to trick-or-treaters.
Now, I knew that I'd have more cookies than I'd have trick-or-treaters, so I wasn't at all apologetic for stuffing one mini Smiley Cookie in my mouth whole, while clutching another in each hand. I had a whole case of Smiley Cookies! Until I started being able to see the bottom of the case. But I had an email with a discount code, so I did what anyone under the control of a sweet tooth would do: I ordered another case of Halloween Smiley Cookies.
Tonight, I had the pleasure of seeing five trick-or-treaters. My trick-or-treaters got three mini Smiley Cookies each. To put this into perspective, a mini Smiley is about equal to a full-size candy bar. So my trick-or-treaters kind of hit the jackpot. Unless they were hoping for the full-size candy bar. They probably were, weren't they? I'd never heard of a Smiley Cookie until my college friend from St. Marys brought some Smiley Cookies back once, sophomore year. So it's entirely possible that my trick-or-treaters, and my trick-or-treaters that didn't stop this year, thinking they'd be getting the same stress ball, pencil, skull bracelet, skeleton bendy toy and Blake Dentistry toothbrush in a goodie bag that I gave out the last 2 years, just don't understand the magic of a Smiley Cookie, even a mini one, and why it's something to get excited about.
Five trick-or-treaters is better than zero trick-or-treaters, but I think next year, I can do better. I will do better! I'll decorate for Halloween like I mean it! I'll will good weather so I can have Ginger parked out in the front yard, dressed appropriately for a 40-year-old Gremlin on Halloween. I'll get more Smiley Cookies, maybe. Heck, I'll even dress up!
One of these years, I hit the magic mark of 20 trick-or-treaters. One of these years, the kids will find out that even though Shane's a dentist, I'm the one who controls the Trick-or-Treat bowl. They might get a toothbrush (this year, they didn't, because I plum forgot), but I also make sure there's something cool with the toothbrush!
Next year, I'll do better! I promise!!!
Back in the house we used to live in, we got no trick-or-treaters. I used to buy bags of candy from Sams Club and put on the porch light, in anticipation of trick-or-treaters, since we lived on the main drag between Gold and Genesee. But we had a few things going against us back then. We lived 3 miles from town, we lived right across from a natural food store, and Shane's a dentist. That's like the perfect storm for attracting Zero Trick-or-Treaters. I bet people didn't stop, because they took us to be the kind of people who handed out raisins and toothbrushes. It's okay. That meant I got to eat all those glorious Sams Club-size bags of candy, all by myself.
I thought it'd be different when we moved to our house on the hill! We live in a nice little community now! There were kids around! I'd seen them waiting for the bus, mornings. Our house had a (deserved) reputation for being haunted. The first year we lived here, we had a good bit of trick-or-treaters. They mostly came by car, which is how my sister and I used to trick-or-treat, thanks to our growing up in the country. But that's great! I love trick-or-treaters that come by car!
I think the most trick-or-treaters we ever had was fifteen. To me, that's a "good bit." But of course, I buy my Halloween supplies in bulk from Sams Club and Oriental Trading, as though I live in a McMansion in a neighborhood with a sought-after ZIP code, both at Halloween AND during the Christmas Light Season. Of course, this year, I bought my Halloween supplies in bulk from SmileyCookie.com, because I signed up for Smiley Cookie's emails and found out they had mini Smiley Cookies, individually wrapped and ready to hand out to trick-or-treaters.
Now, I knew that I'd have more cookies than I'd have trick-or-treaters, so I wasn't at all apologetic for stuffing one mini Smiley Cookie in my mouth whole, while clutching another in each hand. I had a whole case of Smiley Cookies! Until I started being able to see the bottom of the case. But I had an email with a discount code, so I did what anyone under the control of a sweet tooth would do: I ordered another case of Halloween Smiley Cookies.
Tonight, I had the pleasure of seeing five trick-or-treaters. My trick-or-treaters got three mini Smiley Cookies each. To put this into perspective, a mini Smiley is about equal to a full-size candy bar. So my trick-or-treaters kind of hit the jackpot. Unless they were hoping for the full-size candy bar. They probably were, weren't they? I'd never heard of a Smiley Cookie until my college friend from St. Marys brought some Smiley Cookies back once, sophomore year. So it's entirely possible that my trick-or-treaters, and my trick-or-treaters that didn't stop this year, thinking they'd be getting the same stress ball, pencil, skull bracelet, skeleton bendy toy and Blake Dentistry toothbrush in a goodie bag that I gave out the last 2 years, just don't understand the magic of a Smiley Cookie, even a mini one, and why it's something to get excited about.
Five trick-or-treaters is better than zero trick-or-treaters, but I think next year, I can do better. I will do better! I'll decorate for Halloween like I mean it! I'll will good weather so I can have Ginger parked out in the front yard, dressed appropriately for a 40-year-old Gremlin on Halloween. I'll get more Smiley Cookies, maybe. Heck, I'll even dress up!
One of these years, I hit the magic mark of 20 trick-or-treaters. One of these years, the kids will find out that even though Shane's a dentist, I'm the one who controls the Trick-or-Treat bowl. They might get a toothbrush (this year, they didn't, because I plum forgot), but I also make sure there's something cool with the toothbrush!
Next year, I'll do better! I promise!!!
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