I'm lucky to know some pretty fantastic people that like to share delicious food, special drink, conversation, and potluck fun. This is a teensytiny sampling of the spread we had this past Sunday, um, half-eaten.

Sundays. My favorite day. As my grandmother would say, "Why, I never..."

I suppose I was brought up under the impression that half statements were actually full statements.

I'm not sure this has served me well.

This may explain some things.

beets? gone. apple/rasp pie? gone. sweet potato w/ nutty crust? gone. bean salad? one more serving.
lentils? gawd, there's still a pot full..

It's been a fine week so far, and coming home to mail, real mail, helps:

We talk to each other, and ourselves, in our letters

sometimes we don't have to say much

 and other times we make tiny books with doodles and after thoughts
because we're paper people, which means piles of paper scraps

always, we write like we talk... for better or worse.

and we always end on a high note

And, finally, this is pretty fantastic: