Post Office

You have to understand, I hate to get the mail. If it were not for the mail I could convince myself that I live in my own little world of my own making. But every two or three weeks I force myself to go to the post office and get the good news and bad news. You know, the phone bill that says pay up or else, the electric bill that says the same. The letter from the State of New York wanting to know how much my farm business made last year, farm catalogues, slick ads from cheap stores, on and on. Today, however, was different. My beautiful socks from SockLadyLynne arrived. They are perfect - light enough to wear with any shoes and just as colorful as the pictures she emailed me. They fit perfectly, too. I also got a lovely handwritten note from a lady who bought my Shepherd's Friend Hand Creme last May at New Hampshire Sheep and Wool. She ranted and raved about the creme and enclosed a check for two more. The order came at just the right time. I had been thinking Why in the world am I doing this? With over 2,000 hits on my web site I have only had four little orders. The New Hampshire lady and her order will keep me grinding away at the Cuisinart indefinitely. The BOCES school where I work sent me my back to school papers and class list. Seven old friends and two new victims. I guess they want me back again. Good thing - no job, no sheep. Matt would have the livestock trailer from the meat packers in here so fast it's not funny. As long as I can support them I can have them. School is a good thing, with good people. If Gretchen my history teacher friend keeps making me coffee every day I guess I can make it through another year.