Oh, y’all, I forgot to tell you the cutest thing. So, the other day, I went to mail a package to Colorado. I went over to the Whites Creek Post Office, which is just the most charming place. It’s the kind of place where you walk in and someone from the back shouts, “He’ll be right with you, hon.”
And he is! And he’s quick and competent and funny.
So, I’m sending the package, as I said, and the postal worker says, “Do you mind if I use up some of my stamps on your package?” And of course, I don’t mind. So, he puts a couple of stamps on there and I look and I say, “Ooo, James Michener!” And he says, “You know who James Michener is? You must be a reader. Most folks think this is a stamp to commemorate Hawaiian shirts.”
And I say, “Well, don’t get too excited. I didn’t know he was dead.”
But I was telling the Butcher this evening as we were on our Scottsboro errand that I totally would love a stamp series that commemorated the Hawaiian shirt. The USPS should totally do that.
While we were on our errand, we were telling our host about the beer chicken incident and we both got to laughing at the memory of it. I can’t believe that was five years ago. Dang. And we never tried beer chicken again.
I wish I could tell you what the Butcher is up to tonight, because it is hilarious. I will say this much: he told me, in the most forlorn voice ever, that it is a 3-D extravaganza. What kind of 3-D extravaganza makes a grown man mope?! I shouldn’t laugh. I’m sure it’s a fine 3-D extravaganza and, in part, he’s sad because he couldn’t afford My Morning Jacket tickets, but whew, it tickled me.