My husband wanted me to pick up 20 pre-stamped postcards as we needed them to mail off in some contest materials. If you send a self-addressed, pre-stamped postcard, the person at the other end will send it back which assures you that your entry got to where it needed to go.

At our local post office, there were no pre-stamped postcards to be had. The postal clerk said some guy came in and bought them out, over 100 cards. Come back next Monday.

I wonder why someone needs that many?

Not one to wait, I sat in my pickup and wrote out my contest submission checks, attached them to the various stories and poetry, and licked shut the envelopes. I drove to a neighboring city where it hit me that even if I got the postcards, it would do no good since I had LICKED SHUT THE ENVELOPES. Drat, dang, and crap!

So I thought, well, I drove all the way here and my husband wanted the postcards, so I’ll get them and mail off the envelopes, which is what I did. I hope.

The clerk seemed spacy, off in woo-woo land. She didn’t ask any of the 15 questions the clerks at the local post office do, like do you want express or priority or first class, etc. Is it hazardous, dangerous, or will it stink up the whole post office like a bad fart? She just weighed the envelopes and started sticking on stamps. On two of them. I asked for 20 pre-stamped postcards which have some lovely fish on them, by the way. I paid. I left.

At my pickup, I realized I needed verification for my taxes, so I went back in and asked for a receipt. She tore off what she’d done on the adding machine, stamped it with some official stamp, and gave it to me. But my other envelope sitting on her counter still had no stamps on it. As I left, she was looking at it as if it were an unrecognizable species from another planet.

“Hmmm. What do I do with this?” she seemed to be thinking. I swear I felt her woo-woo vibe clear out in my vehicle.

Now I’m worried. Especially with no pre-stamped postcard coming back to me saying my contest submissions were received. Did she actually put stamps on that last envelope and put the three packages in the “out” bag to be mailed?

Only time will tell. It does not pay to be a ditz. Or go to a post office where one is working.

Magnolia in Savannah

In May, I went to Georgia to visit my friend Martha West at her lovely Lake Hartwell home.

After that wonderful experience, I joined my friend Roseann for an Elderhostel tour of Savannah. If you like learning when you travel, I can’t recommend Elderhostel highly enough. It’s the only way to go, for me.

This is a magnolia I saw during a Savannah stroll.


Sprayed across the upper kitchen cabinets.
Decorating the blender and the toaster.
Adorning the counter top.
Clinging to my knees, toes, arms, and hair.
Nesting in my cleavage.
Resting on the floor.
Soaking in salt water.
Sauerkraut-making day.