Along with kudos for my brownies, I receive (sometimes lengthy... sometimes in teeny tiny font.... hint ... hint...) newsletters printed on festive paper. No one ever has a bad day in those letters, unless you're Airman Dentist, and then all the reader can do is shake her head at the fact that they've come out at the end of December still intact. For the most part, though, they are announcements of new jobs, new relationships, new homes, new trips, new babies (guilty).
Poor report cards don't make it into the headlines, or even the fine print. I'm not judging or complaining. I'm just stating the facts as they appear in my mailbox.
Today's mail brought some astonishing news. Our friend is the new Ambassador to Canada.
I had to stop and let it sink in for a while. TBG hired him decades ago, I watched them build their dream house and create a dream family and now he's representing our country to our neighbors to the north. They are the perfect people to take on such a task; I'm just having a hard time getting my head around the fact that Bruce is now Mr. Ambassador.
The picture on the front of the card were Mr. & Mrs. doing something to a black hatted something while wearing furry earflap hats and mittens with a maple leaf. Honestly, denizens, it's a mystery ... but a happy mystery... and one that, perhaps you can help us solve.
Any ideas will be gratefully accepted.
That's the most surprising bit of news we received. There were weddings and fabulous vacations and academic accomplishments galore, of course. The mail brings no bills (I'm paperless these days) and the advertising circulars have mercifully disappeared. Instead, my trek to the mailbox brings me smiles and memories and love.
I hope you are reveling, too.