Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Praise the Postal Service



I mailed two bed sized quilts about a month ago. One was queen sized and the other was king sized. I mailed them on Saturday just before the post office closed by Priority mail. On Monday the black and white one called Soul Sisters had arrived in Washington, DC. I was so surprised and happy that it got there so fast.

Both quilts were meant to be surprises for the new owners. The quilt arrived in DC so fast and I just knew the other one had made it home to New Orleans just as fast. Since I mailed the New Orleans quilt called Sharing the Love to a Post Office box, I figured it may take the recipient a couple of days to check the post box. I waited and waited and still no wonderful surprised call.

After two weeks I sent a text that said "check your post office box for a surprise." Which totally ruined the surprise but by then I was just concerned that the quilt might be lost in the mail. The responding text said, "did you send it to this address?" I was downstairs working and that address did not look the same. I ran up the stairs and searched for the address. I quickly texted back, "no I sent it to P.O. Box XXXX, New Orleans, LA with a totally different zip code." By then I was breathing pretty heavily and trying hard not to panic. I was slowly thinking how dumb it was to try to surprise her and how dumb it was that I didn't put a confirmation on it. The next text said, "This is my new address. I changed my post office box." My heart sunk. Oh no, I mailed it to the wrong address.

Panic was breathing down my neck. I remembered that Aunt Annie said, "If you pray don't worry, but if you worry don't bother to pray." So I switched to prayer mode. I found my receipt and considered going to the post office to find out what ever little they could tell me. When my mail man came by, I asked him what he thought the chances were of getting the box back. He said, "two weeks, I don't know. You might have something to worry about. Somebody might be excited about a nice gift in the mail." Not the right answer but he is still my favorite mail person.


The post office has gotten a lot of bad press of late, but I want to go on record to say that there are some wonderful people who work for the postal service. They always take good care of me. So I settled into a vision of the postman bringing the box back to me. Every time worry tried to slip into my mind, I visualized the postman and my box.


Long story short. I thought I would sleep late Saturday morning. Everybody knows that I get up early. So my friend called at 7:30am on Saturday with the wonderful surprise in her voice. Thank you for the quilt, she said. God is good and so is the postal service!

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Superwoman


I used to be Superwoman. I searched in every drawer and throughout the closet. I know it is here somewhere. I had it. I had a blouse with a "S" on it and a cape. Yes, I had a cape.

I used to wake up in the morning and bound out of bed. I could throw a baby on my back and work all day. I could juggle three children, work a job, come home cook dinner, help with homework and still have energy to spare. Now I have to coax myself out of bed. I tell myself that I need to exercise. Gone are the days when I could take my shape for granted. I have to work hard to look this good.

I could jump from one building to another in a single bound. All I had to do was bend down a little and leap. Now if I bend down someone has to help me up. I could have been gardening in my younger days. I could have grown food for us to eat. But NO, I was too busy out saving the world and making it free of villains and rascality. I had my ideas about how to help people, but I found out much later that they had different ideas.

Yep, I used to be Superwoman but I am passing that job on. I'm taking it easier and slower. I'm making quilts and loving it. No hurry. I love the idea of taking a few months to finish a project. I know that suit is here somewhere.

I found it. I think I'll make a quilt with a picture of me wearing it to commemorate the old days. What will I do with this outfit? Maybe I will give it to some unsuspecting young person [like I used to be], who doesn't have a clue. Not a clue.