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Breaking News

Stamp prices are about to go up another cent on May 12! I have been upset with the USPS since last July when I was blindsided by the 41 cent stamp and since then, the stamp selection has been poor. On the day that I found out, I was with JD in SF and we stopped into a PO (this is fun). I think I already told this story, but I'll continue as it's relevant. An old man, probably in his 80's or 90's, was ranting on and on, "Long live the GPO!" (the British version of USPS). We have no idea what his primary complaint was, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was something like mine: why didn't you tell us that you're going to raise the prices and why are all the stamps so ugly? When I express this discontent to people, they say, "What about the Liberty Bell?" I love my country, I really do, but I want something pretty...art, architecture, quilts. These were great stamps. I don't send mail, I send letters. I want the stamp to be as meaningful as the stationery and the fact that I've handwritten your address on the envelope. So no, I will not buy the Forever stamps. And if the only thing left at the post office are the American flags, I'm going to go to zazzle.com to make my own.

I am impressed by the USPS website right now though. Despite the fact that you have to google "stamp rate increase" in order to find out anything about the new prices, they have this promo going on called The Power of the Letter. You may have seen the phrase on the cancellation stamp on your recent mail. HBO is airing a miniseries based on the letters that John Adams wrote during the founding of this country. I hope there's a book about this because John Adams seems like my kind of guy. If you go to USPS, you can get one free card sent to you with a quote from him such as ""Now Letter-Writing is, to me, the most agreable Amusement: and Writing to you the most entertaining and Agreable of all Letter-Writing" or "I read, and read again your charming Letters, and they serve me, in some faint degree as a substitute for the Company and Conversation of the Writer." Awesome! I'm pretty sure I haven't written anything as profound in my letters and they won't likely make it into any books after I die, but I do like to think about the life of my letters after I write them. I've started to photocopy some and as many of you know, I save every letter I get and store them. So, if any of you are ever famous, your letters may be read across America!

One more thought on letters. Today, I asked my students to writ thank you postcards to the parents who helped us on our recent multi-day trip to Sacramento to visit colleges. About 20% of the students who wrote their own address on the envelope put it in the right spot. I had a minor meltdown. There were addresses in the very top right, the very bottom one inch of the card, on the left, right in the middle with writing all around it. I think after spring break, I'm going to do a lesson on addressing mail. I know we're moving toward a world where everything is digital, but thinking about what their college applications will look like puts me in a panic right now.

A Request

I wish that people knocked on public bathroom doors, rather than just going for the handle. There is nothing more frightening than hearing someone turn the doorknob when you are in a compromised position. I will admit that I never really know the right thing to say when someone knocks. "Just a minute" is sometimes a lie as is "be right out." I often just blurt out frantically , "someone's in here." It always feels awkward to say, but it gets the point across.

Ahhh...Sundays

How I love the weekend. Yesterday, even though I spent hours in a class that is required for me to teach indoor cycling at the Y, hours that seemed slow and unimportant, I did get to take my lunch at the farmer's market at the Ferry Building in San Francisco. Other than there being way too many people for me to feel really comfortable, this is like going to temple for me. The Ferry Building does a market every Tuesday and Saturday and they have all the produce and sundries you could want. I brought my lunch and sat on a bench looking out on the bay and its bridge. It was one of those perfect California days. I sat next to a young guy who was playing his fiddle (or maybe it's a violin) in a folk-bluegrass style. I loved watching children be totally mesmerized by him, but still subconsciously dancing to the tunes. At some point, another guy came up with his fiddle. They didn't know each other, but introduced themselves, found out they were both named Nick, and got to playing. At this point, I'm pretty sure this is as good as it can get for me: warm sun, yummy food, great view, and good music. Although I have many moments of missing my home in the east, I am glad to know there are places I can go here that make me so content. Although, I'd still love to have a cute boy or even just a cut dog to love these places with me, but that's not in the cards right now.

Okay, so I really wanted to talk about Sunday. I am now getting the Times, which keeps me quite busy. My latest routine is to head to Cafe Borrone for their opening at 8am to read all I can before I start to feel guilty about holding a table for too long. I spend my first five minutes there grappling with what to order: waffles, egg scrambles with yummy ingredients, oatmeal, scones, Acme bakery toast. Food decisions overwhelm me, but I find something to order, take my order letter, and wait for delivery. There's the same cast of characters each week. The early birds include three men who seem to work together. They all sit at different tables with their papers (a mix of the Times and the SF Chronicle) and converse with each other across the walking spaces. The staff is pretty much the same on Sundays too. I know they recognize me, but I haven't yet got to the point of knowing anyone's name or they mine, but I like the familiar faces. One guy is just about the nicest restaurant employee I know. He's always happy to see you and will get you whatever you want, and gives you just the right amount of personal space. Then there's the older gentleman that comes in around 10am each week. He is dressed nicely, maybe he's gone to church, and finds a seat by the window. Many of you know that I am a person who does well with rules and routines and this is no exception. I get my two hours each Sunday to start on the paper...I'm trying to discipline myself to read the current news before I get to the fun stuff like Travel and Styles. I am writing to you now from a sunny spot in my living room. Listening to The Wailin' Jennys play on Prairie Home Companion. They make great music. At some point, I'll have to get to my obligations for the day (laundry, cleaning, and schoolwork), but for now, it's nice to partake in the kind of wholesome hours that are refreshing and renewing and help me prepare for what will be a crazy, crazy week, ending with the "loss" of an hour. Yikes!

I hope you are enjoying your weekend.