Please Mr Postman, look and see...

I like letters. I particularly like receiving them but I also like writing them.

When I lived in the UK for nearly four years I used to write 10 pages home every week, as my mother did for over 37 years after moving from Newcastle to Hobart. It's actually easier to write every week than to write once every year when it seems necessary to only write about the important stuff. In a weekly letter, it's just like continuing a conversation and it's ok to include trivia.

Sadly, now I only seem to write proper letters when someone dies and email doesn't seem appropriate.
I do write frequent letters to the paper, but I think that comes under the category of Grumpy Old Woman Having a Rant.

Given how much I enjoy receiving letters, a couple of years ago I made a resolution to write more. I bought nice stationary (for my printer) and tracked down a font that looked like handwriting (only better and easier to read).

I think I've written two letters in the two years since.

But today I've been re-inspired by reading Love your letter box, or see it die. I can't be without my letterbox - where would my catalogues go? I must do my bit to keep Australia Post in business.

Also, thx to Leah Dieterich who makes it her business to write a thank you note every day.
I like this one:

And my mother's friend Mary who writes such beautiful letters and helped raise my mother's spirits when she was in hospital three years ago after a serious accident.

Finally, I have all those postage stamps in my wallet which I need to use before the price of stamps goes up in just a few weeks.

So look out for a real old-fashioned letter coming to a letter box near you.

Chocolate crawl

I couldn't let the opportunity pass to write about my recent Chocolate Crawl around Melbourne.
What better way to spend a significant birthday?

First stop was the Lindt Cafe in Collins Street. Just looking.

A little later, Haigh's in the Block Arcade, reliving the memories of my visit to the Home of Haigh's in Adelaide, back in March. Again, just looking.

Finally, my destination: Koko Black in the Royal Arcade, to linger over a glass of hot chocolate affogato, to watch the chocolate being made, and to purchase a little something for the homeward journey.

Yum!

Mousetrap

Anyone else enjoy this game in the sixties? It promoted the idea that catching mice was fun.
Well it's not.

Many of my friends have a mouse story to tell at the moment. Here, we've seen - and caught - the occasional intruder since the first one was sighted on Christmas Day, usually by setting traps over night and disposing of the body the next morning.
On Mothers Day I was sitting in the Comfy Chair reading when one brazen rodent trotted happily past, just a couple of feet away, and disappeared under the fridge.
I found a trap, baited it with a choc bit (cooking chocolate for the uninitiated) and went back to my book. A short time later, the mouse ended up with its head clamped in the trap.

But it didn't die. And this was the worst part. I was alone without backup, and worried it was going to escape and crawl under the fridge to die a slow and odorous death. I once killed a rat with a broom handle (because my boys were at risk) and was not keen to repeat the experience. I debated using the dust pan and brush to move it, trap and all, outside, admittedly to avoid having to witness its demise, but even as I moved closer to consider this, the poor creature gave its final death throes and passed into the rodent afterlife.

I found this really disturbing, and it put me in mind of a conversation with a young lad at work a few weeks ago who it seems "loves his shooting". Nothing better than a weekend with a gun and a few roos for target practice. When I expressed distaste he immediately trotted out the arguments about them being vermin, providing food etc.

But my issue is that people who shoot have no problem watching animals die. It doesn't matter why they're shooting, but that moment of watching a living, breathing creature suffer and become still, is not something anyone should relish.

I kill mice because I will not have them in the house and they haven't left when I've asked them nicely.

But I do not enjoy it.

Mothers' Day Catalogues

I wrote this seven years ago. I'm pleased to note that as well as pink pajamas, Mothers' Day catalogues now feature pink digital cameras, Nintendo DS and pink toolkits.

Mother’s Day

I’m leafing through the latest Mother’s Day catalogues deciding which items to circle and leave lying around in strategic places should the family need a little help.
This is what I’ve discovered so far:
Four different brands of hair straightener and one curling iron
I didn’t know straight hair was so popular!
Ten pages of perfumes and beauty products
No four-year old boy (or husband for that matter) should be encouraged to buy these for you unless your tastes are very well-defined.
Fluffy slippers and pyjamas with bears
I read somewhere recently that adults with bears on their clothing is a sign of serious psychological disturbance. But I guess they’re ok on the PJs. Still, a bit mumsy. Just because you’re a mother doesn’t mean you’re condemned to a life of flannelette.
Electrical appliances
Do NOT give Mother an iron (except one of those $500 ones I saw advertised recently, and then, only if it’s accompanied by someone to actually DO the ironing.)
Underwear
Would you buy your mother a bra for Mother’s Day? Should my four year old buy me one? No, no, no.
Chocolates
Well ok. I have no argument with this!
Exercise balls and get fit videos
You should tread very carefully here. This is a present that should not be given unless specifically requested!
And my own personal favourite:
Wind chimes that “simulate the randomness of natural wind”
Great – you can listen to irritating tinkling without the bother of actually going outside and getting your straight hair mussed up.
But of course all I really want for Mother’s Day is hugs from my special people.
Well ok, maybe hugs and chocolate.

Grumpy over grammar

Me: "A flat white coffee, please"
Coffee Person: "Any sugars with that?"
Me: "If I'd wanted sugar I would have asked for sugar (singular)."

Check out Person: "Did you want a bag?"
Me: "Well I did, but now I don't."

Serving Person: "Is that all today?"
Me: "I don't know. I may come back this afternoon."

Red things

Every year I particularly enjoy the grape vine outside the kitchen window as it changes through the seasons. It will be spectacularly red for a short time before shedding all its leaves for winter. The vine is rumoured to be nearly as old as our house which was built in 1891. I like the way it intertwines with my tomato bush which is still covered with green tomatoes in April.



Last week my sister came back from a holiday in Japan and brought me this beautiful red lacquer tray. Will have to find something very special to put in it.




I used to have a lot of exciting shoes. People meeting me in the street often looked first at my feet. Since giving away all my high heels I've struggled to maintain my standards.
I found these this week for $45. I'd just been to visit my sister's sister-in-law who was in the neurosurgery ward after falling off her horse. Whilst there I talked to the Lord Mayor who had fallen off his motorcycle. He told me someone I'd worked with was also on the ward. In the last week she'd had surgery, lost the ability to read and been given 18 months to live. I spoke to her briefly. What do you say? She said at least it was 18 months rather than one day. A chance to do all those things you've always wanted to do, I suggested (but couldn't because you were being sensible, or waiting until it was convenient).
I'll think of her every time I wear these shoes.

Junkmail Junkie

My name is Beth and I'm a junkmail junkie. A closet catalogue collector.

Every week at least a truckload of catalogues get shoved into our letterbox. I rescue them, smooth them out, then sit down with a nice cup of coffee and enjoy leafing through.

My boys give me a really hard time because they say it's a huge waste of paper and hypocritical given my views on sustainable resources.

So I wonder, would I enjoy catalogues as much if they came by email? I already get a few that way, various things that I've subscribed to including retailers that I've handed my details over to because they shamelessly promised me discounts and frequent shopper points.

And yes, I quite like them, though I tend to read them in a hurry, while I'm sitting at the computer doing other things.

So I don't think they give me quite the same buzz as free, unsolicited catalogues in my letterbox. There's something about the unknown, and the unexpected that surpasses things you've chosen to have delivered. You never know just what might be lurking in the pile (it was a huntsman once, but even that didn't deter me).

And they're useful when there's a birthday coming up, because you can circle something and leave it lying around in the hope that someone will get the hint.

So I keep resisting the calls for a "No junk mail" sticker on the letter box, and any day now the Mothers Day catalogues will start arriving. These are not just fun to read, but make some interesting statements about society's view of mothers.

But that's for another day.