Hey Boy, the Back of My Neck is Peeling

Dear John,

 

Today was chore day. I put the trash out for tomorrow morning, cleaned the bathrooms, did laundry, washed sheets and towels, and paid bills for the week. And I'm still working on that commissioned knitting. It's been a good, slowly-busy day.

 

I paid the homeowner's insurance for the year. I trimmed the policy a bit, but the bill still went up some. I got a quote about bundling it with the car insurance and discovered that I'd lose about $200 a year. They told me there was no way they could come near the price of a mutual aid company. So I'm staying where I am. I know you checked that about five years ago, but I wanted to see if anything had changed. I appreciate all the shopping-around you did for our insurance policies. They're still the best things for us. Me. Whatever this family is now. I still struggle with pronouns.

 

 

I didn't tell you yesterday was Pentecost because you know it much better than I do. But I saw this today, and couldn't resist. I also discovered a wonderful Facebook page called Grumpy Orthodox Cat. It's brilliant. Check it out - you'll love it. So here's the grumpy take on Pentecost, too.

 

Of course, I can't kneel either. At my first Kneeling Vespers I had no idea how long the prayers went on, so I knelt and nearly died. Now I know better, and I prostrate for them. I can prostrate until the cows come home. But my knees weren't meant for kneeling. Sadly, I cannot lick the back of my neck either. (And I can hear you saying, "That's what I'm here for.") The back of my neck could use some grooming right now; it's peeling from the day I mowed and trimmed. I should try not to do them both on the same day. I remember you did them on different days. I learned my lesson.

 

I love you so much! And I miss you. I'm due for a phone upgrade - what do you think they'd do if I asked for a plan that included you? I don't believe the technology is quite ready for that. But I'm happy to know all is well with you. And I look forward to being with you again. Maybe I'll get knees that will really kneel!

 

Love you forever,

Joan.