Among the vast, but becoming smaller, piles of stuff I have, you'll find boxes of stationery. I've been reducing the amount of paper I have, but I did have a large amount of cards and nice paper for writing letters. I like receiving letters, so I write them, give unto others and all that jazz. It's been a while since I've sent letters on a consistent basis. One of the things I did was keep a list of to whom I had mailed a particular card, so that I wouldn't send them, say, the same Winnie the Pooh card. When you buy boxes of cards in sets of 20, keeping track of who received the cards becomes mildly important.

Because, really, sending duplicate cards runs in the family. When you're a Hodsden and find a card you like, you stick with it, dammit. Why do I say "Hodsden" in that line?

Observe.

From my brother, on two separate birthdays, two years apart:

And from my dad, on two separate Christmases, two years apart:

Really, though, I love that they sent the same cards. It's an endearing quirk of this side of the family, and I love them for it.

At this point, the doggie is merely tolerating the camera shoved up her nose.

Which is to say, still alive.

Why that dog puts up with me, I may never know.

But she does.

And I'm glad she does.

And, yes, still alive.

It's like Starbucks doesn't really want you to know they have an 8oz (short) sized cup.

Not sure if the out of focus feature of this picture helps or hurts the message being sent, but, yeah, you see that right.