Saturday, May 27, 2006
A Special Birthday Gift
A special someone emailed me and asked, "Didja get the package?"
I wrote back, "WHAT package?" in an excited way. (Yes, I can type enthusiastically.)
I found out 'what' package when I went to the leasing office of my apartment complex that kindly didn't inform me I had a package. All this service for just $950 a month.

Anyway, I got home and had Vanna help me display this package. I shook it gently. It rattled gently. I took a picture:
After opening this package of wonder, we stared in excitement. "What could it be? What could it BE?"
There was a lovely card and a terribly kind bit of words for Fritz--and I quote:

Dearest Fritz, Thank Heaven for you! You help bring out the best in me.
Happy Birthday! Love, Muthana (SG)
However, she did not explain why Michael had half of his hand cleaved off in the process of opening the package. Don't worry--I knitted him a new one.

In the end, I found a lovely bouquet of daisies--a flower representing innocence and hope. I am touched beyond belief. What a wonderful friend I have in Spinning Girl. I feel another ode shall be written. She has a heart of gold, and a knack for making me cry. Thank you, my dear Arachnae-Athena-Aphrodite.

You helped make my birthday a wonderful one. Posted by Picasa
Written by FRITZ
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Name: Fritz

Location: Detroit Rock City!
Where the weak are killed and eaten

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What My Brain is Eating
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    What I Live By:
    We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, unremembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning; At the source of the longest river The voice of the hidden waterfall And the children in the apple-tree Not known, because not looked for But heard, half-heard, in the stillness Between two waves of the sea. Quick now, here, now, always— A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one. -T.S. Eliot "Little Gidding"

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