Send Me Emails, Too

Contrary to appearances, I don't need constant feedback from my friends to shore up massive insecurities. (My insecurities are moderate to high, but certainly not massive.) The postcards I requested continue to come in at a pleasing trickle. Recently added to my collection:

Kansas -- Barbara G. Everybody needs pictures of pigs on the living room wall!

Jerusalem -- Craig S. Nothing like a windmill to evoke the feel of Biblical times.

The Walters Museum, Baltimore -- Danielle J. If I have friends who work at art museums and send me prints of famous paintings, then I can be cultured and not have to visit art museums myself.

Grand Teton National Park, California -- Janice P. Them are some *real* mountains.

My collection by this time is positively delightful. I've got almost enough to start mounting them. Almost enough? Well, I don't have *yours* yet, do I? (You know who you are.)

Postcards aside, the following request is strictly business.

Some may remember a year or two ago when my email program crashed and I lost all my addresses. Guess what! That's right! It did it again! I don't know if it's my computer, or email program, or just bad karma, but crashes like this happen relatively frequently. It's annoying, but it at least saves me the trouble of having to sort emails. This way, I lose every darn one. So unless you're one of the four or five people who has sent me an email since this morning, I don't have your address. Would you mind zipping one my way? It doesn't even have to be a note, just something so I can restore your address to my book.

Things are calming down here, and we hope to be able to sit down and judge Scavenger Hunts soon. Thanks to all of you for your prayers and sympathy for Daphne. She's doing very well.

-- SJ

P.S. Of course, if you did want to utilize your email to tell me how much you love my writing and my sparkling personality, my insecurities would be okay with that.