I got loads of mail today. Most days we’ll get a lot, but it’s all junk, today there was hardly any junk at all. I got two birthday cards, a letter, and a piece of forwarded mail for our tenants. The cards were nice, and the letter was nice too. I’ve flirted with correspondence a lot throughout my life, my ex girlfriend and I, who were long distance, wrote loads of letters. Living with Abby for almost a decade now, we haven’t had the chance to write many letters. And that is exactly how it ought to be.

But some people you have got to write, and some people I ought to write more often. I doubt I’ll get around to doing much more than I do, but maybe a bit more.

I’ve got people to congratulate on their babies, and on their grand babies. And those same people I should thank for the kindness they lent me when my dog died out in Oakland.  Their apartment was one room, and they let me crash there for what felt like a long time. I slept out in the van, I think, but I spent a lot of time catatonic on the couch watching devastating movies and feeling sorry for myself. Which I suppose is fair enough.

Anyways I owe them a letter.