For those of you following along at home, my Foster kitty Precious was adopted last week. She was with me for 4 1/2 months - way longer than the typical foster situation, due to the pandemic making the usual adoption events impossible, and enough time for her to capture my heart.
Every evening after we both had dinner, I’d settle on the sofa and dive into my Netflix list. Precious would join me, rubbing on me and demanding petting. If I stopped too soon, she’d tap my arm. Then she’d collapse against me and purr herself to sleep.
I dang near became a Foster Failure, but I’m thrilled that we found her Forever Home. I kissed her head and wished her a long, happy, healthy life with her new family. Now I’m ready for the next homeless kitty that needs me.--Claudie Wilson
Hiatus update: I finally got to the post office yesterday. The pandemic has made this usually-easy task into quite the adventure. I used to be able to drop packages in the corner mailbox. About a year ago New York changed all drop boxes into letter slot only. Nothing thicker than a business envelope fit through the slot.
So, ok, no problem. I just hopped on the L-train to First Ave, skipped up the steps to the PO, dropped the packages, Bob's your uncle. It took an hour all told, but ok.
Then with the pandemic, there was no more getting on the subway.
And I didn't even know if the post office was open.
So I dawdled.
Then, when I knew I was coming to beautiful downtown Queens, I remembered there is post office close by that didn't require getting on the subway. So I hauled the packages in my suitcase and then today, got on the bus to the PO. (The bus will need to be a separate tale!)
I got to the PO and the line was out the door and down the block. The idea of standing in line stopped me cold. But then I realized, those folks were waiting for window service. I just needed to drop off. So I walked up to the door. And was met with a terrifying sight: a ten year old girl with a skateboard who had clearly been dragged to the PO with her mom, and was now looking at someone intent on Cutting the Line. I've seen danger before, but I tell you, a shiver ran down my spine.
I paused before finning the door and said to her "I just need to drop these envelopes in the bin right there. I'm not cutting the line, I promise."
She graciously nodded, and I went in.
There was one window open and more than 20 people in line.
I've never been more grateful for stamps.com than I was at that moment.
Packages in the mail.
Back home on the bus.
Thanks again to all you helping with blog content while I catch up.