Reply to the Scouting Letter

The words I hadn't dared hope I might hear [or read]

someday.

I called my sister K, trying to choke out the words...

'He wants to contact me.'

Surely there must be miracles because this is what one

must feel like.

July 15, 1999

[I responded by snail mail AND email to be double sure]

Dear Mom-of-Bryan,

A friend of mine lives in my old duplex and phoned me

yesterday to say that I had received a letter from you.

At first I was frightened that it may be bad news but it

was the most amazing news of all. I would be very

honored to hear from Bryan - it is something I have only

allowed myself to half hope for.

Your note was very sweet and I feel so incredibly grateful

to you for taking him and giving him all the things every

child deserves. I would love to communicate with you as

well. My new address is:

Merrily Down the Stream

Cute-1925-House-Under-Constant-Renovation

Deep South

I look forward to hearing from both of you and I am so

happy you are all well.

Sincerely,

Merrily

and now I wait...

Seasonal Serendipity

I stopped by the small in-town market to pick up a few 

things for dinner. As I stood in line I began chatting with 

the couple ahead of me buying a case of wine obviously 

for a party. There was a friendly, festive feel about the 

place. I bid them a Merry Christmas and turned to the 

two fresh-faced high school boys, one for check out, 

one for bagging, and smiled broadly. As the checker 

began scanning my items he inquired as to what I was 

making for Christmas dinner.

'Game hens' I replied, rifling through my huge bag 

looking for the correct plastic cards.

[pregnant pause]

'Scuse me, but did you say gay mens?' they both looked 

at me wide eyed.

I guffawed and heard a distinct echo.

I turned - behind me in line was a fabulously effeminate 

man laughing merrily.

I chortled 'Gay mens?!?!?!' hissing the 'S' slightly for effect.

'I am making Cornish Game Hens!'

The checker quickly back pedaled 'I don't mean to 

offend anybody but I thought you said 'Gay Mens..."

'You didn't offend anybody - THAT was funny!'

I high-fived the fabulously effeminate man, 

all of us now giggling uncontrollably.

Now the bagger chimed in 'I was going to ask how

you prepared that.'

'Well, I think you start somewhere back in the 

womb' I offered.

And as I walked away chuckling I thought of the full 

name of the recipe... 

Fruited Cornish Game Hens