…are better than others. I travel quite a bit (surprise I know) and so for years, I’ve had my mail sent to a family owned parcel service down the street. They also do printing and shipping for my company so to say that they take good care of me is an understatement of epic proportion. And being a small, family business, they work their asses off.
Most mail pickup days are rather mundane and some are rather scary. I no longer get—fingers crossed here—registered packets from attorneys since we aren’t being litigated this year and I’m not amidst divorce. And IRS envelopes no longer quicken my pulse at all. If you own a business, you get used to those queries coming with some regularity. I also love the fact that I can dump junk mail and leave large packet and shipping boxes there for my friends to recycle or dispose. My monthly service fee is worth this courtesy alone. But the other day manifested a parcel pick up bonanza.
My Whistler etching by Boldini finally showed up. And it’s even more awe-inspiring in person.
Will from A Suitable Wardrobe was the first to send me a Christmas card as well as a pair of his great Bresciani socks. Will is a kind and thoughtful fella and as I’ve said before, the most knowledgeable guy out there with regards to the technical aspects of bespoke clothing. And his socks are truly a great indulgence. Click over there and treat yourself.
An Enduring Style rolled in. I’ll do a separate post on this great Bruce Boyer annotated tome later. (And just shut the ___ up in advance. I know I need to vacuum the rug. When do I not need to vacuum the rug(s) around here. I said shut up.)
The most surprising package contained the Kilim rug shown here. My buddy Scott is serving us in Pakistan…fulfilling his Reserve duty for one year in what is becoming day-by-day, an even dodgier spot for anyone to do their Duty. He emailed mentioning that during his very limited down time, there wasn’t much to do or much to spend money on—except rugs. So I just rather flippantly replied … “well hell Scotty, send me one…” And he did.
And finally, a huge ass Molasses Cake. My other Christmas present that I didn’t deserve. E.G. sends me all kinds of random stuff that she knows I’ll love…but this is the first time I’ve received something so tasty. I’ve had two slices this morning…slightly toasted with butter…washed down with coffee. And LFG hovered two pieces last night with, as E.G. instructed best to do, a cold glass of milk. Worry not about the en route concave-esque sequelae. It hindered not--the taste.
Onward. Waiting for my (grown) baby to wake. Wallowing in cool stuff. And eatin' cake.