My mom and I both love to write. She lives in Florida and I live here in Columbia. We started a tradition of emailing each other on Sunday mornings many years ago. Here are some of our recent exchanges:
Dear Dr. Philo,
Attn: Assistant to the Assistant to the Vice-President of the Toy Soldier Line (TSL), Randolf Gustav
Dear Mr. Gustav,
Well, Hi-do, Cousin Pearlmae,
We’uns jest caint thank you nough fer a’helpin’ usins with gittin’ ready fer the Fair. How you was able to git Lauralee, our prize pig, washed and dressed in that polkidot goods — wall, t’is way beyond me. She done got wayed an, yep, was rite — 450 big ones. But Rose of Sharon, James Edward and me jest love every bit of her. An, we feel shore that Lauralee will be bringin’ usuns nother blue ribbon an’ a gold medal.
Thank you kindly, Pearlmae.
Yer the bestest cousin, Billybob
Wall, it wuz nuttin but fun heppin with Lauralee ..
she’s so sweet I hardly think of bacon when I git round that girl. I is standin’ in line at the Walmart in Dalucca City. Had ta come in ta town Fer supplies an ta git me sumpin ta wear ta Agnes Pritchard ‘s funeral. Walmart had a right smart black blouse with tiny pink pigs on it… sure did! I knowed ol’ Agnes wal be smilin down from heaven when she sees me. Her n me was always jokin about bein hitched ta pig farmers! Are you goin ta make it down Fer it? You knowed Agnes dint ya?
More when n ifin this line moves n I git home.
Well, faith, here I am botherin’ you again for your help, you darlin’ Colleen. There I was playin’ a respectable video game in one of my favorite arcades (John O’Sullivan’s recommendation) when Willie Watts, one of the lead leprechauns, sidled over to my game table. Well, darlin, seein’ Willie was no real surprise, don’t you know, but he seemed to alarm the others in the arcade. I guess his kelly-green suit with his red and green polka-dot tie stood out. So I says, “Willie, don’t you know that you’re scarin’ the other players?” With that, Kathleen, he pulled himself up to his two feet, and answers,”I’m wantin’ to know, Sean McCartey, where we go to be a’interviewin’ for CEO SC since we all want to be one of the workin’ elves.” Well, Kathleen, I jest stood there,dumb-like. Then, I told Willie I would find out and be a letin’ him know. Since you are the wise Colleen, Ms. Kathleen, what am I to say to ’em since I know SC would not have them after last year’s —-well, I’ll say it — tragedy.
Your close cousin,
Well, Francis, me boy.
I fear we’ll have a problem excludin’ Willie and his lot from the elf interviews next week. I believe Santa will want us to allow ’em into the process, and they’ll be vetted along the way. We’s got a few of the Leprechaun ilk workin’ up in the valley beyond the Pole with the reindeer… they’s got a way with four-leggers and fairy dust that no other elves have, and we give ’em credit for teachin’ the younguns about flyin’. So even though Willie’s not gonna make the cut, SC will want to take a look at
Willie’s kin and friends. I will be sure to fill the Big Man in on Willie’s shenanigans last year, but I’ll be discreet. So tell old Willie that the interviews are at Baile Átha Cliath at the Rovers Return. Look sharp at 6pm for the white haired big man wearin’ a bit o’ red round his neck. SC has to go incognito in the off-season or the poor dear ‘d never get a thing done!
Your dear Kathleen
My dear Sherlock,
I am having a most peculiar morning. I awoke to strange noises and determined that they were coming from the garage. I quickly dressed and as soon as I opened the door to the garage, silence. Ever since I was bitten by a bat back in the 60’s, my hearing has been on par with winged rodents. I thought I could hear the tiniest squeakiest voice coming from the opposite side of the garage… from the far side of our new car. I dashed over and fell to the floor. At first I thought it was all my imagination, but as I scoured the floor, my eyes caught the glint of something shiny and metallic. Ever since I accidentally ate an eagle for breakfast one morning back in the 60’s, I have had the vision of raptors. I picked up the object and found the smallest wrench you can picture. If a Barbie Doll had a wrench with her Miss Goodwrench accessories, this would be it. But now the visitors were as silent as church mice, and I heard no more. I laid down on the floor to look again, but the Prius is too low for me to fit my bulbous head under, and I saw nothing else. However, I could smell something. I recognized it as teriyaki chicken! Ever since I had a run – in with a German Shepherd back in the 60’s, I can sniff like a police dog. So those are the clues, Sherlock. Tiny voices, a very small wrench and teriyaki chicken. I call upon you to employ your superior sleuthing skills and arrive at a conclusion. If you need any additional information, do not hesitate to ask.
My dear Ernest,
If only I were in your area and could visit this strange happening in your garage. However, Watson and I are busily engaged in a high-priority case here in Calcutta. So, if you will trust my deductive powers, I shall endeavor to answer this strange problem. Since these tiny noises, together with the smell of teriyaki chicken, are emanating under your new car, a Prius, I strongly suspect the noises are from wee inhabitants who have landed from Star MXPTX, commonly known as the Prius Planet. They so enjoy picnics and their teriyaki chicken. They, being harmless, will leave soon (if they haven’t already gone). This is their way of endorsing your new, metallic-red Prius. Incidentally, Halpern, the head mechanic, was undoubtedly checking to see that this new car is road-worthy, hence, the tiny wrench.
Your servant, Sherlock