Cards, Cards, Cards

Ah, what could be more reminiscent of the traditional sending of Christmas cards than….writer’s cramp? Somehow the names on our card list have multiplied like bunnies until we’re nearing the 200 mark (186, I think), and being the old fogy-types we’re not yet doing machine-printed address labeling. That means hours of flicking through the old rolodex cards (do you ancients remember those?) and hand writing addresses on all those envelopes. Somewhere in the middle of the M’s my penmanship goes out the window and names turn into something resembling doctor signatures, but oh well.

I’m not complaining. Nope, not even a little bit. I’m grateful we have these people in our lives representing our past, present, and future - people who enlarge us and provide context for our ongoing journeys.

It seems interesting that when Fritz and I took the Myers-Briggs personality tests last summer we both scored more toward introversion than extroversion. And yet in our own unique ways we’re sold out to relationships as a high priority (even though we express this in diametrically different ways). Guess that proves you don’t have to be a classic extrovert stuck to magnetic people 24/7 to have hand cramps this time of year.

I just lubed up my hands with some yummy Burt’s Bees moisturizing cream (no no, I don’t eat it, but it DOES smell and feel yummy) before approaching round #2, and am ready to tackle the N’s. Only thing is, my hands are too greasy to hold the pen.