September 22, 2004 - From Ms. Mary to AS:
Patriot Bear SIR sends greetings to Gentle Ben from himself and the stuffed ones.
Thank you so much for the call on my birthday. It was gooooood to hear your voice.
The celebration actually started on Saturday (11th) at the post office. The first of the birthday cards was in my PO box . . . and there was a key . . . a key to one of the lockboxes where the mail sorters put things that are too big to fit in a personal mailbox. I love mail. I love packages. I hurried to the lockbox and inserted my key. I peered inside. A box!! I pulled it out . . . lightweight . . . strange-looking . . . yet I still assumed it was the box of business papers I had been expecting to get from Kathy in New York. I got in line for the postal counter because I had two packages to send off. Curiosity started killing this old cat. I still hadn't fully registered the difference between this box and the one I had been expecting . . . I decided to open the box and take a look at the papers while I waited for my turn at the counter. I slit the tape. I lifted up the flaps. I saw FUR!!! Brown fur! Oh, my goodness gracious sakes alive. It's a bear! I smiled . . . and I tried to hold back a giggle. People were watching. I took a deep breath, held up my new bear, and said, "It's my birthday next week." So everybody started smiling and looking at Mr. Smoky and saying what a cute little fellow he is.
If you have never heard of Vermont teddy bears, go to their web site and check them out. They are very special bears. This one is a Birthday Suit bear. The bear was shipped directly from the factory to save time and get him here before he smothered in the box . . . even though there are two airholes in the sides of the box . . . and they are clearly marked "air holes" so no one will accidentally cover them with tape. On the bottom of the box is a message: "If you can read this, then either you're under this box, or the box is upside down and the Bear inside is getting a headache!"
I put my mail and junk in the box and carried Mr. Smoky in my arms. It was a hot day here in Long Beach, so when we got home, I opened the velcro on his front side and helped him out of his fur suit. The bare bear is just a fuzzy light brown . . . and . . . and . . . and . . . HE HAS A NAVEL. Oh, my goodness, you should have seen the eyes popping on the rest of the stuffed family up there on top of the bookshelf! Those other stuffed ones have never seen one of their kind with a navel before. TaraBear and KatieBear couldn't hold back a giggle or two. And Just Ducky said -- not unexpectedly -- "THAT is juuuust ducky, juuuust ducky." The others pointed and then checked their own tummies for some sort of evidence of an indentation. Even Patriot Bear SIR was nonplussed for a moment -- not so much that he checked his own tummy (or anyone else's) or wavered in his salute for even a fraction of a second -- and then he did his "HARRUMPH!" and everyone suddenly remembered his/her manners and smiled at Mr. Smoky and made him welcome.
But you know what . . . every morning when I turn the lights on, every stuffed creature on top of the bookshelf sneaks a peek at his/her tummy just to see if a navel has developed overnight now that they have a pattern in front of them. [So far, no new navels.]
Okay. Where was I? Oh, yes. The birthday celebration.
Wednesday morning (15th) started with a birthday call from Carolyn. Then I stopped at the post office and picked up a few snailmail birthday cards. (No boxes. No more bears.)
Give Gentle Ben a couple of hugs from California.