a day without brown

Brown isn't doing it for me today. How will I get through the day without a UPS delivery? Perhaps the kitchen frenzy will keep me sufficiently distracted.

I am almost done with Christmas shopping, in an effort to not re-live the panic of two years ago, so the lovely brown truck has been visiting regularly. Let's just say I know my UPS guy is having varicose vein surgery, such are the in-depth conversations we have while I sign my name for him. He notices how big Eleanor is getting too. And thinks it's pretty hysterical that the diapers come from Amazon.com.

I've had great UPS guys before. When I was living in Massachusetts in the early 1990s my UPS man delivered to the whole (very small) town. He knew where I lived and where I worked, and always delivered my packages to the office. He brought only the small packages in to my building though. If a box was even a little big he would come get me and then load it into my car. And he was downright cheerful every.single.day. So is the guy who delivers to my neighborhood now, even with the varicose veins.

(At least one loyal reader is now horribly disappointed that the "brown" reference wasn't for her delightful Sussex spaniels. Sorry JT. Give those brown dogs a hug for me.)