Quite possibly, the most exhilarating part of my work day is when I make that journey from the studio to the post office.  I love visiting the PO clerks, if I make it before closing time; if not, I’m a WIZ at the Automated Postal Center.

It was the other day when I recognized, in the moment, just how much the post office means to me.  First of all, I’ve never had a bad experience with a Postperson.  In fact, beyond getting my important packages to their even more important destinations, some of the postpeople actually make an effort (it seems) to liven up my day.  With the characters waiting behind their respective PO windows, my wait has never been boring.

The counter itself is like a gateway to postal heaven---the clerks, its angels.  My favorites are the ones that you know have been there forever, like the sprightly yet cynical short fiery redhaired woman with academic glasses.  She could easily be viewed as the wiser, more intimidating person on the crew---she means business.  In reality, she’s the goofiest and most playful of them all, you just have to give her a chance.  Sometimes when I’m waiting in line, I cross my fingers that the heavens will open up and line it up perfectly so she’ll be my clerk.  With her wild red hair, her intense eyes, and rubber chicken bright yellow earrings (and crazy hat wearing near the holidays), I know I’m in for a wild checkout ride.  Most of all, she’s kind and it seems as if she truly enjoys her job.  I think she gets how important she and the whole post-office experience is to me. …I can see it in her smile when I’m walking away.

And then there’s that journey down the long post office hall when the pride sets in.  After passing my things off to the post office Angels, I feel like I’ve earned my little spot in post office heaven.  They know how hard I worked and they’re passing the product on to the next place.  They’ve guaranteed to take care of it from there on out---and they always do.


In that journey down the crisp post office hall, sometimes my feet  (depending on the type of shoes I wear), punctuate and trumpet my recent shipping victory...I feel as if the world has been lifted from my shoulders, every time.  Sometimes it’s as if I’ve been holding my breath and I can finally breathe again.

Insert:  Man, I love Portland!  I’m riding the bus right now and out of the North side windows, I see a boyish person (kinda nerdy looking….but cool) just come out of the coffee shop with an iced drink and proceed to get on his unicycle to go wherever he’s going.  (note: second time in one week that I’ve seen people traveling by one wheel...love it.)Check out this cute Thank You card from a shop I just discovered on Etsy: Swieky Siggies...love it!

To great people, great post office experiences and great weekends!  Cheers!!

***Song of the Moment: The New Post Office, by Denis Cahill and Martin Hayes***

4 thoughts on Dear Mr. Postman.


what a sweet post! i visit the post office almost daily, and i wish i felt the same. perhaps because i visit daily with my online store deliveries with just 10-15 minutes to spare before i have to get to work and open my boutique, i get impatient waiting. however, my postman that delivers to my store is just great – always funny and always asks how i’m doing. for that, i am grateful!

October 05 2016 at 09:10 PM


LOVE this Blog! Pictures are Super Cool too – haha Loving the East Sioux Falls Post Office. (Wow, how many people can you fit in there? Imagine going in with a GIANT package?! i so want to!)

Want a Post Office Story?

Years ago, i worked at a local jewellers called, ‘Dallas’ – (my name is Debbie, so put the 2 together+Tadaa! Porntastic;)
So anyway, enough about my old days in porn (*cough)
i used to take peoples beloved jewellery that needed repaired, +carry that old looking package – was always the same, a little box, brown paper, +for a while, my old boss even used string :) – down to the local post office.
Now, i’d stand in line – there was always a line, looking at who was working…

There was a woman named Pat, a great name for someone you want to serve you, i don’t know why, but i like it, +she was an old school friend of mines Mother, so get her, i get to talk old friend talk…
Joy, shorter than me, i like shorter than me, it’s rare:) Old school, wicked laugh, kind you can tell she smoked since birth…
Dougie, the owner, tall, good lookin’ old-er man, a laugh, +always happy to see me, likewise…he specifically would make comment when sending my own things, my use of tape that week, or the sometimes obscure names i’d give my friends in the title…such as, ‘Neily-Puddin’

+then there was Dougies wife, Katrina. Dear God!
She seemed to be a person who was always in a foul mood, +would like to take it out on your need to buy stamps, or simply, existing on Earth.

So, you know what’s coming right? i’d stand there, +with the choice of 3 colourful characters, i would will the poor person who was stuck with Evil Katrina to remain there…
as selfish as that was, it became a good gauge on what my day was going to be like.
If i get Katrina, don’t expect it to be that great.
Unfortunately…i got her a lot.

ONE time, she cracked a smile, +i burst out laughing, scaring clearly that smile right back in.
What did Dougie see in her?
Oh is such the way, good guy with the wrong woman…

Your Blogs Betsy are as Awesomely flowed together as your ear wires – you know how i feel about them;)
Thankyou for my Sunday Morning story…i’m off to be bitter as Katrina the Evil Postal Worker, +make some lemonlime juice:)


October 05 2016 at 09:10 PM

green ink:

What a gorgeous post – and a lovely reminder to take pleasure in everyday things. And yay for unicycles. I have not yet seen one in London.

October 05 2016 at 09:10 PM


This entry is amazing…I am sending it to the postal people in our world!
They are going to love it!
You never fail to amaze me in the details you find in the everyday!

October 05 2016 at 09:10 PM

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