My good friend Jen turned 40 a couple of months ago. I wanted to give her something special, but what? Jen knits and crochets beautiful things for money and for fun, so I didn’t feel the need to crochet her something. She and her husband already own several dottery mugs and things I’ve painted for them over the years. They live across the country from me, and they’re moving next summer so Jen has been in the process of paring down her family’s belongings for a while. I wanted to send something that she would really enjoy, something that wouldn’t be just one more thing she’d be annoyed to pack next summer.

I was pondering my options when I remembered the photo messages I used to send to far-away friends when I was a kid. My mom would take photos of me holding up a series of signs, each sign with a word or phrase on it. Put together, all the photos would make a complete message. I used to really have fun with it, dressing in different crazy outfits and posing in silly places. I’d send the photos one at a time over the course of a couple of weeks.

And then I had my brilliant idea. I would send Jen 40 pieces of mail for her birthday! Who doesn’t love getting mail? Who doesn’t feel that little thrill when they see an envelope in the mailbox that’s not a bill or a mailer advertising the new carpet-cleaning company? I could send postcards, letters, even the occasional small care package. It wouldn’t break the bank since stamps are relatively cheap, and I already own tons of rarely-used stationery. I would be extending the birthday joy for more than a month—almost two months, as it turned out. And Jen wouldn’t have a fragile or unwieldy new thing to pack (or to feel guilty about getting rid of). Win-win-win!

I didn’t tell Jen what I was doing. I just started sending her numbered mail. It only took her about three days to figure it out. She sent me an email (subject: “Stinker!”) that read:

You’ve been up to something, haven’t you?…It all started to make sense today as my mail started piling up. It was like the ending of an M. Night Shyamalan movie.

I think she meant one of the good M. Night Shyamalan movies. At least, I hope she did.

I sent homemade cookies.

Annalie helped out with a couple of drawings and a bookmark.

I sent a few postcards.

Well, lots of postcards, actually.

Lots and lots of postcards.

I helped Jen face her fear of glitter, because I’m a good friend like that.

I sent her a copy of the soundtrack to Scrubs: My Musical, so that the next time she’s stuck in traffic on the 805 with me and Sonja for four hours and we insist on singing “Everything Comes Down to Poo,” she’ll be able to sing along.

A dime bag of Canadian Smarties. (Inside joke. I told Jen I would send her a box of the Smarties that Jen Wilson had sent me, and Jen said she didn’t need a whole box, that I should just send her a little bag. I said I’d send her a dime bag. It…isn’t really that funny, I guess. But it was hilarious to us.)

A Nebraska care package, when I was visiting Omaha.

A little bag of jelly beans. This is one of those 13-ounces-or-less things, where I just stuck an address label and postage right on the package and dropped it in the mail.

We mailed a little bit of autumn.

I slowed down a lot towards the end. Several days went by between each of the last three or four pieces of mail I sent. I was a little sad it was coming to an end. I had a lot of fun with this project, even more fun than I expected. I think I’ll have to do something like this again sometime.

Finally, six weeks after Jen’s actual birthday, I was sending #40. And what else could possibly be good enough for the final piece of birthday mail except some really, really ridiculously good apricot cookies?

Happy birthday, Jen!

All the mail I sent is in the Flickr photoset 40 pieces of mail.

Annalie drew these teeny portraits of our family on something, and I knew immediately I would use them for return-address labels on our Christmas cards. She draws stuff like this all the time that surprises and delights me. It’s fairly awesome.

You know what else is fairly awesome? You guys are. Thank you for sticking with me and continuing to read through the past year of baby-induced blog neglect; supporting me and saying kind things when I am frustrated or troubled; cheering me up with your funny stories when I need to laugh; and just generally being some of the nicest people on the internets. I wish each and every one of you a happy, healthy new year full of good things. May 2012 be the year you learn to tango, go on your dream vacation, see your kids succeed wildly, eat more vegetables, own your beauty, read life-changing books, find a new favorite drink, or whatever it is you think about when you wish upon a star.

View large.

p.s. New-old banner, by Brenda as always.

I realized, after I did that last post about the newly-listed items in my Etsy shop (several of which have already been purchased, thank you very much!), that I have not blogged about pottery I’ve painted for a long time. The last post I could find that had more than a fleeting mention of dottery in it was way back in April! So let me catch you up, if you’re interested.

The little blue ‘be happy’ bowl up there is one that I painted for no particular reason or recipient. I ended up sending it to Leah as an apology for taking so long to send her my half of our flip-flop swap.

I painted this bowl for my friend Laura, with a slightly inaccurate Big Bang Theory quote on it. I don’t have a picture of it fired because Laura picked it up from the pottery shop when it was done.

The things I do for my friends. Kassie was inspired to ask me to paint this for her after reading about the “first: kindness; then: F*** AUTHORITY” mug I painted for Elaine. And because I love her, I did it. I’ll even admit it was kinda fun. But I don’t plan on painting another one. This was a limited edition mug. I don’t have a picture of this one fired either. (You can read Kassie’s hilarious account of watching me paint it here.)

She looks so innocent, doesn’t she? Not like a person who would ever ask a friend to paint a lovely dottery mug with her five favorite curse words on it.

I painted this geek dottery mug as a gift for the lovely Bex. It has two Firefly/Serenity quotes on it: “a little whimsical in the brainpan,” said by Mal in reference to the mentally-unstable River Tam; and, “Also, I can kill you with my brain,” a line said by a very calm River to a very spooked Jayne. The moral here is, never assume that just because someone’s whimsical that she is not also deadly when the situation calls for it.

I had a lot of fun painting this mug, particularly the little whimsical bits.

These annoying smudges are not fun, however. I took photos of this mug with my phone before it was fired, so I know these smudges weren’t there when I finished painting it. That means someone at the pottery studio wasn’t handling my pieces carefully. I’ve had this happen to at least three or four pieces I’ve painted at that studio. Rather disappointing because it’s only 10 minutes from my house.

Brenda had asked me to paint her a round dottery mug a while back, when her cool blue coral mug broke and she missed having a round mug. When I was in California and Brenda had the summer fiesta in our honor, she said that she needed to remember how much fun it is for her when she throws parties. So I painted her this mug as a reminder to be festive.

A little ‘be happy’ dottery vase I painted for Madge, at her request.

This cunning mug was a custom order for my Etsy shop, a dotty mug with Jayne Cobb’s hat on the front and a Firefly quote on the back. I was a bit nervous about painting the hat, but I think it turned out pretty well.

“Dear Diary, Today I was pompous and my sister was crazy…it was the best day ever.”

Shiny.

Annalie painted this Azurill plate the same day that I painted Katie’s NO WHINING sign. She pored over her Pokemon book, and picked the cutest one she thought she could paint. This was almost a disaster because she accidentally spilled a big blotch of black paint on the right ear and was very upset. I convinced her to leave the plate overnight and let it dry, and we’d come back the next day to fix it. We scraped the mistake off, and fixed the blue and pink, and now you can’t even tell the black blotch was there.

Remember those ‘internet friends FTW!’ mugs that Rainbow and I painted while I was in Omaha? Bad news.

It got broken during shipping. I was fairly bummed about this. I really liked those colors, and now Rainbow’s mug will be lonely.

I couldn’t even superglue it together and use it to hold pens, because there was a big ol’ U-shaped crack all across one side. Of all the mugs and bowls and things I’ve shipped, this is the first one I’m aware of that has broken. So it’s possible there was some flaw in the bisque that made it more prone to breaking.

At least I still have the memories. And an excuse to drag Rainbow to paint pottery with me again next time I’m in Omaha.

I actually got to paint pottery twice when we were in Omaha. The second time, I went with my mom, my girls, and Aurora. We did a handprint plate for my my mom with all three of her granddaughters’ handprints on it.

My mom wasn’t planning for Aurora to paint anything, but when she saw Annalie gathering paint and brushes, she said, “I paint? I paint too?” I helped her pick a plate and paint colors, and she painted the heck out of that plate.

Elliora didn’t paint. She hung out in the stroller, played with my mom’s keys.

She had her first lollipop, which she kept rubbing on her hair, then putting back in her mouth with an “Mmmmm!” Crazy baby.

Annalie fingerpainted this butter dish for my parents. I wrote the word ‘Butter’ on it just in case they couldn’t remember what they were supposed to use it for. (This is a photo of it unfired; my mom didn’t get to pick it up till after we left.)

Annalie also painted this plate for me, using my favorite colors. Isn’t she sweet?

Elliora did paint this plate, sort of. I helped her put handprints all over it one day when we were at our favorite pottery studio in Maryland. I think it turned out kinda cute, no?

I think it’s pretty clear that I do what I love, or this post wouldn’t have been nearly this long.