Whiskey in the mail

I am compelled to post this right now.  Some times words need to just flow from the meaning they were inspired from, with no planning and no rephrasing.  A morning of mixed joys left me walking up from the main road in town, my truck solemnly disabled against a snowbank below.  I clutched a package and small stack of mail under my arm against the below zero wind chill thrashing my body.  Well, at least the Red Ranger wasn't stuck blocking the narrow road on the other side of town (that scenario nearly unfolded).

I entered the cabin to a tail wagging dog and warmth.  Excited to see me even though it had only been a few minutes, her response made me smile.  After de-layering I started with the letters.  Two Christmas cards, one of which was from a couple of good friends from West Yellowstone.  I haven't talked with them since early this past summer.  While we don't see or talk often, when we do it is rooted in a sincere friendship from a time not long after high school when we chose who to surround ourselves with.  It was a great reunion, if by means of a holiday greeting card.

If you follow this blog or read any of the stories I write for publication, you may remember a few weeks ago I received some beer from a friend in Seattle in the mail.  This time, opening a box from my friend Greggy P. I found a favorite Polaroid taken in Duluth, MN some time ago. Underneath was a flask.  Filled.  

We have long drank Jameson together, from the early days of Trampled By Turtles shows when the guys would pass a bottle around in between playing.  Most recently we shared a bottle while soaking in hot springs on the Olympic Peninsula.  Mind willing, I will forever remember our times with Jamie being passed.  

And now, at just after noon on a cold but sunny Monday I raise this flask given to me in solute to Greg and Erin currently back in MN, to Josh and Jamie in West, and to Dave and Mona in WBL.  Thank you for thinking of me and thank you for your friendship.  It means so much to me.  Cheers.