Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Say a prayer for our postman. That poor beleaguered soul in a blue uniform. After 2 years he still is not quite sure what to make of the residents of #15. That shop, tucked away in the back of a huge old industrial building, every time he brings us a parcel, some package from Asia or a certified letter from Bulgaria, he looks around the abbey with a bewildered gaze. These days, when we are not piling him up with outgoing boxes he is also bringing us care packages from our wonderful customers.

Yes, the cookies have begun to arrive in earnest.

Now, I really should not complain. I know several kink entrepreneurs who would kill to have customers, let alone loyal, repeat customers who like you enough to send you tins of homemade cookies at Christmas. The thing is, at the risk of sounding so totally vain that I can’t believe I’m even typing this; I can finally fit into my 33-inch waist jeans. While I can resist most temptations, the siren’s call of fresh baked goods is my Achilles heel. Put a cup of fresh coffee in my hands and I’m powerless to resist the pull of a good baked goodie.

There I said it. I have a baked goods addiction.

Thing is, I’m always so touched that folks would go to the trouble to do something so nice as to actually send us goodies. That kind of generosity is rare and I’m quite blown away by it.

So, in lieu of baked goods what is a good way to wish Monk a happy holiday and generally say thank you? Good question.

Know what I really, really need this holiday? Time with my massage therapist.

This woman has amazing, magical powers. Remember the knuckle I messed up getting ready for Black Rose? She spent 30 minutes working on it last Saturday, thirty minutes working on a single finger and it now feels so much better-A far cry from last week when I could barely make a fist with out wincing.

This year, when folks ask me what I want for Christmas, I tell them with out pause, time with Leilani. So to those of you who are thinking about boxing up some goodies and sending them along to the Abbey, save your postage. Give those yummy cookies to your postman, I’m sure they would love them. Rather, send a buck or two to the “Keep Monk’s Hands Happy” fund and know that it will be the most welcome gift of the year.

My hands, my waist line and my postman thanks you.