The Gnome Has It.

For years I use to keep people's addresses in random notebooks or, worse, scraps of paper that I would tuck into notebooks. Or worse yet, I would shove old envelopes into a shoe box and when I would need an address I would shuffle through it hoping that the person sent me something first. This is not conducive to a Life of Elegant Leisure. You can't expect to keep up your correspondence with the aid of a shoebox. It's vulgar, is what it is.

So I bought an address book - a cute pink one! - and it has been vary handy for several years now.

Or it was handy up until a few months ago when it vanished. I say vanished because that is the only plausible explanation. It was spirited away by gnomes or something. Because I don't generally lose things. I have a pretty good grasp of where everything is. I'm not the most organized gal but I like it when things have assigned places. Brooches go in the center drawer of my jewelry box. Ribbon is in the top right drawer of my crafting desk. Let's say I want my Aragorn bookmark that Rac sent to me years ago, I know that it's on the lower shelf of the book cupboard, because that's where bookmarks go. So you can imagine my dismay when I wrote a note to someone a while ago and went to grab my address book from the lower cubby on my desk - the place where it belongs, right next to my dictionary - and it wasn't there. I checked in all the other cubbies and drawers, not there. I checked under the pile of filing I have to do, not there. I checked on the floor around my desk, in the box under the desk, under my bed, in the living room, amongst the shoes in my closet, all around the dining room table. Anywhere an address book could possibly be I looked and came up empty handed. It's a real mystery, my friends.

It's been missing for a couple of months now and I'm ashamed to say that I'm ridiculously stubborn about these sorts of things. I know that as much as I want to believe that it was spirited away by gnomes it wasn't and that it has to be around somewhere and I don't want to buy a new address book and go through the work of getting every one's address and filling them all in again because I know that as soon as I do it will magically appear.

Except that I need addresses. Christmas is coming and I have cards to send out. And several birthdays have come and gone and I have signed and sealed cards that are embarrassingly late now.

So, can you be a pal and email me your address? racheknecht at gmail dot com. You don't have to if you don't want to. I mean, maybe we're not friends and you feel weird sending it to me. Really, how do you know I won't send you bad poetry written in highlighter on strips of toilet paper every week? You don't know. And the truth is, I actually have sent bad poetry written in highlighter on a strip of toilet paper to someone. So you're probably wise in not passing on that info to me. But if we are friends and you think that I may need your address for such things as thank you notes or birthday cards or invitations to lavish galas I occasionally throw then you know what to do. And while your at it send me your birthday and phone number because I keep that stuff in there too.

And if you get an invitation to a lavish gala thrown by a gnome, tell him I want my cute pink address book back.

A letter-writing opportunity from me to you

This article made me want to spit. And, given my extreme distaste of spitting, you can see just how angry that is.

Maybe it's just me but I feel that if we send a guy off to war and he comes back injured he should be set for life. All of his medical bills paid for, his mortgage paid off, his kids get to go to college for free, and his wife gets pedicures for life. He should certainly not have to worry about losing his job or his home because he was too busy learning how to walk with prosthetic legs.


On Veteran's Day I watched part of a show that surprised injured veterans from Iraq with home furnishings. I only watched part of it because I was a wreck after the very first one (Amanda, it was worse than the St. Jude commercials.) This guy came back from Iraq after he got his heel shot off. He lost it when his unit was being shot at and his friend was hit so to save him he laid down on top of him, without any cover for himself. And he came back to nothing. He was living in military housing with a wife and a new born and almost zero furniture. So they surprised him with some. Including stuff for his porch. And he broke down when he saw the porch. Just the porch! He hadn't even seen the two flat screen TVs they got him. And I thought, if a guy is so broken up over two lawn chairs and a table then we really need to be doing something more to make their lives easier.

So, if you're feeling the same way and would like to help out here's a link to Operation Homefront, the organization that is mentioned in the article. It seems like a pretty good group, and they have a lot of different ways to help, from volunteering to donating items or money to putting together care packages. Don't you think it would be so much fun to volunteer? We could all wear matching t-shirts! But I'm also going to suggest writing to your federal and state representatives and asking them to boost the existing programs and support any bills that would help out veterans and their families. Just type in your zip code in the box to the right on the linked page and a list will come up with all of their names and you can write one letter and send it to all of them. Easy! And fun. And they usually write back which kind of makes you feel special - like you're bff with powerful people and maybe they'll name a city street after you.

I've got music

A while ago I asked for book recommendations and I was THRILLED with the response. You all really came through for me - it has been a great year of reading - and I owe you a stick of gum and a firm handshake. But now I need your help again. This time with music because I find that I'm stuck in a rut. I haven't purchased any new music in ages and I miss it. I have a bunch of gift cards (Borders, Amazon, iTunes) that I'm eager to spend and I've decided to use them all on music. Why not books? That's a story for a later date.

So your assignment (And this is for everyone. And I really do mean everyone. Including lurkers. I'm counting on you. Yes, you! Do not be afraid. We're friends. Or friends of friends.) leave a comment with the name of an album you think I would like. Or even an album that you like and you think I should give a listen to. My tastes are broad and there's a good chance I'll like it - as long as it's not Garth Brooks. I have standards. And if you're feeling like an AP blog commenter, tell me why you like it. I'm genuinely curious.