Every week, I work hard to write witty posts for you people and I hit 'send' and I'm happy. Then you open the email and write me back. Or you post a comment on the blog. Or on Facebook or Instagram. And let me tell you, you're a bunch of memoir-reading, NPR-listening, SNL-watching, kombucha-sipping smarty pants. This is my teasing way of saying that your comments are wonderful! You seem to be a very well-rounded crowd. Interesting. Funny. Worldly. 

For example, the reader who bought the tumblers in the photo above, wrote last week to tell me about her family's traditions:

Our clan (now 50+ beings) has gathered for 6 generations of summer cocktails. In the 60’s/70’s each family was given a set of numbered rock glasses in different colors (talk about strategic drinking). There’s even a running list of all the names our family calls drinks — now trending at 24. 

Whiskey with the occasional ice cube and splash of lake water for my parents.

Gin and tonics on a humid summer’s eve.

My grandmother, an elegant women with exquisite taste (although I did catch her filling top shelf bottles with bottom shelf booze) said she was allergic to gin. So when the martunis (as my dad called them) were flowing, she’d request her signature drink -- a self-made concoction that covered all the bases. A vodka martini with a whisper of vermouth and a splash of gin for flavor.  She called it the “Mystique."

Ironically (or perhaps not based on my family history), I rarely drink. 

In response to last week's post about people confessing things to me, a reader who is also a librarian wrote this:

Years ago in Library School we read an article about how people feel free to confide to those in certain occupations, specifically hairdressers, librarians, and bartenders. It's probably not surprising that you've been 2 out of 3 of those.

In response to my bathroom re-do, a reader shared this little tidbit:

That wallpaper is so charming; I could look at the almost-kissing peacocks all day. I might take a long time to powder my nose with such interesting wallpaper.

I adore mice, but I'm not crazy about having them in my house because I read about all the germs they carry. Apparently rats are clean and mice are dirty. You're welcome. 

In response to the post about the man licking jewelry, this reader wrote:

Lol licking, not so much, but I can pick something up and tell you if it is vintage or antique. However I do smell items to tell if they are leather, stored in mothballs, soiled.....I will say that when I find something I absolutely love I do have a tendency to hug and kiss it. If it's really over the top I may even set it next to me on the sofa as Sarah Jessica Parker would a new pair of shoes. 

In response to the post about a new profile pic, my dear mother wrote this: 

I never felt your neck was short (like your Dad's) until reading this today. When I mentioned it to your Dad he responded "We're not giraffes!"

Anyway, it's an electronic relationship, what we have, but it is legit and I love you. You're not passive. You give back. Your comments add insight and flavor. I make you laugh. Then you make me laugh. A two-way street.

Photo by Renn Kuhnen.

New at Finder Not Keeper: an elephant never forgets. Click on the photo for shopping information. 

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(Okay, that line was written by my friend Peg. I stole it from her. Thanks Peg.)

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