Oh, Manchester, So Much To Answer For

It rained pretty much all day yesterday, and all night as well. Thanks to a front moving through, our temps rose overnight, by a good 15 degrees. So this morning, when I stumble out onto the deck circa 7am, it's 54 degrees and humid. Absolutely lovely, actually (the wind had largely died down, too). I noted how amazing the air smelled, thick with the scent of pine trees and wet earth. Which, as is wont to be the case, got me thinking about church camp. Which got me thinking about how every year, from 5th grade through my junior year of high school, after dropping me (or any of my sisters, for that matter) off at whatever camp I was attending for a week that summer, my Mom would always stop at the nearest post office and drop a postcard in the mail, so that I'd have mail the very next day. It was usually something along the lines of "Hope you're having fun and making friends - have a good week - will see you Saturday - love, Mom." Which, as it would happen, got me thinking of this little ditty which Mom occasionally sang:

I'm-a gonna wrap myself in paper
I'm-a gonna dot myself with glue
Stick some stamps on the top of my head
I'm-a gonna mail myself to you

My mind works in some very moebius-strip-like mysterious ways at times...