When I opened my mailbox and found a check from Chicken Soup for the Tea Lover’s Soul, I squealed, “Wheee, wheee, wheee,” all the way home. Not that I look anything at all like a little piggy, but I may have sounded a lot like Petunia today.

It’s just that the Fortune-O-Meter hasn’t budged in awhile. So a little celebratory “wheeeeing” seemed in order.

But maybe you’d like to hear more about Chicken Soup for the Tea Lover’s Soul? I’m probably the teensiest bit partial, but I think it’s Tea-rrific…(Yeah, that was bad. Really bad. It’ll probably get worse.)

My story is a long-ago memory of my mother-in-law, a seriously fine Southern cook who never served a meal without her big pitcher of sweet tea on the table. I, on the other hand, was just the opposite: an open-the-can cook who loved her unsweetened tea. We had little in common back then, mom-in-law and me, but the beneficent Mr. Hall, who one day let it slip that his new wife did not like sweet tea. Oh, the ignominy of it all!

Until wonders of wonders, a big pitcher of unsweetened tea appeared one Saturday noon on the dinner table. That’s the moment I knew I was truly one of the family.

These days, my mother-in-law lives a few blocks down the road in an assisted living facility. By now, she’s given away most of her belongings. But not the pitcher. That’s full of unsweetened tea, sitting on my kitchen table, reminding me of family.

When I saw the little, itty-bitty box in the mail today, I had no idea what was inside. That’s the great thing about getting older…I’m constantly surprised!

Anyway, it was my blog cards!

Sure, I could just tell friends and family about the blog. But here’s the thing. Nobody remembers details like a web address. Even if most of it is your own name. (Maybe that’s just my friends and family…) Still, then you have to look around for a pen and end up using your lipstick to write on the back of a takeout menu you really, really needed for supper tonight.

For eight bucks and change, not to mention the brilliant fun of playing with designs and such, I’ve got these great cards with my blog info. Actually, I have cards with my name and picture, too, since I read somewhere that when one attends a writer’s conference, one should have a card with photo, in order to promote oneself in a memorable manner. And friends, I am all about the promotion. Especially when it comes so, how shall I put it? Well, cheap.

Now all the terribly important people I hobnob with on my way to Fame and Fortune can find me, one way or another.

Assuming they don’t lose my card(s).