Elf-ing has its privileges

At my age, birthday fuss sometimes makes me cringe.  Really great presents do not, which is why I want to share a few that I’ve received.


First, a friend found me these salt and pepper shakers



who have been welcomed into my growing elf family in spite of the fact that they are creepy and have no bodies.




Another friend who watched me struggle with an broken tape dispenser (broken doesn’t quite cover the condition), gave me this:




Poem-elfing will be a breeze with my new hand-band.  Reminds me of Wonder Woman cuffs.  In fact, with a cape and mask, Poem Elf could be a super-hero.  Saving the world, one poem at a time.


Finally, I just received a set of hand-made postcards in the mail today from my daughter.  I’ll only show a few.  She’s used poems from past Poem Elf posts and superimposed them on photographs of the poet.



I love how Frank Stanford is covered by all the blue yodels.




Neruda looks like Hitchcock and Rexroth like Barney Miller.  I love them!


She also made a postcard of an old picture of her parents



and put this on the back:



Thank you, thoughtful friends!

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