Dear Jules Verne,

How can your characters be 35 leagues below the surface of the earth and have 1,500 leagues to go until they reach the center, when the earth itself has only a 1,150 league radius?

(35 + 1,500 > 1,150)

Sometimes when I think too much about your books, I'm reminded of the person who once said that science fiction is often not very good fiction, and usually rather crummy science. I could say you were writing two centuries ago and could be forgiven the inaccurate data, but come on, Jules. Eratosthenes was a few hundred centuries before you, and even he wasn't that far off.

Still, your books do give us a lot to think about regarding the way we approach, trust, and depend on science even today. For that, you deserve to remain on the shelves and reading lists for years to come . . . not to mention the silver screen.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Toes,

I get it. We're happy. And I know that you've wiggled whenever I'm happy since the summer I was born. Still. Today's joyful toe-wiggling is getting a little fidgety.

Okay, fine, you're right. I don't mind at all. When the first news I have in the morning is about a dear friend's engagement (and subsequent welcome request to be in her wedding too!), and the sun is shining and the air cool, and the sewing machine I bought second-hand over the weekend works, and I reach the half-way point in the project I'm writing, and ... well ... this day happens ... the most appropriate thing in the world is for my toes to wiggle out of control.

So wiggle away, dear ones. Wiggle away.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Kids Who Live Downstairs,

Thanks for recruiting me into your water battle this afternoon. I confess: I had fully intended to plant my geraniums on the balcony and go inside for a nap, but combining my watering can with your battle against your dad (a.k.a. my landlord) was something akin to brilliance.

Of course, I do have reservations. Aiming a water gun at my landlord seems, shall we say, counterintuitive. He seemed okay with it, though. At least, I think that's what the dousing I got meant.

Now, though, I'm really tired, but the nap is much more earned, at least.

May we have many more of these in the summer days ahead!

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Eleven Years of Driving-a-Car Habits,

I have driven a car three times since January, getting around instead by public bus and personal bike. It's my bike especially that confuses me sometimes in regards to your long-standing habits ingrained into my head. For example, when I'm getting ready to leave a place, why do I still look for my car keys? When I'm seated on the bike saddle, why do I still look for my seatbelt?

Next thing you know, I'll start looking for my helmet and kickstand whenever I drive a car.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Sweet Potatoes,

How is it possible that I ever thought you were disgusting? Your rich, earthy taste straight out of the oven, the ease with which your skin peels off the vibrant orange center ... with a touch of salt and pepper, you're amazing, but you don't even need that. You're perfect just the way you are.

Maybe that's why I used to think you were awful; I had only ever tasted you dolled up and coiffed until you didn't resemble yourself at all. Add marshmallows or breadcrumbs and you're no longer the root vegetable that I know and love. I met you in disguise.

You're sort of like salmon: fresh salmon, slightly baked or grilled, with just the lightest sprinkling of lemon. Nature did most of the work getting you to be tasty. We just have to add some heat.

Excuse me. I have a plate of sweet potato sitting beside me that begs me to return.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Email Inbox,

I imagine that going from 115 emails to 48 in a week would feel, for you, almost like it would feel for me to go from 115 to 48 pounds. Do you feel lighter now? Carefree? Impatient for me to reply to or act on the remaining 48 emails?

Don't worry. I won't rest on my laurels just yet. But you're welcome for finally paying more attention to you these days.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Wind,

If I had wanted to pedal and pedal and pedal without getting anywhere, I would have bought a stationary exercise bike.

(Oh, but you do smell good blowing in off the lake!)

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Creative Writing,

Seriously, you're being so kind to me lately that I can barely stand it. Get ready for greatness!

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Monona,

Thank you for being located so close to my laundromat. With a bike, I can zip over to your gently lapping shores while my clothes wash and dry, and I can enjoy the relaxing undulation of the floating dock, rising and falling like some large (stiff) creature breathing. What could be more pleasant than an hour of hard working laundry so pleasantly passed gazing over the water's surface, changing with each breeze like a fickle child. This is life: the smell of lake slime on the distant rack of canoes, the sound of ducks honking as they pass the time of day, the feel of sun on my neck and weathered dock wood on my legs.

And then a great blue heron glides across my vision, its overlong legs and neck so awkward, but its wings so graceful as it just skims the lake surface on the downbeat, crossing to land on the opposite shore.

It has been four months since I arrived here with a moving truck full of hope, and yet I remain in daily disbelief that this place is really my home.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Cat My BFF Convinced Me to Adopt Five Years Ago,

This morning, your plaintive and insistent meowing could have been heard for at least a block around. Pacing across my face, meowing in my ear, all but tearing down the window blinds, and for what? For breakfast that's an hour late?

Which is to say thank you for being obnoxious this morning. With a late night behind me and an alarm clock that decided not to go off this morning, I would have slept through my morning work shift had it not been for you.

And an indirect thanks to my BFF for bringing this cat into my life in the first place. Little did we know how useful she would be beyond her fluffy cuteness and playful disposition.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Landlord, Landlady, God, and Timing,

Thank you so much for deciding to let me stay here. I didn't want to sound petulant and childish, but the idea of moving this fall—for the fifth time in six years—made me want to cry. It, in fact, did make me cry. Especially after seeing some of the apartments available elsewhere in the city within this price range, I couldn't bear the idea of leaving my garret, this neighborhood, or your family. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Woman Who Cut My Hair Today,

Okay, you're not my hairdresser from home. That goes without saying. And my hair was in such a state of split ends and disarray that—barring a Sinead O'Conner shave—you could probably have done anything to my tresses and it would have been an improvement after 6 months away from the shears.

But it really does look nice. And our conversation was good. The price reasonable. The haircare tips helpful. You don't hike or have a granddaughter, but you have two dogs and enjoy movies, so I think maybe this might be a relationship to nourish. I'm looking forward to it.

And boy does my hair feel better.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Landlord,

Thanks -- deeply -- for greeting your pets the way you did when you got home from work today. You may not have realized I could hear every word, but nevertheless, it delighted me. Your high-pitched voice, your endearing nicknames, and your general jubilee worked together to send me into silent paroxysms of laughter upstairs. I try so hard to act normal so you don't think you have a crazy tenant, but then again, maybe I should just relax.

Thanks to your kids, too, for standing outside my window and holding a conversation with your cat consisting entirely of variations on "meow." I don't feel nearly as nuts now for talking to all the animals I see each day.

Hugs & kisses for pets & kids,
B

Dear Readers,

I'm still here. It looks like you are, too, based on my stats tracker. I just haven't had much to say lately. Thanks for faithfully checking in, and I'm sure that I'll have some more open letters up here before long.

Hugs & kisses,
B