Once the creating and blogging and emails are done, there’s the invoicing and packing and shipping to do.
My shipping center is an old table in the corner of our guest room. Instead of blankets and clothes, the closet is filled with boxes and padded envelopes. My printer and label maker sit on a desk between the windows.
I’ve become friends with Wendy and Martha at the post office in town. I tell them what’s in the boxes and envelopes, about my latest creations and they tell me about the kittens born under the porch, bowling tournaments and camping trips. We let each other know if we’re having a bad day, we talk to each other like women who have worked together for a long time. We care about each other.
I could get a scale and print stamps from the post office on my computer. Then I wouldn’t have to make the trip into town, or wait on the occasional line. And if I lived in a big town or city, where the lines can be long and the service impersonal, might just do that. But I wouldn’t want to give up those conversations with Wendy and Martha. Two people I would probably never have known if not for my shipping.
The friendship doesn’t go beyond the counter at the post office but I know, for me, the connection has become a part of my life and work. Because I work alone I sometimes crave that kind of human contact. Just an easy conversation and a small window into someone else’s world.