apprendre à se connaître
An Elephant in the Room? Chez moi?

Quelle idée! = What a crazy idea! Or was it?

Petit pois

Normally, when panhandling for website donations, I post an attractive picture (a window decked with geraniums, a field of poppies, a stone cabanon). Looking at today's photo, I notice the pan is smudged with fingerprints and should have been polished before the snapshot was taken, haphazardly.

Before the last-minute photo was shot, I could be found at my desk, cancelling all of the automatically scheduled donations to my blog....

Well now how dumb is that? The thought did cross my mind, but I brushed it aside.

And when the 45 readers who'd signed up in 2009 for a scheduled yearly donation to my word journal--when they began emailing, moments after the cancellation--I wondered once again. Well, how dumb was I?

Now I'm busy emailing everyone back, with this explanation:

Hello Cate (and Roger and Sandy and Lee and Denise....)

Many thanks for checking in. I have decided to change the yearly automatic donations to "donate when and if you like" :-)
 
I will be sure to mention it [future "support opportunities"] in the newsletter, jingling my tip jar loudly when I'm feeling bold!
 
Take care and many thanks for all of your help over the years.
 
Amicalement,
Kristi

*    *    *

I hope I have made the right decision. I must have--for it comes as a relief to have released certain readers from what could have felt like an obligation. 

Re boldness, I'm feeling it now as I rattle my tip jar! If you enjoy this word journal and would like to help support it, then you can pitch in here, via this donation link.

As for the photo: those sweet petits pois are a gift from my neighbor, Annie. Despite horrible back pain, she planted a beautiful potager this year. And the muguet de mai, or lily of the valley, is from Aunt Geneviève, who offered an additional potted version: "You can plant it in your garden," she said. "It will spread into a carpet of little white bells!" Now there's a lovely thought or two--a little more poetic than my rattling tip jar.

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