Dear _____,

I have other blog posts in the works this week, including some with pictures.  But for now, another episode of "Dear _____".

Sriracha…  To my sister, my brother-in-law, and my dad, I raise the bottle high.  …And then squirt you generously onto my food.

Corn tortillas whose package proudly proclaimed, "Recipe from Mexico"…  I feel it only fair to inform you: I am a self-appointed expert on the subject of Mexican food (thank you, California heritage), and you taste nothing like any other tortilla I’ve ever had before.  Fail.  Epic fail.  How could you even dare to call yourself a tortilla?!

Ceiling…  I would have preferred that you not decide to leak.  But since you did, thank you for choosing the bathroom instead of, say, right above my bed.  That was very considerate of you.

Fans…  I don’t think I would survive this season without you.  I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate you.

Tephra…  Have you forgotten me?  You never seem all that enthusiastic when I’m on Skype.  Even when I say your favorite word, walk, you just sort of…lay there.

Taco seasoning…  You’re like a magic powder to sprinkle on food and make it taste amazing.  Your flavors conjure up a warm, homey feeling.  No kitchen should be without you.

Sparrows…  You’re the same the world over, aren’t you?  You chirp and squabble and flit about the same way your cousins in the States do.  And you’re a reminder that my Heavenly Father cares for me, just like He cares for you.  (Luke 12:6-7)

Popcorn with ranch seasoning…  I think you’re quite possibly my favorite snack right now.  It was so nice of Esther to introduce us, wasn’t it?

Mrs. W…  Your faithful letter-writing is a rare thing.  And as much as I enjoyed real mail back home, it’s even more special here.

Striped rope curled up in the sand…  Yes, for a spilt second I did think you were a snake.  It’s good thing you weren’t, because my sandal-clad feet were only inches away when I first saw you.  I’m not sure what I would have done if you had been a snake.

Pringles…  First of all, I didn’t expect to see you here.  Second, I didn’t know you existed in flavors like paprika, bolognaise, and roasted chicken.

Neighbors…  Thank you for your instructive demonstrations on how to butcher a sheep (done within full view of my patio).  Maybe I’m not nearly as squeamish as I thought I was.

Instant coffee…  You’re not half bad (with sugar and coconut milk).  Or maybe it’s just been so long since I’ve had the real thing…

Ladies carrying huge loads on your heads…  How in the world do you do it - and not need a chiropractor?

"Beurre"…  You miserable imposter, you!  If you call yourself butter, you’d better not have a trace of vegetable fats in you.  I realized my mistake too late, but I don’t think I’ll be making the same one anytime soon.  Shudder.

Quick-cooking oats…  I haven’t figured out why you seem to have a faint perfume-y smell/taste.  Care to explain that to me?

Little children who call out, "Bon jour, madame!" as I walk past…  Your merry greeting and genuine smiles warm my heart.

Over-two-inch cockroach…  UGH!!!  I was sitting there, calmly eating my lunch, when I looked up, and there you were on my screen door.  The prospect of having to deal with you was most disagreeable, but upon investigation, I discovered you were on the outside of the screen.  What a relief.  However, the longer I looked at you crawling around, the more disgusted I became, until…well…it didn’t end so well for you, did it?  Hopefully your demise will be featured on the front page of the Cockroach Chronicles so the rest of your repulsive relatives will know I am not to be messed with.

Sandals…  You heroic things.  You’ve seen more cockroaches than a pest control company’s busiest inspector, yet you never flinch when I grab you (yet again) and whack you against whatever surface the vermin are crawling on.  …Well of course you don’t flinch.  You’re a pair of sandals!

Guy at the supermarket deli/meat counter…  Whoa!  What’s up with that knife?  I asked for half a dozen eggs – shells intact, please!  Oh, you’re only cutting the carton?  Whew.  You had me worried there for a minute.

Morning chorus of birds…  I like listening to you as the sun comes up.  There’s something familiar to your songs, and in a world of unfamiliarity, you are a welcome thing indeed.

Kitchen…  Doesn’t it feel good to be organized?!  I told you you’d like it.  You and I are a lot alike.  Or…maybe you’re only like me because I’m the one living here at present.  Well, either way, we’re both happy now, aren’t we?
 
Running gear…  I’m not sure if I should have bothered bringing you.  If I try to run on any of the roads/dirt paths nearby, I’m liable to trip and break my ankle.  Maybe I can do laps in my hallway…