Consider this:

Pen Pals Forever: A Lasting Friendship Born of Pen and Paper 

When I was nine years old and growing up in Dunedin, New Zealand, an international pen pal program connected me with a fellow nine-year-old named Lisa in Chicago. Even though our handwritten letters took two weeks to cross hemispheres and international date lines to arrive, we became dedicated pen pals. We shared stories about our families, our pets, our hobbies, our friends. We sent each other photos, capturing our goofy grins when we lost teeth in the 70s and my oversize glasses and her oversize hair in the 80s. Eventually, in our early teens, Lisa and I lost touch.

Fast forward to a sunny Sunday in Mill Valley, just 30 years later. On this morning, two years ago, I was reading an article in the newspaper about pen pals who met in person after exchanging letters for 55 years. Naturally, I thought about Lisa. Truth is, I’d thought about Lisa many times over the years, and I’d even Googled her name to track her down. But I could never quite remember how to spell her last name, Gutierrez: Did it have one “t” and two “rs” or two “ts” and one “r”? Was the “i” before or after the “t”? On this particular day, my spelling attempts on Google were once again unsuccessful, and I gave up my search.

Twenty-four hours later, I received a message in my LinkedIn mailbox:

Is this the Willow Older who grew up in New Zealand? This is your pen pal, Lisa.

I was, as we say in New Zealand, gobsmacked.

Turns out Lisa had read the same article about pen pals in her paper that I’d read in mine. Since “Older” is a much easier name to spell than “Gutierrez,” she found me in about five seconds flat. And so, after an interim of just three decades, Lisa and I became pen pals once again. This time, our handwritten letters were emails, plus the occasional postcard we both felt compelled to send, no doubt because our friendship really was born of pen and paper.

Last summer, Lisa extended her business trip in San Francisco so we could meet for the first time in our lives. As I watched Lisa and her fiancée, David, walk up to my front door that morning, I could see the smile on her face was just as big as the smile on mine. Unlikely as it may seem, Lisa and I both knew with absolute certainty that although we hadn’t communicated since we were teenagers, we would absolutely adore each other. And you know what? We did. And we do.

Which is why, when Lisa discovered last week that I was an ordained Universal Life Church minister, she asked if I would perform her wedding ceremony. And it’s why, without a moment of hesitation, I said absolutely, one hundred percent, yes. When I asked her the wedding date, I was, once again, gobsmacked. August 21^st. My own wedding anniversary — this year, my husband and are I celebrated our seventeenth.

Which makes me even more honored to have done my part in making August 21^st Lisa and David’s wedding anniversary, too.

So there you go. One sweet little story amidst the current teeth-gnashing, when-will-it-be-over news cycle.

And if it’s not enough to induce a smile, just hit “play” on that adorable cat video.

This article originally appeared in the Marin Independent Journal. Read it here.

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Cook this:

Grammy Lawes’ Famous Strawberry Freezer Jam 

2 pints strawberries, equal to 2 cups mashed fruit

2 Tbs fresh lemon juice

4 cups white granulated sugar (regular grain, not fine)

1 pouch Certo

Wash and rinse plastic storage containers or canning jars. I use a variety of freezer-safe, BPA-free containers (such as Ziplock) or canning jars, which I buy at the hardware store.

Remove stems from berries and cut up for easy crushing. Put the berries in a large glass measuring cup. Using a potato masher, crush them until they are soupy (but not pureed), with a few yummy berry chunks visible throughout. You need two cups of crushed berries. Measure the exact amount of sugar into a large bowl, then pour in the crushed berries. Mix well with a rubber spatula and let stand for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

While you wait, empty one package of Certo into a small bowl, add lemon juice and stir. When 10 minutes have passed, pour the Certo mixture into the prepared fruit/sugar. Stir constantly until sugar is completely dissolved and no longer grainy (about three minutes). Then pour the jam into your prepared containers, leaving a ½ inch of space at the top for expansion during freezing. Cover your containers or screw on the lids and let stand for 24 hours or until set. Refrigerate or freeze.

Note: Very rarely, my jam does not quite set properly. I don’t know why, ‘cause I can stir like a pro. If that happens, don’t despair. Runny freezer jam is a perfect topping for ice cream!

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Read this:

Secondhand Souls by Christopher Moore

Remember Newsy!’s open invitation for guest book reviewers? So far, the only people who have responded are my blood relatives. Which shows that either my family totally rocks or they feel just a little bit sorry for me. I’m going with the former, which is why I’m delighted to share this week’s review courtesy of my very own dad, Jules. He lives in San Francisco and takes a break from reading and reviewing his favorite crime novels (follow him on Twitter @novelcrimes) by reading (and today, reviewing) books by one of his favorite authors, Christopher Moore.

Secondhand Souls by Christopher Moore

When you’re gloomy, feeling low, ready to snap at the kids or kick the cat, I’ve got just the cure.

Pick up a book by Christopher Moore. Then hide away from the kids, the cat, whatever else is bringing on the blues. And start reading.

Or, if you’re in the car, enjoy being read to. Fluke, one of Moore’s early novels, may be the most delightful audiobook I’ve ever heard.

And now, Christopher Moore has a new book, Secondhand Souls. It’s not exactly a sequel, more a continuation of the bizarre story that began in Dirty Job. Both books are set on (and under) the streets of San Francisco. Both are politically incorrect. Both involve demons, death collectors, Celtic death goddesses, a pair of hellhounds and Charlie Asher, a Beta Male, “the kind of fellow who makes his way through life by being careful and constant — you know, the one who’s always there to pick up the pieces when the girl gets dumped by the bigger/taller/stronger Alpha Male.”

One thing I love about Secondhand Souls and all Moore’s books — they’re so funny, in part, because they’re so well researched. Here, the research focuses on Buddhism and San Francisco. I don’t know too much about the former, but he gets San Francisco dead right, from painting the Golden Gate Bridge to competitive shopping in Chinatown.

Christopher Moore is the master of research and the king of hilarity. And a sure cure for the blues.