The Slice: Seeking stamp of approval

The post office will hold mail for you, of course.

But that requires filling out a form. When you are about to head out of town on vacation, your to-do list is already long enough.

So some of us ask neighbors to check our mail boxes while we are away.

There’s just one problem with that. Based on the mail you receive while out of town, your neighbor might conclude that you are the least interesting, least in-demand person in the western United States.

My wife and I were away from home for 10 days a few weeks ago. One of our neighbors was kind enough to collect our mail and newspapers.

Now I should point out that the neighbor in question is a busy woman with a full, rich life. It’s unlikely she spent two seconds scrutinizing our mailbox haul.

But I can tell you the week-plus yield was pathetic — some junk mail, a few boring bills and one or two envelopes addressed to “Occupant.”

No personal letters. No correspondence from a downtown law office. No jury duty summons. No postcards from San Francisco. No fan mail from some flounder.

Based on the evidence at hand, our neighbor would not have been tempted to imagine that we are living large.

OK, sure, a lot of us communicate mostly online these days. The volume and variety of snail mail we receive is not necessarily an indication of our social vibrance. Still, it would be nice to appear to be more than an Avista customer.

Yes, this is not a big deal. But isn’t that what makes up most of life — things that are not a big deal?

If you have thoughts about that, write me a letter. My neighbor won’t see it, but I’ll be glad to get it all the same.

Near potato salad, near perfect: Some years ago Marilyn Othmer brought potato salad to a family gathering.

One of the grandkids critiqued her effort. “This is really good, it tastes just like the potato salad our other grandma makes.”

Marilyn and “other grandma” looked at each other and laughed. And Marilyn shared their secret.

“We both grew up in Spokane, it’s a Spokane thing.”

Today’s Slice question: What’s the strangest bit of folk medicine practiced by one of your elderly relatives?