Welcome to Our Town, Belated

Someone caught wind that Mike and I moved into the neighborhood. Because now, after living somewhat peacefully for the last four months, our mail slot is being incessantly jammed full of "Welcome to Our Town" paraphernalia. We've gotten letters and flyers and vouchers and coupons (all addressed to us personally nonetheless) from possibly 75% of the businesses in the area, from dentists to restaurants to nail salons to insurance agents. It's gotten so bad that I have to cradle the mail in my arms just to get it the three feet from the box to the kitchen table. I feel like pulling a Kramer; I just don't want to get mail anymore. No more! I'd like to know who told them.

In other news, the weekend, as you may already know, was jammed full of fun (not mail). I miss our out of town guests already. I think the cat does too. She keeps pawing at the empty Stella beer box.