01/04/2026: A Letter a Week

When I told myself that I should start coming back here at least once a week, I forgot that I had set myself to a Sunday schedule. So, this will go up less than a week after I’ve set my ‘Resolution’.

I’m not sure if that means the Resolution has already failed, but here we go.

What’s more is that I have a different routine I’m going to start on Sunday morning for this year, but it’s not a Resolution for myself, per se. I’ve been mulling it over for the last three months, in fact.

Putting it simply: the Post Office is dying. Not just in terms of financial stability, but in terms of its institution. We need letters.

Firstly, and the thing that I have to remind people often is that the Postal Service is not built to be a company, but as a part of the US American community. We are servants of the People, but we need postage to sustain ourselves. I agreed with the fact that we are not funded through taxes; that can put our Service at risk of being beholden to politicians when we are supposed to be beholden to the People whom those politicians represent. For that to continue, however, we need the People to sustain us with postage.

Secondly, and a bit more metaphorical, but we, the Postmen, need to be proud of what we do again. I and many many other Postmen will tell you that we are, in fact, proud of what we do, but I’ve been here for 15 years, and I’ve watched that pride be worn down to exhausted disappointment.

I think part of the problem is that we’ve, as a society, have geared ourselves to moving quickly to meet ever-shortening deadlines. While I know that the purpose of communication is to convey information in an efficient manner, it’s not until I force myself to stop, sit down, and either talk to a friend in person or (and here’s the kicker) write/read a letter from someone that communication becomes meaningful. In all the months of the last peak season, when I was running myself ragged along with the rest of the US Postmen in this country, the things I remember most clearly and contentedly are two occasions:

1: When I had my childhood friends nearby. We all had the same idea: “Can we please just enjoy each other’s time and company without a timer running?”

2: When I received simple letters from other friends who could not come into town for the holidays. I felt an obligation to push away that sense that I needed to be doing something else and enjoyed reading the conversation my friends sent to me.

Now, I just need that to happen more often, but on a national scale.

I’ll be the first to admit that that’s going to be a very tall order for a short glass. Not to mention that there’s irony inherent in that, for my goal to gain notoriety, I have to use social media to encourage others to write letters more often. There’s also a concern about the Code of Ethics to which I’m bound, but I and several other postal workers have determined that I can, in fact, ask that the People remember us and give us letters to deliver.

That project will start, as all grassroot projects do, very locally. I’ll be writing to customers in my hometown to ask that they start sending out letters at least once a week. I’ll be asking that they encourage pen-pals again. I’ll be asking that the People realize that we, the US Postmen, belong to them and want our service to be utilized so it does not disappear.

I know. I’ve been told before that there isn’t much hope in such a project. But even a little hope can go a long way, and I’ll be holding myself to the same standard: I’ll be writing a letter once a week to friends I can text right then and there. I can promise that I’ll remember the lettered conversations better than what’s stored in my phone.

Stay safe out there, folks. Write your friends.

-JB Swift

01/01/2026: Auld Lang Syne, lang may yer lum reek.

… it’s been a minute, hasn’t it, folks?

The past year turned out to be one where this old dog had to learn new tricks, find new talents, and rediscover old techniques. I ended up busier than I can rightly recall ever having been.

Not something I would’ve wished as I’ve left my thirties, but here we are.

Not what I expected in my career.

It was my first year as a Union Branch President, and I had a trial-by-fire of learning the rules and methods of the Union Steward and Branch President roles. That means I’ve become a (thankfully very small-time) politician. My local branch had dwindled to basically insignificance, but I’ve found good people willing to help rebuild it, and we are, slowly but steadily, making our way back to relevance.

My first time speaking to a crowd of 200 people. Yes, I was terrified.

This means I was also tapped to go with the Louisiana team to up to D.C. and speak with members of Congress and the Senate. Now, those people have heard my name. Whether they actually know who I am, couldn’t tell me. I’m not sure how to feel about it.

In order to actually be competent in these roles, it does mean that I’ve had to go back to school, of sorts. There have been numerous seminars, classes, and week-long trainings I’ve had to attend; all it’s really done is show me just how much I don’t know, but I have to learn it all well enough to teach it, myself.

I’ve had my work cut out for me, folks.

That’s meant, unfortunately, that I’ve been too tired or busy for my usual escapes and stress-relief. I wasn’t able to keep the Star Wars campaign running on my regular schedule, and I admit that the quality of my plot-writing was beginning to suffer. It was a bitter disappointment to put that story on hiatus; it put me through a round of depression, in fact. But when 2025 was winding down to a close (and I was growing almost frantic with the stress), I decided I needed something.

For that something, I went a bit old-school.

Cracked open one of the many leatherbound journals I’ve been given over the years, found my old pen set, and started writing/drawing. It’s slower than what NaNoWrimo expects from me, and I’m writing it out without clear outlines, so sometimes I’ll put down details or choices I was not expecting. I’ve strangely enjoyed this more than I have when writing on the keyboard.

Also, my cursive is slowly becoming legible. I might even develop actual penmanship!

I haven’t left the Star Wars RPG Universe fully, just yet. I do still work on it, in quiet moments. Don’t fret, players; we’ll get back there some day.

2025 was not without its losses. We had to say goodbye to the last of the original pack, Indy.

We miss you, buddy.

Indiana had developed a cancer on his jaw, and it grew way too quickly for us to stay ahead of it. It came to a talk about chemotherapy for him, but we decided to not take away his quality of life at his age. He was the youngest of the Old Four, and the last to go. We like to say that he left to continue his psychotic rivalry with Jojo the Golden Retriever up in Valhalla. I still, for some reason, trip over empty air where he usually likes to suddenly stop in front of my feet. He was a good dog.

When December finally drew itself to a close, and I finally could put away my phone and not answer the myriad of calls and questions, I had to take a moment and review how I’ve done with this life, over the year. Much as I like being able to help and lead what have become my people in the Union, I have to remind myself to slow down a little, occasionally.

I think I’ll try that for a Resolution. I don’t set much store in that tradition, but it’d probably be good for me to try it. Especially after my last doctor visit, on New Year’s Eve, where my physician told me to remember my heart. I’m about to be 40, after all. Now I’ve got to take care of myself as well as everyone else around me.

This look like a good start.
Slightly older, slightly grayer, same Black Dog shirt.

I’m going to try coming back here, at least on Sunday mornings before I go tramping off around the property looking for chores. That might make for longer posts, if I can hide myself well enough whittle away for an hour (and I’m not distracted by actually whittling a new smoking pipe), but I’ve missed this little corner of mine the past few months.

No matter what, however, I’ll keep watching my children grow into the wonderful people they’re becoming, praying I’ve taught them rightly, and I’ll keep writing, every chance I get.

Cheers, good people. Happy 2026. May it be a full year, with the good and bad, and hopefully you’ll see me here again. I’ll want to know all about how your year went.

Stay safe out there, folks.

-JB Swift

PS~ Han discovered the Lord of The Rings universe, and then she learned that my Catholic and Irish names can go into my “government name” and said I should make a signature symbol like Tolkien. It needs work, but she thought it looked cool as a draft.

39! Some frustrations but books!

I’m thirty-nine years old!

I was unable to take my Security+ exam!

…sonofabitch.

I stood up from my desk to get Cooper, the golden retriever, a calming chewie to keep his barking down when I had two minutes before the start time. Little did I know (because they only wrote in chat and did not speak) the proctor had logged in early and decided that my coming back into frame was enough to declare my test time invalid. Before the exam would start.

Yes, I’m appealing for a redo and should hear something soon. But to say that I was angry was an understatement of…epic proportions. I basically shut down to keep from shouting at everyone, since no one around me deserved to receive my grumpiness. I’ve calmed down enough to be socially acceptable (as much as I am normally, anyway) and I’m making the most of my time off from the post office and not studying for 9 hours a day.

On a high note, I’ve found books to read for the next month!

I have no idea what the Swifts book is about, and I’m not one for Young Adult stories, but it caught my attention (understandably) when Sarah pointed it out at the bookstore. That, and finding a new (to me) series to try out rounded out my birthday.

I’ll give myself a month to read “Colonyside” and set a reminder to write up an opinion piece, but if you’re a science-fiction reader and fan of John Scalzi: the first line is a damn good hook.

“I’m not dead yet.”

You know what…all right, Michael Mammay. That’ll do. If it turns out that I’m reading out of order, I’ll post a correction and hurriedly catch up.

And now…Cooper taking the good seat for the fireplace.

Stay safe out there, folks.

-JB Swift

02/09/2025 Sunday Updates

Progress is progressing!

Except for when Korra thinks I need to stop studying by cramming herself under my desk.

With studies paused and dogs moved out of small spaces, I did manage another writing session before being interrupted by Cooper!

Cooper was not pleased that I had spent most of my Saturday at my desk.

He wouldn’t look at me for almost three minutes. That’s hours of resentment for golden retrievers.

02/07/2025 Vacation Starts, Study Time Now!

Folks, I’m away from the Post Office for the next…checks calendar…two weeks! After clocking out yesterday and clearing out the case and Union PO Box, I ran away from the building with all the appearance of a schoolboy at the beginning of summer.

Why is there a two-week vacation from work in the middle of winter? I have two reasons: first, my birthday is this month and when I have the leave, I take most of the month off as a gift to myself. Second, because I’m taking the Security+ certification exam on my birthday, so the majority of the time-off will be spent at this desk and reading for all I’m worth.

That doesn’t sound much different than what I do on any of my regular non-scheduled days, does it?

But while I’m going to be bound to this spot for the next two weeks, I’ll be able to make daily posts, provided I don’t get hit with executive dysfunction. Speaking of which, another chunk of writing progress was made this week!

It’s not even into Chapter 11. I need an editor who doesn’t mind Star Wars fanfiction; that, or I was shooting too low for my projected goals.

I’m betting the latter.

There are several projects and notes I’d like to get back to, plus a few ideas to try. In the meantime, look at the leek Sarah got me.

There’s a leek in my office!

Back to the studying I go.

02/02/2025 Happy Birthday, Mom

Today was a day spent having dinner with the woman who always encourages me to find spots throughout the day to work at my writing: my mother.

No pictures, I’m afraid, but I forgot to ask her permission to post photos, so I’m going to leave that as it is.

On top of that, said dinner was a true rarity: having all four of us (Dad, Mom, my older brother, and myself) at the table! Considering how far we all live from each other, I think this happens maybe once a year if at all.

It was a pure moment for mom to experience and I’m hopeful the next time comes about soon.

Snow Day in Louisiana

While any readers in more Northern climates might be scoffing at the excitement, I will unashamedly talk a little about the consequences of an arctic blast reaching the Gulf of Mexico: snow on the ground, and it’s actually fluffy!

Six inches of snow is predicted for the next day. This being the South, and thus beyond the reckoning of most of its inhabitants, no one knew precisely what to do about the weather. Normally, this would not be a detractor for me and the Post Office. I’d be walking out in that and honestly wouldn’t mind (until Reynauds kicked in and my hands started to hurt and curl in on themselves), but schools have been closed for today and tomorrow.

Bundled up the children and chucked them outside for as long as they could stand the 24 degrees with 51% humidity. That’s a lot drier than they’re used to, but then again, they’re not used to snow being on the ground. While it’s not the first time they’ve had snow, it’s a rare enough event to cause psychotically happy moods and a need to go racing out the door.

They lasted twenty minutes before Han discovered that, like her father and grandmother, Reynaud’s disease is genetic and hurts even when you warm back up.

A for effort, kids. They made the most of the little snow they’ve had so far. By mid-afternoon, they’ll be wanting to go back outside, having forgotten the consequences of the weather and soon to be running back inside as the temperature plummets.

It was also a first for Cooper to see snow, and like the children, the puppy lost his goddamned mind.

That area was blanketed just a few minutes before I snapped the photo. I’ve never seen a Golden get the zoomies quite that hard before.

I, on the other hand, have had enough experience with the cold weather to know that my hands won’t let me enjoy it for too long. I did go out there and played a bit –because how often do I get to hurl snowballs at my children? -before heading inside and handling the indoor responsibilities. Prepping for winter meals such as stews, soups, and so on.

I’ve managed 30 minutes of writing time today, and another 30 minutes of studying for the certification exam, but due to listening to the Silmarillion again, I’ve started up on a small project for those late-night hours when I can’t sleep due to minding the fireplace but can’t get the brain to focus on the story: map-making.

I have no idea what it’ll be used for, but it’s something to keep up the creativity and thus ward off the insanity. I also came across one of WordPress’ ‘Writing Prompts’ that caught my interest, so there may be two posts today. I’ll get another writing sprint in while the children have their afternoon “it’s snowing, oh crap that means it’s cold and we’re not acclimated to that!” playtime.

Y’all bundle up out there and mind the cold.

-JB Swift

01/19/2025 A Busy Week meets Forced Time Off

The past week has been frustrating in assigning priorities, but now that I’ve been ‘forced’ to stay home for a few days, I’ll be able to hold myself to my daily goals!

The week was full of myself saying that before I could sit down at the desk and write, I needed to make progress in my house project: handling the bigger cleaning chores before Sarah came back from her trip. Between that and minding the gremlins we had created, it’d be near 9 or 10 PM before I could make it to the keyboard.

Responsibilities are not fun, but it’ll be satisfying when Sarah comes home to clothes folded and put away, floors cleaned, and (if I’m lucky) the kids’ rooms not looking like tornados had come in for visits.

Another reason I’m trying so hard to make it into remote work as a cybersecurity analyst: I like house-spousing.

What else had happened during the week? Plenty!

Han discovered my learning how to bake and helped me figure out two recipes: shortbread cookies and hand pies.

Apparently, hand pies are meat pies but large enough to function as full meals. Got it from a Hobbit cookbook.

The next four days look like I’ll be staying at the house while Louisiana handles an artic blast that the residents are nowhere near prepared for, so with luck I’ll be able to sit down and write or study. Or we’ll have the power knocked out; one or the other.

Y’all stay safe in the weather.

-JB Swift