Moving Forward Retreat


Here I am on the job, Writer/Letter Carrier. 🙂
I’m so honored to have been nominated as a candidate and selected to attend the Minnesota Union Women’s Retreat! My union is picking up the tab for all expenses for this three day opportunity to network and workshop with other women to foster greater participation by women in their workplaces, unions, and communities AND I get paid for those days ‘off’.


Here also is a pic of the brochure and some helpful hints for improving the Women’s Retreat experience. I hope you notice that they specifically ask for the poetry. 😉

Still Life: Door in Winter


Sometimes it’s hard to disturb things,
to change the staus quo.
A still life can be beautiful in its pristine
But even the quietest door
that hasn’t been opened in the longest time
has new vines creeping across its letter slot,
has freshly fallen beauty at its feet,
has light playing across its windows
like the fingers of a goddess strumming
the strings of a harp made of rainbows and glass.
And me? I am the one who really can’t help herself,
even if it wasn’t her job,
breaking a path through the snow,
knocking on every door I come across
and leaving missives
in unused mail slots that like stubborn mouths
and sealed hearts
have stayed closed till rust rubricates their metal lips.
Don’t say I never gave you anything. 😉
— From the “Places the Mail Took Me” series by Annette Marie Hyder

Message bearing

Photo from the “Places the Mail Took Me” series by Annette Marie Hyder

The original meaning of the Greek work for angel is ‘messenger’. I was carrying letters in the snow today and saw this messenger, this angel, looking to be struggling through the snow — just like me. 🙂

How much walking do I do on a route when I am on a walking route? Well there’s an app for your iPhone that counts your steps. I walked 11 miles today. Just your average ‘angel’ –one wearing grippers on her boots. 😉



This one route that I had to work over and over again — Route 52 — had a Chihuahua dog on it. This Chihuahua dog had a heart like a balloon — not a balloon filled with helium or air but a balloon inflated with hate. His heart was so filled with hate that I thought daily that I might witness it burst and see him collapse in a heap behind the fence that separated him and his fury from me.

Friday was my last day on Route 52. I pulled up two houses down from C.D.W.H.F.H. (Chihuahua Dog With Hate Filled Heart) and noticed a dog that looked JUST LIKE HIM out in the neighbors yard — that he shouldn’t be in. What’s more, this dog that I saw had his little head tilted up and his nose pleasure deep in smelling a large tulip which draped down invitingly to his short-legged height. He had to really tilt into it to sniff it.

Could that pleasure loving dog sniffing a tulip be the C.D.W.H.F.H.? I watched him for a moment and then opened my door. The noise alerted him to his audience and that his audience was ME. Yes. It was C.D.W.H.F.H. and he instantly transformed into the crappy little bugger that I knew so well. Barking with all his fury and madness at me — and that wasn’t even his yard!

His owner called him over where he belonged — behind the fence he had somehow escaped. And that was the last interaction we had.

So today I started a brand new route. I kind of missed the horrible creature, C.D.W.H.F.H.

(Image via