I sent two pieces of mail today.
The first was a birthday card to my sister. I wish I’d thought to scan it first, but I mailed it, so it’s too late now. It had a sweet, sparkly picture of slices of cake.
The other was a card to my nephew. This one was originally a Christmas card, and has a reindeer on the front. But my nephew was on a cross-country trip at the time, so I couldn’t mail it. Then he arrived in Colorado, where he is living out of an old school bus decked out to be a “tiny house,” and he didn’t have a way set up yet to receive mail. I asked my sister, and she said to send it to her, and she would get it to him the next time she sent a package. But she moved right after that, and it was a while before I had her new address. Oh well. I finally sent it today, with a note saying he could consider it a St. Patrick’s Day card, and a drawing of a shamrock.
(No, that is not my crude ballpoint-pen shamrock drawing from the card. It is just one of many four-leaf clovers I have found over the years, preserved for posterity.)