Today, I was doing my usual day off things, working on another quilt project, trying to keep the house straight, doing laundry, deducing what to make for dinner, etc. Someone knocked firmly at the door. I had just got back from taking the boys from school to the rec center so they could play basketball, so I knew it wasn’t one of them. It was, in fact, the mailman, who I am calling the mailman instead of the letter carrier because I was raised in the age of mailmen. He had a package for me.
At first, I thought it was some fabric I ordered recently for yet another project, but it was not softly fabric shaped, it was rectangular and firm–obviously a book. I had recently ordered a couple of books, but they all arrived last week. I was a little intrigued. I signed for my package and brought it inside.
Then, I recognized the return address. It was from my friend the Autograph Hound. I had no idea what he could have sent me. I had only mentioned one person whose autograph I might be interested in, and I know this person has not written a book. So who?
I eagerly opened the padded envelope. And found this:
I was truly and utterly speechless. I really do have the best friends in the world.