A Long Walk To A Mailbox Filled With Birthday Cards

I had myself a long endorphin inducing aerobically stimulating swim early this morning. By the time my midday need to aerobicize rolled around I was not in the mood to drive anywhere to bike, hike or walk in the humid HEAT.

Instead of driving somewhere to walk I walked to the mailbox.

In the mailbox I found several birthday cards.

My mom called me yesterday and asked if a birthday card had arrived. It had not. Mom said that likely was because it was mailed on the 8th.

My favorite aunt, she being my dad's big sister, writes the best letters. This year's birthday card's letter delivered. Very amusing. My aunt taught high school English, which may explain why her letters are so good. And perfectly handwritten, as in flawless handwriting, a skill I no longer have.

I took the birthday cards to my favorite picnic table and opened them, read what was inside and took the picture above. Then I called my mom  and dad to tell them the card had arrived and to thank them for the contents.

When my mom called yesterday I was informed that I had the number wrong when I blogged about mom and dad's anniversary last week. It was number 62. Not 63. How do I so routinely make mistakes such as these?

Very perplexing....