In San Francisco two weeks ago, we visited the Mission, one of the neighborhoods there. (There's probably a reason for the name, but who has time for that kind of research?) There are tons of murals on the walls and garage doors in the area, some with political or personal messages, some just art for art's sake. It was cool stuff, so I picked up a postcard.
I recently received a postcard from my friend Libby while she was in Puerto Rico. She and I do a pretty good job swapping letters, so I figured a response-postcard was in order. I told her a bit about how I'd liked the city, even despite my general distaste for art. I closed the card informing her that we'd purchased a tablecloth today. Such a grown-up thing to do.
And no, I still haven't filled out my census, even though I advised you--my legions upon legions of readers--to do so. I swear I'll have it done by next week's entry. And no, I won't count that as my mailed piece. I'd like to add, though, that I'm pretty sure my mother-in-law does way more to support the USPS than I do. We got a Happy Easter/Spring card from her the other day, and that's completely the norm. Way to go, Wendy.