It’s A Mystery To Me, Maybe

I sent a small needlepoint piece of a witch riding her broom across a full moon to my niece in Florida – but it never arrived. I didn’t insure it, just put it in a brown envelope and sent it off. I haven’t lost anything I’ve sent in the mail in a very long time, so this is baffling and aggravating.

It’s cool and damp this morning but supposed to be crazy hot tomorrow, the Grand Fourth, with a chance of thunderstorms in the evening. Bummer. We’ve got two guests coming over, will serve potato salad and coleslaw and watermelon and like that things for a light supper, then walk next door to the park to watch fireworks. I hope.

My niece sent me a lovely ancient piece of vellum that was a page in an Italian antiphonal to see if I could get it authenticated and perhaps valued. So far, no good, but I’ve got a few more places to inquire. I have a feeling there’s a mystery plot in this situation somewhere.

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