August 4th

Today’s my birthday so when I heard the letter box clatter open followed by a flutter and a thump, I scurried downstairs to check for birthday cards. Three bright, card-shaped envelopes lay on the mat along with the usual bills so I gathered everything and retreated to our bed to open them.

“Happy Birthday, Trish.” Cal pulled a plastic bag from under the bed. My husband has never learned that a gift needs to be gift-wrapped and accompanied by a card. “Hope you like it.”

The bag concealed a wooden sewing box with concertina-style opening compartments. I already have a sewing box, of course, but this one was lovely.

“Thought it might help with the market stall sewing?”

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