A package arrived for me the other day.
"Someone sent you motorcycle parts!", Charlotte comments.
"I bet not," I say thoughtfully, looking at the mailing address on a box that does, in her defense, look suspiciously motorcycly, "I think I've just been gifted by the baking good fairy!"
And this turns out to be true.
There is a special place in heaven for friends that bake you delicious cake like things and mail them to you when you are gimpy and far far away.
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