I have been a recipient of lots of care packages recently, and I most certainly haven't sent any out (they're still snuggled comfortably in my imagination). I might not have even said thank you (yet) for some of them.
That's grace, my friends.
Here's a care package that surprised me so much I almost blew out my other eyeball laughing:
Don't get the joke yet? Lannis sent it to me. And it's autographed:
Lannis recommended Shiver to me in the winter, and it was the last book I read before the whole eyeball saga. Which means, naturally, that Maggie Stiefvater broke my eyeball (with Lannis' help).
Which reminds me of another book story, totally unrelated to the topic of care packages. (It's why you love me, don't lie.)
I met Bill Bryson, and asked him to sign my copy of A Walk in the Woods, which, graciously, he did:
But I couldn't figure out why the "still".
Until I looked more closely at a book I'd had for ten years:
That's probably why I've gotten so many care packages recently.
I obviously need care.
As in, "don't let her go out of the house unsupervised" care.
