I printed a selfie that my husband took of the two of us at Dworshak Lake when we were there fishing last week. I think it is the best photo ever taken of us, and I printed an 8 x 10 and mailed it to my mum-in-law, who lives in the small, artsy town of Aurora, Oregon. I mailed it in a 9” x 12” manila envelope, certified mail with tracking, from our local post office in southeastern Washington State. I included a note of thanks for the wonderful, thoughtful trove she sent for my birthday.
A tracking email informed me the envelope had left our local post office. Today I received a notification of formidable progress. My mum-in-law’s mail had arrived at the post office. In Atlanta, Georgia.
Oregon zip codes begin with 9. Georgia zip codes begin with 3. I live 365 miles from Aurora, and 2,386 miles from Atlanta.
I called our local post office, presented the facts, and asked how these things happen. The clerk posited that my envelope piggy-backed onto another piece of mail and wound up on the wrong plane. She said Atlanta would put it on another plane and send it on to the addressee, probably making delivery a day later. I thought that she might be a bit over-optimistic, but the content is, after all, replaceable; the photo is in both my and my husband’s computers.
I called my mum-in-law and told her I didn’t want her to think I was remiss in posting a thank-you card, and the fact that her card was sent to Atlanta. She thought it was wonderfully funny, and appraised the situation in her usual way, “All is in divine order,” and this time she added, “And it makes me laugh, too!” Her buoyancy is one reason I love her so much.