There were three items in the mailbox this morning: a Jo-Ann Fabric coupon, a Vita Journal (wellness magazine), and a plain white “safety” envelope with just my name on it in big block letters. Phew, no bills. It was going to be a good day.

I set the coupon and magazine aside and opened the envelope to find three $50 bills and one five inside. Wh-what? Is this one of those weird chain letters where I’m supposed to send money to random people and good things will happen to me? I peeked inside the envelope but there were no instructions, no note, and no explanation, just the hard, cold cash.

I turned the envelope over. I didn’t recognize the handwriting at all. Obviously, the sender did not want me to know his identity. How the heck am I supposed to thank this person or return the money? And why such an odd amount? One hundred and fifty-five dollars…

Then it hit me. That’s the amount I spent on my new Keen hiking boots [see post of a few days ago]. Someone feels sorry for me that I’m sweating over spending that kind of money when Ken is out of a job.

Dang. I should have blogged about the need for a new kitchen. Maybe the U.P.S. truck will back up my driveway in a few days with shiny new appliances, cherry wood cabinets, and a cute, strong handyman.