How the celebrations began one week ago: tarte tartin on Thursday.
Keep reading for Exhibit B.
How the celebrations wrapped up: a mysterious bouquet of flowers delivered on October 26, my birthday.
Why “mysterious?” Well, the plain white card attached to the bouquet was addressed to several individuals. “Thanks for the lovely dinner in your home,” it read. Not only was “Karen” not listed among the names, I’ve not hosted a dinner party recently. I deduced that somewhere out there there’s a bouquet of flowers meant for me. Flower swap!
Incredibly, the florist’s name was nowhere to be found, but there was an address and a phone number— that of the intended recipients—handwritten in a childlike scrawl on the front of the tiny envelope.
I texted a brief summary of events to the phone number.
“Hi there! Oh my goodness. Yes, those are friends of ours. However I don’t have a bouquet delivery here,” came the reply. “Happy birthday!! I’m so sorry for the mix up!!”
She, and I assume it was a “she,” volunteered to reach out to her friends, the gracious dinner party guests who sent the flowers, to find out the name of the florist.
"You’re too kind! Thanks so much," I replied. "And the flowers are gorgeous."
“Awww!!! Enjoy them and keep them. And the florist should send you new ones from your friend. It’s your birthday!! The more flowers the better :) “
“Well, I was impressed and thought going forward I will have to send flowers as a thank you to kind hosts!” I texted.
“Reminds me I have some thank you cards to write… I’m behind."
She then shared that she had celebrated her birthday at the beginning of the month, and that the dinner party she’d hosted was in honor of the flower giver’s birthday just three days before mine. “October babies ♥️” she chimed.
It’s been two days and I haven’t heard back from my new text friend. Nor have I figured out who sent the flowers. I’ve ruled out the usual suspects as they also sent bouquets, ones that were properly addressed to me!
So, if the flower sender is reading this, please reach out. Know that I’m not being rude. I just don’t know who to thank—for the flowers and for the delightful mystery.
I like to make stuff...and think about stuff.