I’ve already shared my thoughts on why birthday postcards outweigh birthday cards. But I was talking about other people’s birthdays. Why would you send a postcard on your own birthday?
I loved this bit of a New Yorker interview with Barbara Hillary, the first African-American woman to reach the North Pole (and the first to reach the South):
“She turned eighty-eight on June 12th. She did what she usually does, which is to give gifts to the people who have been nice to her all year: her mechanic, who changes the oil the way she wants him to; her butcher, who gives her the best cut of meat.”
Love that. This year, I intend to do the same but with postcards.