One arrived in the mail yesterday, and two the day before.
That brings our grand total of Christmas cards - so far - to 14. Thank goodness there are still 11 days to go.
A few years ago, we might have received 24 by now. A few years before that, and the total might have been 30. And a few years earlier - well, you get the idea.
This new shrunken-card reality does not, however, mean we've been crossed off various acquaintances' Christmas card lists for slighting them in some way. Rather, it means those acquaintances no longer have lists because they no longer buy Christmas cards, let alone send them.
If asked about this, those acquaintances might tell you they have "other things to do" at this time of year.
I find this curious.
I, too, have "other things to do" at this time of year - and at every time of year, for that matter.
I have to sort the recycling, for one thing. And make the bed. And blowdry my hair.
In spite of that, I still find time to pick up the prettiest cards of the season, and get them in the mail.
I do this, not because I'm obliged to, or because my friends would defriend me if I didn't.
I do this because what goes around comes around - or used to, anyway.
"Oh no," said my sister the other day when I asked her if she still sends Christmas cards. "I have other things to do."
"Like what?" I asked. "Besides Christmas baking?"
"Oh," she said. "I no longer have time to do Christmas baking, either. Just too many other things to do."
Granted, the sister does have other things to do. She eats, for instance, so that means she has to go to the grocery store occasionally, and then put whatever she buys into the oven. She likes to sleep, as well, so that means there are eight hours in every 24-hour period when she is not in a position to write Christmas cards.
"But don't you like to get Christmas cards?" I asked her.
"Of course!" she said. "But who does that any more?"
Well, I told her. I do.
Call me old-fashioned, but I still find time to write a handful of cards - in between the blow-drying and the sorting of the recycling.
"So," said the sister, "would you like me to send you a Christmas card?"
Yes, I told her, I'd like that a lot.
I may not hit the 30 mark, but every last one counts.
