It’s sourdough. Not Anthrax.

Twice this week someone’s sent me a dried sourdough culture that has accidentally been opened by the US Post Office and encased in a “We’re Sorry” envelope. One envelope was labeled “sourdough,” but the other was a cryptic “Maui,” Bo Ure’s home grown culture.
Should I tidy up my place in anticipation of a “courtesy visit” from the postal inspector? (Or worse.)