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Story with a card in it
TO HAND, a “Happy birthday, Dad” postcard from my younger daughter, based in York, while on holiday in Paris on August 21 – hence a month or more late arriving here, yet better than never.
My daughter’s sentiment is shared with several companions, by implication my other offspring of whom I have previously been unaware. Perhaps I need more neuromuscular memory exercise.
But the postcard? Well, there’s only half my address on it. En route, it probably visited Scotland and, who knows – Austria, Ampleforth, Ankara, Ashgabat?
After all, what can most people outside Australia be expected to make of simply “Perth” and “WA”? In the limited spaces on the postcard, helpful unknown hands have added “Australie?” and “1st Ave?”.
To my breathlessly busy daughter’s credit, she also sent me an email on the day – stream of kisses; her adventures being by now, of course, none of a dad’s business.
My purpose here: to thank the UK and French postal services, and all other postal services involved, for an eventual successful delivery; the postcard and French stamp now being looked upon as a treasured gift.
Ron Willis First Avenue, Mount Lawley, Perth, Western Australia.
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