Thursday, 5 May 2011
We have just received one of the first holiday postcards of 2011*, and it got me thinking.
I don't really get the holiday postcard thing. Why would anyone be interested in my holiday destination, the food, the view, the weather etc. etc.? Those who need to know, know, and those who don't, probably don't really care anyway.
But not so my husband. John does postcards in a big way. Every time we go away on holiday, the routine (for a two-weeker) is as follows:
On about day 4: "I need to buy my postcards," says he, making a list of names.
Day 6: he buys his postcards.
Day 8: "I ought to write my postcards."
Day 9/10: he sits down and laboriously writes them.
Day 11: "I really ought to post my postcards."
Me (exasperated): "Isn't it a bit late? Why don't you post them when we get home?"
John (shocked); "Oh, no! That wouldn't be at all the same!"
No. It wouldn't. But it would be a great deal easier. The postcards are a chore, and are largely unnecessary. They hang over him like a little cloud of "oughts" (there shouldn't be any oughts on holiday).
But he'll do it again this year. And in spite of what I've said, in a funy way, it wouldn't be a proper holiday if he didn't.
*Needless to say, from a friend of John's.