There is a wonderful timeless phenomenon that occurs every weekday morning at my house, throughout the seasons, in drumming rain, scorching heat or blustering winds. All across this great country, and indeed, the world, this very phenomenon replicates it’s self at millions of homes.
For us, it happens sometime between 10am and noon when the day is still fresh with possibility, yet well enough underway to provide distractions. It is Buzz who is often the first to know and bark to share the news with anyone else that may be home. The mail has arrived!
I KNOW that I am not the only fully grown adult who, despite the endless parade of bills, fliers and catalogues through the letterbox, continues to hold a flicker of hope that the mail will bring some wonderful well travelled surprise. I am not the only one who eagerly peers into the dark belly of the letterbox or “casually” scans the mail table, maintaining the daily vigil for that elusive handwritten pastel envelope or chunky brown paper package tied up with string.
Well yesterday, my fellow post watchers, it paid off! Fingering through the oodles of catalogues and free breakfast cereal sample, I almost dismissed the unassuming tough bag as more of the promotional clutter shoved into the pitched roof of our mailbox. When I did realise what it was, with raised eyebrows and raised hopes, I fingered its corners and tried to imagine what lucky person was receiving a package. Then to my amazement and elation I saw that the name on the bag was mine! Mine, mine, mine. A quick double take then merely seconds until I was into the stiff folds of the battered little parcel.
My lovely Nanna, who lives in Perth, has knitted me a surprise scarf and without warning, popped it into the post for me to find one average, run of the mill morning. What a lucky Franky! I love surprises.
For us, it happens sometime between 10am and noon when the day is still fresh with possibility, yet well enough underway to provide distractions. It is Buzz who is often the first to know and bark to share the news with anyone else that may be home. The mail has arrived!
I KNOW that I am not the only fully grown adult who, despite the endless parade of bills, fliers and catalogues through the letterbox, continues to hold a flicker of hope that the mail will bring some wonderful well travelled surprise. I am not the only one who eagerly peers into the dark belly of the letterbox or “casually” scans the mail table, maintaining the daily vigil for that elusive handwritten pastel envelope or chunky brown paper package tied up with string.
Well yesterday, my fellow post watchers, it paid off! Fingering through the oodles of catalogues and free breakfast cereal sample, I almost dismissed the unassuming tough bag as more of the promotional clutter shoved into the pitched roof of our mailbox. When I did realise what it was, with raised eyebrows and raised hopes, I fingered its corners and tried to imagine what lucky person was receiving a package. Then to my amazement and elation I saw that the name on the bag was mine! Mine, mine, mine. A quick double take then merely seconds until I was into the stiff folds of the battered little parcel.
My lovely Nanna, who lives in Perth, has knitted me a surprise scarf and without warning, popped it into the post for me to find one average, run of the mill morning. What a lucky Franky! I love surprises.
2 comments:
Hi ... found your blog indirectly (semi-randomly) and just wanted to say how much I enjoy your photos. Makes me want a new camera.
Hi Robert,
Thanks for your comment. Glad you like my photos. I'll admit I take about 30 to get one that I like. I'm having so much fun with the camera though!
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