Wednesday, 1 July 2009

The parcel in the letter box was for me!

I love getting the sort of surprise parcel I had yesterday. It came from my two godchildren in Singapore. There was a DVD in there of my goddaughter's solo with the orchestra. It was carefully protected from harm by being wrapped in a t-shirt.
The t-shirt has a cat on it - black, printed on cream. It is elegant and sophisticated. The cat is....sleek, smug and decidedly Asian in its simplicity. I will enjoy wearing it next summer.
My godchildren are great kids - and not just because of the t-shirt. I at least remember their birthdays...and my own godmother's birthday. She will be 89 tomorrow. Sadly she lives in Sydney these days so I will not be seeing her.
I do see my godfather occasionally. He escapes on the days that his wife has a bridge party in their unit. He usually calls in to have a cup of tea and a chat with Dad. He has never done a thing about being my godfather - apart from boast about what he sees as my achievements. That's okay. He just would not know how to do anything else. He is not that sort of person. My godmother still sends birthday cards and Christmas cards...and is still the unflappable person she was when she was a triple-certificated Sister in a hospital aeons ago. I like them both.
After the morning excitement of the parcel there was a short, sharp storm which caused considerable damage in some areas. I had to go out and haul empty rubbish bins on to the footpath from where they had been blown into the centre of the road and then head off to the bookshop. It was knitting afternoon. I nearly did not make it because of the wind.
I was quite convinced there would be nobody but myself and perhaps one other but ten more people turned up and the owner sat down with us for half an hour. I explained how to lengthen the little pullover she had knitted for a grandchild. She said sitting there was a well earned rest after a morning of stocktaking...and we agreed about cruel and unusual punishments for people who deliberately remove stock without paying for it. We both want the bookshop to survive and indeed thrive. If it stops raining long enough this morning I intend to head back and get a book I saw languishing sadly on the sale shelf. It needs a home. I will parcel it up carefully and send it on so that someone else gets a parcel.

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