Pomi, Postcards and Postcrossing

” Can I help you Mr. Pomi?”

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” I am looking for my cap.” pomiwat672

” In my chest of drawers?”

” I’ve looked everywhere else.” pomiwat673

” Darling, that’s my ….”. pomiwat666

Pomi did not hear me.  He was diving into one of the drawers pomiwat674 and I heard him rummaging about.

“The cap isn’t here.”

” Of course not.”

” But what’s this?” Pomi resurfaced with a floral box. pomiwat668

” That’s my postcard collection.”

” I didn’t know you collected postcards.”

” It’s not much of a collection yet. There are hardly a hundred postcards.”

” I’m taking this to the living room.”

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Pomi pushed the box through the whole house and dragged it up the table. ”

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Do you need help?” I offered, but did not receive an answer.

Pomi opened the box pomiwat669

and emptied it on the coffee table

pomiwat662.

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” How do you know all these people?”

” I don’t.”

” So how come they wrote to you?”

“Not long ago I heard about postcrossing. A project that allows anyone to receive postcards from random places in the world.  You send a postcard and receive one back. I joined.”

” Why?”

” Because I  am tired of only ever finding bills and advertisements in my mailbox so I decided…” but Pomi was not listening to me anymore he was too busy looking at the postcards.

” There is one from your hometown…pomiwat665  this one looks like a book …

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and there is an Indian chief, pomiwat660a woodpecker  …  a hedgehog … almond blossoms ……  Here is one in a frame. A child on a swing. Your favorite?

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” Yes. That is one of my favorite cards. – You know Pomi, I don’t think we should say Indian chief.”

” Why not?”

” It is not politically correct. ”

Pomi looked puzzled.

” Some people might feel offended, diminished or excluded. ”

” Really?   Who is this card from?”

” Don’t you want to hear more about political correctness?”

” No, I want to hear more about this postcard.”

“That is a card I received from a class of five year olds who learned about different countries.”

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“There are recipes here as well. Buckwheat porridge and … elk stew. Yuk!”

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” The card is upside down Pomi.”

” So is my stomach.”

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Pomi jumped up.  ” I am going to write more postcards”, he shouted and ran upstairs.

When I entered my workroom I saw Pomi’s cap sitting on my  desk.
” That was not there before”, my little crochet darling remarked when I handed him the cap.

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I smiled.

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