Six letters and notecards were posted today. Yes, I drove all the way over to our post office on Park Row. I have visited two other post offices since my last visit to "our" own, because they seldom have enough of any one stamp--old or new. Even ordering online takes longer now. But hey, snail mail saved the day.
Sunlight pulled me from my perch in front of the window in the room where I write. First weak, then stronger, it pulled like a magnet. I grabbed my mail stack, my canteen, phone and keys, and it was off to the races. Ten minutes in . . . rain
fell dropped. I drove out from under the cloud; all was dry by the time I parked. And, lo! there was mail. Good mail. Dream mail.
I wished for a letter from Cuba after the president broke down the invisible wall that separated us. Perhaps I even mentioned it here? The mail fairies got busy, and here I am. I mean, here it is! I've seen this image before. The shawl is memorable. Alexis' family did a proper translation for me; my Spanish is weaker than moonshine is strong. Online translators said the same thing they did, but words often translate into more than they say on paper. It's like the dream I had when I took a nap. A nap! A siesta. I was lost in a huge hospital; elevators didn't work, there were dead ends, detours; the person I was with got lost . . . The images are quite clear, even now, but I don't know what they mean.
This is just as interesting. According to the cancelation stamp, it took some time to cross the sky blue waters. The mark is stamped so hard it left an impression on the card within. I pored over my treasure. See? I know "CORREOS DE CUBA" means "Post office of Cuba."
The word-by-word translation is:
Thank you, dear Google.
Aha! I have the perfect postcard to send in return!