postcards

For a few years I sent my mother a postcard each week. My life was not nearly exciting enough to provide a real letter's worth of news and my mother wanted something more than a phone call. At first she was disappointed with mere postcards but, as they piled up, she got so she liked looking at the pictures on them as well as reading them.

Since Mom is no longer around I have a big stack of postcards and no one to send them to.

Actually, I think I'll crank up my postcarding. I sent three today -- one to my brother & his wife, one to an old high school buddy, and a third to my stepmother. I got good at saying just a few things. My letters have tended to the long-winded, which was one of the reasons I got to dread writing them. A postcard, rather like a sonnet, say, is a severely limited plot on which to set up a garden. One can, nevertheless, say something of substance and it's fun to see what.