Carl

I am writing this from the most northerly part of Denmark on this sunny warm day on the 22nd of August.

Today we are working outside- we are seeing the sights in the early part of the day and then getting a half day of work in with a break to see the sunset. Day two. It’s working well.

This morning, I found the post office in the grocery store so I could mail off my postcards to my GEM members. I am so grateful to my Founding Members- I thought of each of them as I went through this amazing art museum and when I got to the gift shop, I bought them each the postcard of the painting I saw that reminded me of them.

Actually, I had also written a postcard to my mom’s best friend who is a very important person in my life ( I got to see her a few days ago), and usually when I send her a card it is, of course, needing an international stamp, but when I went to put her stamp on I realized my mistake ( I needed a domestic stamp since she lives in Denmark). The young woman was a little short with me and did what a few young people have done with me- just do it for you, because perhaps, you are of a certain age and can’t do a stamp. But I thanked her anyway because she chose a stamp with colourful artwork and the word ‘Carl’. “Perfect” I said- “that’s one of this lady’s grandchildren and the one who always accompanied her to the mailbox when she was mailing her daily notes to Canada and to my mom!” Funny that. Of all the stamps she could have chosen.

I thought that I would write this and so I went back to the grocery shop tonight (in search of matches– I always have the candles on, just like at home). There was a different staff person on the desk, so I waited my turn and then asked the young man: “I have a kind of funny question, earlier today your colleague sold me a stamp that had the name Carl on it. It was my Mom’s friend’s grandson’s name who always accompanied her as a young child when she was sending her notes to my mom in Canada. For years. I want to write about that and I am wondering if I could please take a picture of it?” He asked how much I paid for it. I couldn’t remember. He found it in the big book. He started tearing it out along the perforations. I said- “Actually I just want to take a picture I don’t want to buy it.” “Yeah” he said, “I know, I just thought this way it would be on its own and you would get a better picture”. What a kind fellow.

Here’s the picture.