Punch Bowls, Postcards

Halfway through the party, when tangerine peel has started to litter surfaces and there are more dirty glasses than clean, but before the crowds have started to thin, I start a conversation with G and H, friends of C's I have just been introduced to. We start talking about 'old things'. They admire the punch bowl that S bought me at auction and which is now sitting in pride of place on the table. It turns out G has a blog, based around old postcard messages, so I take them to my room to see a couple of old postcards I have picked up recently (I also start showing them my dressing table, re-upholstered nursing chair, 1960s party forks, rotary dial telephone and so on -possibly a little too enthusiastically, but they seem to be on the same wavelength...). On Monday G sends me the link to his blog, Postcardese and I spend the tail end of my late shift at work scrolling through the archives.

Fascinating.

Old postcard after old postcard that G has collected, and each with a story, or a hint of a story that leaves me longing for answers, for a fleshing out of skeletal narratives. This is partly frustrating, that one can but speculate, yet also, in this age of relentless status updates intrusive media coverage, a small respite, and I am glad that there are some areas where room for the imagination is preserved. This one and this one made me laugh, and this one gave me a lump in my throat, but they are all so very intriguing.

If you have a moment, have a look.