April 9, 2019
November 11, 2017
My custom when arriving in a new city has become finding a post office. I need postcard stamps so I can send cards to Elsie and Linus. That is the way we used to share our travel experiences before email, Facebook, Twitter, etc. The grandchildren love getting mail and they can make up stories from the pictures.
So first morning in Auckland I pick up a map from the front desk and locate the post office. A short walk later I am asking a young man for postcard stamps for the US. He wants to know where I am from , who I am writing, where I have been, how long I will be in Auckland, I was glad not to be in any rush and no one was in line behind me.
Finally he asked what I wanted again. I said stamps and he asked, do you want Christmas stamps? Christmas? "Isn't it early for Christmas?" I asked. He looked at me like I was nuts and asked if we celebrated the same date as New Zealand. Then I realized it is November. I was standing there in my shorts and t-shirt and sandals, hot and sweaty, and as much as my head understood the facts, my body was telling me that it could not be time for Christmas or winter.
I wonder if a great deal of what we "know" is actually what we feel rather than from the reality. What we are used to, what makes sense to our senses has a lot of influence in what we think. Maybe when I get to the mountains on the south island and get cold it will all make sense to me. Or maybe not.