Now that triggers a fond memory. Back in the 50's, 60's
and 70's I guess postage was a bit cheaper than it is today. Literally hundreds
of cards arrived at our house. It wasn't that we were some real important
people or something I think that it was just a different time back then. People
had more time. How many had a stay at home mom like mine? I know for sure that
she was the one who ended up signing all of those cards that were sent out from
our house.
Back to the fondness of the cards because it was actually
when the card arrived in the mail box. Oh my sister and I would run to get the
mail each day but of course only mom could open them up. But it was my sister
and I who got to hang them up. Starting with the back of the coat closet door.
Thin cord was thumb tacked on the left side and stretched across to the right
side and thumb tacked again. With real old fashioned thumb tacks not these new
fangled push-pins. Row upon row went down the door. When the cards arrived we
would all look to see who it came from and then gently slipped it over the cord
for all to see for the entire season. Oh there must have been at least 15 or so
rows. When the closet door was filled, we went to the back of the front door
and proceeded to continue the same stringing and hanging. Just when you would
think that we had received our last card more would come. Where to hang now?
Well right over the front windows, up near the ceiling we could stretch another
long string. But this time we waited for dad to hang the card because he was
the tallest in the house to reach that high.
It makes me smile to remember how this simple act of receiving
a card, stringing and hanging could cause such a fond memory. I wish that I
would have taken some pictures of those colorful doors.
Until our next appointment…remember with fondness