Looking through old postcards again.
The cards are pretty, and the messages on the back are puzzling.
Now, obviously this is a card that was never mailed. I have lots of these, and I don't know the story behind them. Why did Silvia write a card she never mailed? Why was she sending a postcard to let her father know that she planned to send a card?
The note about hail, though, is a good reminder of how precarious life can be when the heavens can ruin months of work at any moment. Farming is hard today, but it was harder only a few short decades ago.
Speaking of sudden downpours, Neil received a phone call tonight telling him that his temp job has ended. Just like that - don't come in tomorrow. It's only a temp job, but still . . . oh well. It's not actual hail.
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