Flash Back

My word , how the day flashes past when one is having fun.
My diary is uncharacteristically full this week and today it was a protracted coffee with a new friend almost young enough to be my daughter.
It never fails to amaze me that I always see my children as grown up children whereas I see other people’s children of about the same age as bona fide adults.

On my walk later I passed this gate as I have done many times, but each time, looking at it, it seems so familiar because in my childhood, letterboxes on gates like this were common place and envelopes correspondingly small.
Some people still have letterboxes on their doors so tiny that it would be hard going to deliver a post card far less a modern business letter or document.