February 14 is Valentine's Day. Of course, I realise that as reminders go, this is pretty dreadful as it is now March 11. If you had forgotten to send a card to your beloved, or admired, it is now woefully late.
No, I mention this fact, because, ever since I joined the telecommunications industry, Valentine's Day has usually fallen during Mobile World Congress, probably the biggest tradeshow for our industry.
Of course, it used to be called GSM World Congress and happened in Cannes, then the name evolved to 3GSM World Congress to reflect changes in technology and now, avoiding any partisan suggestions from the name, we have Mobile World Congress, or MWC to the cognoscente. And for the last few years it has been held in Barcelona.
But such detail is not essential for this tale. All you really need to know is that, for the last few years, I have not been at home to swap Valentine's cards or affections on the day. My darling wife has made a point of sneaking a card into my luggage before I travelled and I looked forward to finding and opening it on the day. But this year, unusually, I was not at home before MWC and so instead she mailed it to my apartment.
For my part, I had arranged for a card to be delivered through Moonpig (thoroughly recommended) as well as roses and chocolates from Marks & Spencer (also recommended). But when I called home that evening, my beloved was somewhat distressed to hear that her card had not arrived in time for me to take it with me. Of course, I don't need a card to know that she loves me (though I recommend to male readers they they don't try the same line if they forget to send such tokens to their beloved). But, we both assumed that the card had been lost in the post and thought no more about it.
So, I was a little surprised to find this card on my doormat this evening when I got home from work. I guessed at once from the colour of the envelope that it was the missing Valentine's greeting. But what I hadn't expected was the inked stamp above the address (parts of which I have masked for reasons of privacy). It says "MISSENT TO THAILAND".
My wife trained as a teacher and has, at least to my eyes, clear and atttractive handwriting. But someone, presumably in the Royal Mail sorting office in Southampton where the card was franked on February 8, decided that my card was intended for Thailand, rather than Finland.
Though I am rather jealous that the card had a rather more exotic journey than I did in February, I would not want to be the postal worker now facing the wrath of my Mrs!
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Sunday, March 07, 2010
A sight for thaw eyes...
This is the scene in Senaatoori this afternoon. I've been walking through the square for weeks enjoying the snowmen's playground. This is all that remains - almost all of the carrot noses and other decorations are gone.
I particularly enjoyed the alternative snow art, on the steps up to the cathedral, you can see that someone has carefully swept the snow away to form a question mark. Was this intended to have a deeper meaning, calling in to question the very nature of belief at the foot of this monument to religious observance? Or just a bit of a laugh after one Koff too many? I leave you to draw your own conclusions.
As I walked home, the idea of a nap to sleep off the wonderful brunch at Crustum was becoming more appealing, until I saw the workmen outside my building. I could't get in through the front door because of their work, this was the scene from my balcony. The one on the left has a jackhammer, breaking up the frozen snow and ice from the pavement, his colleague is moving it to a pile on the road. They have stopped now, but I have no doubt that the digger and truck will be along later to take it away to wherever they take the snow from the city. From discussion over brunch, it appears that none of us know where that is. Stay tuned for the next episode of my investigations!
I particularly enjoyed the alternative snow art, on the steps up to the cathedral, you can see that someone has carefully swept the snow away to form a question mark. Was this intended to have a deeper meaning, calling in to question the very nature of belief at the foot of this monument to religious observance? Or just a bit of a laugh after one Koff too many? I leave you to draw your own conclusions.
As I walked home, the idea of a nap to sleep off the wonderful brunch at Crustum was becoming more appealing, until I saw the workmen outside my building. I could't get in through the front door because of their work, this was the scene from my balcony. The one on the left has a jackhammer, breaking up the frozen snow and ice from the pavement, his colleague is moving it to a pile on the road. They have stopped now, but I have no doubt that the digger and truck will be along later to take it away to wherever they take the snow from the city. From discussion over brunch, it appears that none of us know where that is. Stay tuned for the next episode of my investigations!
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