One of my first jobs, perhaps my first ever job, was as a paper boy. It’s most boys first job. It didn’t pay a fortune, but it could be done in about an hour, early in the morning before school. It was a much better job on a warm summer morning than on a wet, dark wintry morning. I quickly worked out that I was better off leaving my BMX bike at the newagents and running my round. When I was a kid, I could run like Forest Gump. But further. I’m Continue reading
Everyone has their ‘day’ in Mexico. Not just Mums and Dads. Teachers have their day too, although I’m lucky to get anything more than a slice of cake! Not that I’m complaining. I do like a bit of chocolate cake. November 12th is the special day for postmen and postwomen. I know this because of the bit of paper that got pushed under my door today.
Actually, it’s not simply a piece of paper. It’s an envelope. From Veronica, who is apparently our postwoman. She’s hoping for a little propina. In England we call that a ‘tip’. Egyptians say ‘baksheesh’. Scots say ‘not bloody likely ya wee rascal!’ I say, sure. Why not. All the postcards that I’ve been sending around the world made it to their final destination. And no mail we’ve been expecting has gone missing this year. I think. To top it all off, the Mexican postal service rebranded itself this year with a new pink, white and green livery which has brightened up their offices and motorcycles no end. I can part with 20 pesos, for dear Veronica.