The stamp album

We've been planning for this for every day since the past couple of weeks. We just had to go and pick up a stamp album together. It was to be a gift for her dad, and my daughter wanted to fill the album with all my husband's stamps before presenting it to him. Two weeks after his birthday.


But hey, our family lives in the Timeless zone. Which is why the owner of the nearby Dry cleaner's gets a shock when we turn up a week late to pick up the clothes. By then, he could easily have changed the name of his shop. Or remarried. But we always got our clothes back.

It's the same with intended places of travel. We intend, for a long time. We shuffle our feet as we watch our favorite TV program. Then my husband tentatively opens his mumble behind long beard: "Um, we should go to XYZ place. Well, his mathematically inclined mind tends to spurt short alphabets (and even signs) every now and then, by way of communication.

Like 'Hey, U'.

Hmm...

Oh, yes, that stamp album. We had globe-trotted in Bangalore (possible, coz' the world is flat any way- according to Friedmanian logic). Nope, no sign of stamp albums. It clearly showed that folks weren't into writing letters and licking stamps any more. Nor did they seem to find time to buy albums. Who leafs through albums anyway, now that we have Picasas and Youtubes?

But we were looking forward to picking out from the zillions of stamps stashed away in envelops and lovingly pasting them in a nice album. And presenting it to daddy dearest.

So like every other day for the past couple of weeks, we carefully planned our shopping. Today, my daughter even invited Vaibhavi (aka Vaibs), her best friend, to help choose the album.

"Do we have lunch first and then shop around?" This came from my daughter.

"I think donuts would be great for a pre-shopping brunch." This came from Vaibs.

"What do I wear? It's 12. noon so maybe a tee shirt would do well." Came from daughter.

"I'd add a sweater for good measure", I added, going all motherly and all.

"Hey did you know 'Hannibal' is running in packed houses?" asked Vaibs, almost in rhetoric. I began to wonder how good young Dr Vaibs was getting at doing post-mortems.

On our way out, Vaibs picked up her guitar as well. Who knows, she said. It might come in handy at the donut shop to add to the funky decor. Or to pick up a few pennies from a nearby hat. Or to bop the head of any geek who couldn't understand our love for earthly stamp albums.

Maybe we'll find one, maybe we won't. There is still tomorrow. And the day after. And the day...