Dear Greer...

I don't like to whinge, but I think this task might be a bit oriented towards the Tale of Three'ers who aren't actually living at home. Postcards are meant for people who are away to send to people back home, not for those at home to send to others at home. If you know what I mean. Yes, there's something romantic and a bit retro about an economically worded card, scrawled on and stamped and popped in the post.  A brief note to a lover. A quick hi to an old pal. But to be perfectly honest, all the people who I probably need to get in contact with deserve far more than just a postcard - they need a letter or a card (maybe one of the gazillion birth announcement cards I had printed after Pearl and Stella were born) or even a good old-fashioned phone call. But the truth is, I'll probably email them or write on their Wall at some point. So, yes, while I get the underlying purpose of this task, I am struggling with it a bit. I'm not sure who to write to. And I realise now that I've never really needed postcards except when I've been away somewhere, because damned if I could actually find one to buy in the past week. Don't people travelling to Sydney buy postcards to send to their families back home?

In the end, I came at it in reverse. I was in Dymocks today buying a Christmas present (Christmas comes early in our family this year) when, on the way to the counter to pay, I noticed a lonely fragile postcard stand in a dusty corner. I dashed over, hoping to find something a bit more art and a bit less tourist, but it was all tourist. I paid my 50 cents and left, wondering who the hell would be the recipient. And then, glancing at that glorious harbour vista, it came to me.

Many years ago in another lifetime, I was working in a hostel in Berlin and a pair of American brothers came to stay for a few days. Ernie was a fair bit older than Cameron and, if I remember correctly, was treating his little brother to a trip around Europe to celebrate his graduation. Most of the guests stayed in dorms but Ernie and Cameron shared a double room known as the honeymoon suite - something we found hilarious at the time. They were lovely guys, lots of fun and we parted with promises to keep in touch.

Anyway, we didn't, but years later Ernie and I reunited through the magic of Facebook, and that was how I learned Cameron was coming to Sydney on his honeymoon. I met up with him and his new wife down by the harbour one sunny morning in 2008 and had a lovely catch-up. Then a few months later I got a message from them saying their honeymoon had been far more productive than they'd planned, they were expecting a baby, it was a little girl and would I mind terribly if they named her Greer. 

With the Sydney postcard in my hands today, it occurred to me that little Chicago Greer (as I've come to know her) is turning two next month, and as she was conceived in this city and named after one of its most upstanding citizens, perhaps I should drop her a line. 

Happy birthday, Greer! I haven't sent the postcard yet but it's on the list!