A brief history of stamps.

Several months ago, when Alex and I were in the throes of planning during the winter, I had a dream. I guess it was an anxiety dream, prompted by our contemplation of how to reduce our pack base weight (the weight of the pack without food and water). In my dream, my dad was very generously giving me a bunch of stamps. It seemed like a whole box full of stamps. And all I could tell him was that I really didn’t need stamps, I’d only be able to carry one at a time. Because of their weight and because they’d get soggy. So…I refused his offer of stamps. And that was where the dream ended.

Last week, Alex and I went to Costco to buy large amounts of packaged and dehydrated food. Along one of the isles, I saw something shiny: a cardboard sheet of 100 stamps! And it was $2 off what they are at the post office! And, these ones lasted forever! So we got them, all $40 worth, and planned on putting them in our bump box so we’d only have to carry one or two at a time.

Well, it’s been a week or two since that shopping trip, and we still haven’t found the stamps. We definitely paid for them, but they’re lost, perhaps still sitting in the store, or in the shopping cart, or somewhere in our house. Maybe the basement. That’s a lot of stamps to lose. I did look in the recycling, but no luck so far. And since we’re leaving today, I think we will be without our 100 stamps.

I told Alex’s dad this story today, and he asked if my dad was bringing stamps when he came to say goodbye. Alex and I laughed. When my dad showed up, he brought us a CD for our roadtrip—Mike Seeger playing old time banjo. And he brought an envelope to mail it back in, along with a book of stamps.