Dave, spousal unit/mysterious airport gift giver, also does his best to send us postcards from many of the destinations which his business takes him. We always learn something. Before, whenever anyone mentioned “Sweden,” I would think of filmmaker, Igmar Bergman, and of ABBA. Now I can add to this short list, the strapping Swedish royal family. That would be some party, wouldn’t it? 
When Dave calls me our conversations go like this.
“So how’s it going?”
“Ok, I guess. If you like terrible weather. I’m not ready for the meeting and I’ve got a lousy view from my hotel room.”
“But what have you been doing?”
“Nothing. Just sitting around in my room. I could watch television, but all that’s on are creepy black and white Swedish movies. I had to go out to dinner. Nothing that great. Just some Swedish people.”
The Seventh Seal, 1957 Swedish drama
He tries to make me think business traveling stinks. I appreciate that. I can look out the window and make myself feel better, imagining his generic hotel room and him looking out his. I see trees and grass, but he, poor thing, looks out over graffiti covered walls and parking lots. And has to eat dinner and play nice with pale Swedish people, while we call Dominos.
Bless his heart that as rough as he has it, he still goes to the trouble of sending postcards at all. We rarely receive them until after he’s been home a week or two. But unlike many countries, Sweden has an extremely efficient post office. This postcard of the Swedish royal family arrived a mere three days after it was sent. 
Nov.6 2009 Stockholm, Sweden
Hello Ladies, I had a nice dinner with the wonderful family pictured on front. Very fancy. I think there were 7 forks. Came to Stockholm on Tuesday, traveled three hours to Vastervik, back to here last night. Off to South Africa tonight. Phillies 
Love ya, Dave/Dad
When we next speak Dave tells me he was just kidding about eating dinner with the nice family pictured on the card. But he says he was semi-suicidal about the Phillies who had just lost the World Series.
My question is who’s to say what’s true and what isn’t? Can this man or anyone be trusted? Is it too much to ask that he have consistency within the same postcard? Or same phone call?Abba or Igmar, make a choice!
For more postcard fun, head over to chez Marie, The French Factrice. She has a beautiful new design!
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{ 16 comments }
At least your spouse sends you postcards. Mine doesn’t even phone when he gets to do the exotic location trips. I too like to send cards from trips even if I arrive home before they do.
I see you are doing NaNo. I participated the previous two years but passed this year. Just too much going on.
Have a good weekend.
Oh, Margo. I laughed all the way through this marvelous post! Wonderful. Happy PFF!
Hahaha! That was really funny! But yeah, at least he is sending you postcards. That only means he’s thinking of you.:)
Postcards are good, we all agree. at least your husband has a sense of humor. Mine understands jokes but is super serious.
It’s actually so sweet that he sends postcards to you! I like that in spite of all that grueling travel, he maintains his sense of humor!
Hey at least he is not sleeping his way around the world like my father did….
Bad gifts are better than no gifts.
I think it’s sweet that he tries to make you feel good. He could be telling you that it’s SO much fun, and too bad you aren’t there.
Maybe he didn’t go to Sweden at all……
Our 23rd anniversary is Sunday and I’m pretty sure I’m going to keep him. (we were married as very young children)
Coinky dink…our anniversary is today. Close but no cigar, although I’m sure he’ll pick you up some cigars when he’s out and about around the world.
You’ve probably mentioned it before on the blog, but I’m bad about remembering– and just getting caught up with following the blogs I love– what does Dave do for a living? If it’s top secret and you’d rather not say, I understand.
Oh this is so familiar to me, though my guy is Danger Mouse. He actually calls me from satellite phones while hunkered down on the little balconies of hotels in small, dirt cities while some type of ‘troops’ ride by in backs of big trucks with automatic rifles hanging on each of their shoulders. He’s a drama queen. He also calls me from the banks of wild rivers where at any moment a dangerous creature could lunge out of the water and eat him alive or just cause a stump. Oh my. Last winter he was crossing Siberia for 22 hours on the back of a 30-year-old snowmobile in temperatures of about 40 degrees below zero. Hmmm. Is it real or is it Memorex? Well, they come home safely and we are entertained, right?
Fun post!
But you see, he really doesn’t enjoy all that travelling! Regardless of what location he may be in, he’d really rather be home with you, curled up by the fire.
Wonderful post! I used to get the sob stories of mass produced hotels, all identical – and I didn’t even the cards.
Funny, funny… those MEN. They think there so f’n funny.
Postcards and airport gifts forever and ever? You’ve got a prince, my friend. A real prince. And that’s no fiction!
Well, at least he consistently sends the postcards.
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