Counter

We made a trip to the dam yard for firewood and scrabbled to get to the post office for closing time. I didn't have any business there myself, but didn't want to miss the opportunity for a little rest up in the warm. I took a back seat in the waiting area and tried out the complimentary reading glasses while my daughter took a turn at the counter. Sad to find that I am beginning to need visual assistance for close up work. Amazed at the state of the hands in their winter mode. Not sure if they are more or less human, but certainly primitive.

After sticking the drawing into the cyber pass I wondered whether it would make any visual sense to a noncombatant, not to worry.

The chaps behind the counter at our local branch always seem to get something wrong when we go, they don't appear to have much of a sense of numbers, or indeed a solid grasp of writing, but they have their pensions to look forward to. I can imagine my daughter giving them doubtful glances when they make booboos. I don't spot the writing problems as I too am a little wanting when it comes to literacy. I stayed out of the way in case they got the impression that I was coercing the young lady into making her transactions, but I stay above water and monitor the goings on, so when they announce the wrong numbers I too raise an eyebrow.

For those not up on the Nippon cuture, the vague red symbol at top left denotes a post office, there is a sign on the building and maps bear the same mark at the relevant points.