Sounds ominous hey? Turns out, he was talking about a postcard*. His crime? It was written in German.
I don't know why he has this obsession about me and German. I think he forgets that I can speak and read the language...I think he also forgets those many trips to Germany and Austria, where I have communicated freely with all our relatives, who, for the most part don't speak English. Or maybe he mixes me up with my brother, who as a teanager was sent to German school on Saturdays - and refuses to speak a word of German. Take that parents! I don't blame him for that, though by the by, German school was good for me. I didn't ever have to go and instead I got a set of stickers every Saturday while we waited for class to end. And they weren't just ordinary stickers, but those stickers that you can re-use over and over and over. Digress much?
Anyway, there is a crime that Frank is unaware of. After weeks of the cards non arrival, I asked about the address. He insisted he had got it right.
So today a bundle of mail arrives, all caught up with the not so innocent postcard. Two cards from Afghanistan (well posted in Canberra) and a thank you card from my niece all came together in a bunch. The card on top was from Frank, addressed to me, at a street which just doesn't exist.
The yellow house in the u's street name had been bludgeoned over the head with extra vowels and kicked in the guts with the odd rogue consonent. An extra two 'r's' where an 'm' should have been, an addition of an 'am' (which was a bit of a mystery) and a 'u' where there should have been a double 'o'. What does that spell? Warrambul! Warrambul Crescent to be exact. I live in a street.
* Translation of postcard: We are at the end of our holiday and have had a lovely time and wonderful weather. Yesterday we were in Bellingen and had coffee and scones. Coffs Harbour is still a small city. Hope you are well and that we see you soon.