Have not received a postcard
 

We no longer send each other postcards. Email, sms-ki, ICQ, Skype, agents - is yes ... Here's how to open the mailbox - and there is a postcard from relatives in Transbaikalia, called up a half years ago, saw - seven or eight to the one uncle Misha's son's wedding. Corners dented postcards, flew half the country, and you're standing right in the box in the hallway and read the plain line score a bunch of stamps. And the smile she appears, it is nice ...

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Found in his "distant Archive folder of postcards, a few thousand - podvybral Coy then, sorted out. Happy viewing.
Pre-revolutionary postcards.

The end of the thirties, forties.
It was only recently allowed except for celebration NY bourgeois relic.

And the war also wrote.
And reach postcards.

More copies of the military.

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Black and white postcards 50-60s.

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More fifties.

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And this is the sixties.
Changing time, there were colors.
Postcards were generally a reflection of our everyday life - how to dress, which gave what was on the holiday table.

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And then in our life appeared cosmos.

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Space on the postcards was operated for a long time, he was our chief pride, along with ballet and hockey.

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Another pole was our pride.
Well, who among us once in your life would not brag that your father - one of those brave bearded men, scattered over a tiny polar stations between Tiksi and Queen Maud Land? ..

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Olympic Bear.
In the early eighties, he was everywhere.
On clothing and in cartoons, on packages and in newspapers.
Well, on postcards, of course.

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A new era.
VIA, "time is buzzing BAM", hang gliders, Komsomol construction ...

Black and white postcards 50-60s.

More fifties.

And this is the sixties.
Changing time, there were colors.
Postcards were generally a reflection of our everyday life - how to dress, which gave what was on the holiday table.

And then in our life appeared cosmos.

Space on the postcards was operated for a long time, he was our chief pride, along with ballet and hockey.

Another pole was our pride.
Well, who among us once in your life would not brag that your father - one of those brave bearded men, scattered tiny polar stations between Tiksi and Queen Maud Land? ..