My father-in-law spent about 80 percent of his time doing things that take little effort today. Here's an entry from his journal, dated February 27, 1971:
"I wrote Mrs. Sterna a letter last evening and so, since Arlene has to mail her package to her mother, a cotton embroidered dressing gown, because the U.S. has just put an embargo on cotton goods and the stores can't mail them, we went to the post office on Calle Independencia and Belen. The process of mailing the gown, though cumbersome, was not as bad as Spain. We first went to the postal aduana, which is luckily located in the same building as the post office, and there got the package weighed and told, how much postage would be required (weight seven tenths of a kilogram and postage, airmail of 23 pesos, or just under two dollars). We had to go next to the post office to buy the stamps. Then we were sent back to the same man at the aduana again with a small green declaration ship, asking the contents of the package, its weight, and its value. We filled that out, but had, first, to go to a specialist who has glue and sticks the green form on the package since the form has no glue on it. Then to our first man again, who laboriously filled out a form giving both addresses, the nature of the contents their value, etc., and then he gave us a stub. The mind boggles at what one would have to go through in case the package got lost and one tried to trace it or to get a refund for its value."
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