ALEXANDER, Man. – Toronto commuters would be envious of Judy Watt, the postmaster of this small, friendly community west of Brandon, Man.
A doorway connects her kitchen to the post office, allowing her to get to work in one small stride. Her Siamese cat, which has a fetish for carbon-copy paper, often accompanies her to work.
From behind the wicket, Watt greets the locals as they drop in to post a letter or check for mail. She grew up in the Alexander area and has been its postmaster since 1979.
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“You can spend a lot of the day just visiting,” said Watt, referring to the steady trickle of people who stop in for mail each day. “I think that just comes with the job.”
A picture hangs in the post office showing what it looked like in 1892. Not much has changed about the building’s outer appearance, which remains one of the dominant structures on Alexander’s main street.
Watt and her husband live in the east wing of the building, which is clad in white shiplap. Another residence is in the west wing and the post office sits in the middle. During a midwinter’s day, country music drifts from a radio, providing a relaxed atmosphere.
Most of the letter boxes are antiquated at this post office, lending some character to the landmark building. A community bulletin board serves notice of upcoming events such as a curling bonspiel and a meeting at the Alexander United Church.
Christmas is the busiest time of the year, when area residents are sending and receiving parcels, letters and cards. The flow of mail seems to even out the rest of the year, she said.
First class mail accounts for the bulk of materials passing through the post office. With a twinge of regret, Watt noted that the volume of letters has dwindled somewhat in the past two decades, but flyers, magazines and newspapers add to the daily flow of items.
Parcels are also dispatched through the post office, but generate less revenue than the flyers and first class mail.
Alexander has had only five postmasters in a history that spans more than a century. Watt appears ready to stay at the position until retirement.
“My husband and I are true, blue Alexanderites,” she said, describing her attachment to the community.
She is the fourth generation of a family that has its roots deeply embedded in the local prairie soil. Her father was a grain farmer who raised registered Clydesdale horses.
Watt reflects on what it would be like to live on a farm again. But that whimsical thought soon vanishes to make way for more practical considerations.
“I think it would be a neat life,” she said. “But the way farming is now, I don’t know if I’d want to or not.”
Watt resumes the task of sorting mail. With the carbon-copy paper safely stashed out of her cat’s reach, it was promising to be another peaceful day at this rural postal outlet.
