I sat down to write a dozen letter today, plus a few to send later this month for Halloween. To be fair, I didn’t actually write them by hand; I wrote (and sent) them by computer. But they were individual messages, typed into cards chosen specifically for the recipient. And they’ll have real postage stamps.
I love letters, and I probably always will. I’m a paper kind of girl. I suppose by now I’m a paper-loving old lady, but in any case, a personal note can’t be beat.
It reminds me of this post I penned, so to speak, a couple of years back (when postage for a letter was only 44 cents).
Who doesn’t love mail?
Sure, you can find a lot of crap in your mailbox — bills, advertisements, newsletters from your Congressman — but the idea that a handwritten letter might be in there draws you to check the box the first minute the postman, er, letter carrier, steps away from the porch. Or curb. Or vast bank of bland letterboxes.
Email might preoccupy us the same way we used to obsess about snail mail, but the yearning to discover “you’ve got mail” is more intense for a delivery that comes only once a day.
As my postmistress was weighing letters for me this morning, I told her how much I appreciate her. The post office here is as little as the village, and thank goodness, it’s not in danger of closing like thousands of other little post offices across the country as the U.S. Postal Service overhauls its operation…
View original post 304 more words