Post-Postal-Postage

I've managed to discover something exceedingly wonderful about the internet. It's bringing back old-fashioned mail. People across the world can meet, befriend each other, and send little packets of awesome zipping around the globe.

So far, just from Reddit, I've met amazing people. One sent me dandelion seeds from a plant exhibiting fascinating mutant characteristics, so I can try to grow them myself, and one has purchased an antique safety razor from me, and in return with the payment, sent me my own sample pack of blades. Another gentleman commissioned a dog collar adorned with green sea glass after seeing my handmade necklaces. All of these transactions only occurred because I happened to meet people with similar interests online.

Perhaps in this day and age of 'going postal', of overpaid union members and the collective grumbling for and against that it generates, mail has lost its romantic notions. I tend to disagree. There will always be unhappy people, it's true. But the fact that a handwritten missive can and will find its way to a destination miles away, bringing friendship and camaraderie to people who will never meet in person, is glorious.

For myself, typing has much replaced any handwriting skills I can claim to have possessed, but once in a while, I will square my shoulders, take out some truly lovely stationery, and throw my mind back to penmanship class, so I can send a proper, old-fashioned letter to someone I love. Grandma appreciates it, and usually responds with a teary, "My grand-daughter loves me! I'm so happy, let me buy you an orchid!" sort of phone call. My boyfriend enjoys sitting and reading all the good things that I tell him, as the vicious be-feathered velociraptor his parents claim is a parrot screeches in the background, competing with his equally cold-blooded and vicious sister in a ferocious noise generating competition.

A letter demands a sort of old-fashioned tranquility. You must sit down, relax, and potentially enjoy a cup of tea to read a letter. Letters require a response that cannot be from a text or email. A phone call forces vocal contact. A return letter requires thought, patience, and time. They bring gentility to a hectic modern pace.

Perhaps one day I'll allow you all to write me letters, to see how you've been, what the news is, and who's done what with whom. Maybe I'll send you a reply or two, perhaps a hand-inked invitation to tea. Until then, enjoy.

PS: The garden is lovely, and provides a perfect excuse to listen to the perfidy of the neighbors.