I am excited by the simple things in life.
I am always delighted to receive a piece of mail with a hand-written address. I usually stop in the post office lobby and carefully tear into the envelope making sure I don't damage the real stamp in the corner. I don't get many pieces of mail with hand lettering on the front.
In my youth there were more and they were treasured to such a degree they are probably still in a box in the basement.
I don't write physical letters, I would like to. I have one friend who sends out cards, she remembers birthdays, buys cute return address labels and has beautiful penmanship. She is a writer and whether it is a habit or a practice she does something I would like to do.
My hand writing was never really beautiful, but it has become a quick hybrid of printing and writing not many can decipher. I do put pen to paper on a regular basis taking notes for articles, writing down ideas for stories and making lists to keep my brain on track.
I don't know many people who write frequently and the notes at the post office I get excited about are rare. Even cheques are rare in this world of direct deposit.
Getting the mail is an active endeavour in a small town. While living in the city all I had to do was open the front door and reach into the box. Here I have to make an effort to pick up the bills and sometimes it doesn't seem worth the effort.
I wonder if I would be happier to open my power bill if it was hand addressed and started out "thank you for using power, keeping the lights burning late into the night and leaving your computer plugged in."
I still treasure cards and have seen how excited my children get when they receive a letter of any kind, even junk mail.
I do mail post cards. Vacations give me more time to jot a quick note and most resorts and hotels make it easy to find an outgoing mail box. I'm sure I would write even more if I had more vacation opportunities.
Over the last couple of decades I've received many lovely e-mails. I appreciate and save them as well. They just don't take up as much space and when a computer crashes they usually disappear.
I still run up to the post office and open my e-mails with a sense of anticipation. I guess what really matters is the words in whatever matter they arrive, but real mail will always be my favourite. I suppose I should dig out some cute stationary, practise my penmanship and be part of the cycle.
