Following on from my card post yesterday got me thinking about Mail.
Hubby and I have a residential mooring here, which means we have the permanent address necessary for the
boring Red Tape required for Taxation, Banking, and proof of existence (ie. a mail box in the laundry with our name on it).
It’s actually handy should a parcel be delivered if we’re not here as it’s signed for in the office and a note put in our box letting us know.
In truth, we don’t get a lot of mail…… other than from the Tax Man, Bank and Council.
I used to love finding a letter on the doormat when it wasn’t my birthday or Christmas.
As a kid, I was always encouraged to write Thank You letters, which I still do actually, and as a school girl, I had penfriends in a variety of countries. I was also a regular at answering articles in the paper for our Service People abroad to get letters from home. Surprisingly, Hubby was in the queue to take such a letter out of the box when he was in The Falklands, but it was the guy in front of him who picked out mine. Small world.
Every year, I write a newsletter to enclose with my Christmas cards, sending them off to my elderly Aunt and an Uncle on my father’s side of the family and an Uncle on my mother’s. I also send to a few friends from my working life, some going back almost 40 years. All of them are of the age when a letter is of special importance, a contact from someone who is not asking for bill payment or donations, even if it is only an annual correspondence.
My postal list is shortened again this year.
Sadly, some special people have now left us, but in the main it’s because I have had no contact from them in over two years.
I purchased a dozen second class and 6 first class stamps a little while ago, and the cost was almost a week’s shopping. But for me, it’s not a costing exercise, but the fact that someone is prepared to take the time to put a few words on paper, seal it in an envelope and drop it in the mail.
It could mean so much.