Snail Mailing It

Here I am again, almost 11 PM.

Today was another of "those" days. For a while it was looking like it was on a track to be a truly rotten day, though things eventually evened out. It's getting chilly again. Drizzly all day, and we're supposed to be in for more snow later in the week. (When I mentioned that to the driver and other passenger on the bus this morning, they both gave me glares and teasingly suggested I start walking.) Ah, spring.

The highlight of my day was when I came home to a letter. A real letter. I can't remember the last time I got one of those outside of birthday cards. This one was from a friend all the way on the West Coast, in response to a birthday card I sent her a couple weeks ago. That was the first time I bought a stamp for myself, that I can recall. Sad, isn't it? It's been a long time since I've had to mail anything.

I was wandering around the kitchen munching on no-bakes and contemplating a pile of dirty pots when Mom, who'd been painting the dining room, said, "Oh, I forgot. This came for you," and tossed the pink envelope on the ironing board, which was standing in the kitchen. (A piece is broken so the ironing board won't fold up. Hence, it gets shuffled around from room to room depending on space.)

I guessed immediately what the envelope contained, but I still got a smile out of it.

There's something wonderful about sending and receiving handwritten letters.

Maybe if I did it more often I'd be forced to have better penmanship? As it was I labored over those few lines to my old friend. Why is it that proper penmanship can't just come by force of will?

After I mailed that birthday card, I pondered the idea of getting back into sending "handwritten sentiments" by snail mail. I know receiving them certainly cheers me up. Getting a text or an e-mail just can't compare. And now I know how much stamps cost. (I felt funny using my debit card to purchase one stamp, but I didn't know when I'd ever need more.)

I think I'm going to have to cut this one short. Again. The chicks are trying to sleep and I'm clacking away. Also, my dog is making her sad whining sounds in the kitchen. Sometimes I swear she sounds like a baby elephant when she gets to moaning dejectedly.