Nobody seems to send letters anymore.
Late last year and early this year I had struck up a penpalship with my cousins son, but that has since fallen by the wayside. Apparently I am not as exciting as a trip to disneyland or the friends he has school that are his own age. Go figure.
I have this vague recollection that when I was younger I had a penpal too. Right now my brain is telling me it was my great grandmother, but I am not sure.
I feel like I used to write regularly.
And in high school my friends and I used to write pages and pages of notes to each other even though we had spent all day together. But that is not quite the same because those didn’t arrive in the letter box, and instead were passed hand to hand.
Now it’s all emails and instant messaging.
Which is useful I suppose for communication and keeping in touch, but there is something fun and magical about going to the letter box and finding a piece of mail in there just for you. And not a bill, mind you, nothing electronically addressed in a business envelope. But something hand written, preferably in a coloured square envelope.
I reminisce today because this is the sixth day I have been without mail (not including the weekend). It would not be unusual for me to have no personal mail for this long, but I haven’t had any bills either and the book depository parcel I am waiting on is still yet to arrive too.
I would be worried if it weren’t for the extenuating circumstances. I went into the post office today and they said the post wasn’t going to resume until Monday.
It makes me worry for those who don’t have letter boxes though. How will they receive their mail once it resumes again? You can’t forward it anywhere if don’t have a fixed address to forward it to. Could you just pick it up from the post office? Though how would you know which one to go to? There are so many little things you don’t even think of when things like this happen. I hope they all get letter boxes soon.
Coming up on my next blog: Back to books.