ramblings from an arkansas farm girl
Lewis Carroll said, “Man is an animal who writes letters.” Last year I vowed to write 52 handwritten letters. Seemed like a fabulous idea at the time. A few people have asked me how I did with my letter writing. My answer depends upon whether you are a half-full or half-empty sort of person.Continue Reading
Write more, Love more. This tagline is printed on the window of Shindig Paperie in Fayetteville, Arkansas, and what a great tagline it is. My new quest to write 52 letters in 2015 gave me the perfect excuse to visit. This well-curated shoppe filled with all things paper is located downtown just off the square. Downstairs. There’s something about a downstairs business (in a historic building—look at those bricks!) that makes for an intriguing shoppe rather than just another run-of-the-paper-mill store.
Oh my heart did a little flip flop when I walked into this place. (Dallas crafty obsessed friends: it’s like a cozier version of Paper Source at Northpark…)
Cards and paper and pens and calendars and postcards and teeny tiny clothespins I’ve been wanting forever (because certain projects beg for them) and I could go on and on.
LOOK at this notepad I found.
How do I love this paper made by Sugarboo Designs? Let me explain the ways—from the old-fashioned notebook paper it’s printed on to the pre-printed inspirational messages at the bottom. Each page includes a perforated stub. Tear off and scatter into the world as you please...tuck one under a pillow or inside a lunchbox, throw one on a dashboard or sneak it into a pocket, string onto a gift or hide inside a book, roll it up and float it out to sea. Anything is possible – Anything can be!
Neat, right?
Three weeks into January, and I’m on track with my #52Letters project. I’ve mailed three handwritten letters:)
“Let your heart dance with pen and paper
Now fill the paper with dancing letters.”
― Debasish Mridha
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
[tweetthis]Let your heart dance with pen and paper. @ShindigPaperie #52Letters2015 #writemorelovemore[/tweetthis]
P.S. This is not a sponsored post, but I wish it was!
Musical Pairing:
Build Me Up Buttercup, The Foundations
When did you last receive a letter? A real, handwritten letter delivered by the postman?
Last month, I received a letter from a friend who lives near Waco, Texas. Years ago when I was a Baylor college student, we worked together at a law firm in town. My job was part-time—a few afternoons each week and every Saturday morning. I typed legal documents, filed papers with the County Clerk, that sort of thing. Edith, my co-worker, was older, wiser, a full-time employee. She became my mother away from home and we became friends, exchanging Christmas cards even now. But, we haven’t seen each other in over twenty years.
Last month, I received a real, honest to goodness letter from Edith. And it wasn’t one of those Christmas newsletters. It was a letter about her family and an update on the attorneys we worked with.
I loved it.
Once upon a time, I wrote lots of letters. Letter writing was something people did. Routinely.
Back in the 1970s, my Australian pen-pal and I wrote to one another for years. It was called airmail. A cool thing when the world felt gigantic and I lived in the middle of a cotton field.
Even during summer cheerleading camp (which only lasted one week), my friends and I packed notebook paper and envelopes and stamps so we could mail letters home. We usually made it back to Mississippi County before the exciting news of our spirit stick win. We’ve got spirit, yes we do…
Momma and Nana wrote letters to me at college. I wrote back each week. Long-distance telephone calls were expensive, and those meaningful letters from home often kept me going.
Today, I have a box in my closet filled with priceless handwritten letters, letters spanning my lifetime so far—from my fourth grade classmates who wrote to me when I was in the hospital to letters my own children sent home when they were away at summer camp.
My how things have changed.
And what about love letters? I love you, do you love me? Text 1 for yes and 2 for no? Not quite the same, is it?
Since 2015 is my year to focus on writing, I’ve decided to add letter-writing to my repertoire. One letter a week. To someone. A friend. A family member. A shut-in. Anyone who might want to receive something other than bills and junk mail. A regular, handwritten letter.
I may even try my hand at those wax seals folks used back before envelops self-sealed.
I’m starting today with a hand-written letter to my Waco friend, Edith. Since I’m getting a late start (2nd week of January and all), I’ll send out another letter before the end of the week. Then one a week (that’s my goal) for 2015.
52 letters this year.
What do you think? Want to join me in my letter writing quest?
If you know someone who would like to receive old-fashioned mail, send me their name and address, and I’ll add them to my list.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
[tweetthis]When was the last time you received a handwritten letter?[/tweetthis]
Musical Pairing:
Please Mr. Postman – The Marvelettes
