Oh my, I'm bad. Sorry. Over the past few days I have realized how much facebook has taken over my life shares. I guess because it's so very easy and accessible. But the days I spent sharing random thoughts and events on this blog page were far more satisfying. A lot of it has to do with time and I hate that. I hate that I forego my writer's passion for quick snippets and banter. But that's just what I've been doing. Ugh. Sorry. Which leads into the topic of this post, because Brooke and I had a conversation about the lost art of writing and the fact that the future may not see cursive as a line item on children's report cards. Oh what a sad art to lose. My heart broke when classes called "art" began to be cut from curriculum as superfluous. Even in Waldorf budgets things sometimes get cut such as woodworking and handwork. But through those sad decisions, learning handwriting remained a constant, dependable art. Now that too?
So, I wonder, "What's to do? What is my part?"
Well I can continue to write real letters delivered by snails. So I went to Micheal's craft store and bought a dozen individual sheets of fun scrapbook paper. One chosen here and one chosen there for each grandchild. And I will write one letter a week, alternating between grandchildren. Pen pals we will hopefully become.
I had a pen pal when I was a young child. I actually had several. My first was through my girl scout troop, a girl my age who lived in Glascow, Scotland: Vera Lowrie (yes, I have Google searched her, not found her, BUT would love to some day!) And then I remember Janet Shaw. I met her and her twin brother, Rick, at an activity center in South Lake Tahoe when I was about 10 or 11. From Janet is where the subject line of this post came. She always wrote little poems on the envelopes (it was a fad in those days and boy was she impressive!). She wote:
I thought it was so cool. Hmmmm. What happened to Janet and Rick Shaw and Wayne and Wanda Brown? Two sets of twins that I spent so many fun summer days with...
Last week when I went to the post office to mail granddaughter Fiona's birthday box the postal angel at a little neighborhood post office did her magic again. She always takes great interest in the package you're sending and does her best to make it extra special for the recipient. On this box she sweetly went into her drawer and chose fun stamps that would be appealing to a child (ok, media characters are not my thing at all but I was open, and oh-so-grateful.) She put half the postage on the package in actual stamps, and then she put on a cupcake stamp, and THEN she colored the flame of the candle yellow with a highlight pen! That was above and beyond sweet. Off my packages go, reminiscent of old time overseas packages with all the colorful postage.
I think I might knit this women a pair of finger-less gloves for her TLC. It's cold in that little post office. But boy, her heart is warm.