From Waist Height and Wondering 10

It is hard to explain exactly how important post (mail) is until you have lain in bed with that post being your only contact with the outside world. 

Until the coming of the postman and the bounty of cards, treats, support and succor he brings are your bright spot in a day of pain.

“Wouldn’t it be frightful if one had no sisters, or worse, sisters who didn’t write?”


I was speaking to a friend who said we may be the last generation who write letters and keep them in memory boxes tied up with ribbons.


I can’t believe that.


You must have love letters and keep them in the box with your wedding things. That can’t just be me.  What is more exciting than getting an airmail letter from a loved one? You can’t re-read a phonecall. You can’t slip dried flowers, postcards and treats into an email. I love technology, I’m no luddite. But letters are special. 


This is my posty from one day in the summer. A prize if you recognise your letter to me. Why not write a letter today?