Penpal

I have a penpal!  Everyone in my household was buzzing last week when I received a personal letter (a piece of correspondance that does not contain ads or bills, in case you are not familiar with the concept).  My kids and husband each separately asked me if I got the "personal letter" from the dining room table.  It was a generous little gift of thoughts committed to paper from Wife Mother Expletive.   I used to receive several letters a week from my best friend, friends from university, from camp, from weekend retreats.  It was pre email and facebook and if there was a want to connect, that was the only way to do it.

Even though I read Wife Mother Expletive's posts on a regular basis, it is a whole other pleasure to read words formed by ink that was warmed in the writer's hand on the way out into the world as ideas and words incubated in their one unique brain.  It reminded me about how much I value mail and am merely anesthetized by endless posts and texts.  Ink is warm, it is a product of a living process.  When we receive mail, we receive proof that we exist in a real world, full of budding plants and rotting compost.