For decades, my friend AR sent me notes. No matter where I lived, I received mail without fail from her feisty and persistent soul. My return rate was dismal. I waited for a large pocket of time and appropriate postage to cosmically align themselves and they never did. My failure rate weighed me down until I paid attention to the details. They felt like the longest letters, but often they were no more than a sentence or two. Clearly the love enclosed made the notes seem like they took more than the five minutes AR needed to pop it in the post.
AR is still the Queen of Mail, but I am now her loyal subject and return her love with cards of my own. I think our unwritten agreement is that she mostly writes them to me and I mostly make them for her. It is a mutually beneficial arrangement of the symbiotic sort. I always knew I was a clown fish.
Anyway, I’ve been making stationery on my refurbished 1913 Chandler Price letterpress printer. I’ve also been setting up online shops in my quest to learn new skills while shouting at my kids to get out of the road, down from the trees, and in some clothes. Sheesh. It hits 60f and all they want to do is strip. But I digress.
Even if you don’t buy mine, please take five minutes to write a note to someone. Even a post-it note. Even someone to whom you can just hand your note, so that you don’t have to remember a stamp. Because all that love you stuff into a sentence or two counts.
With love and thanks, to AR.