I got rid of all my old letters (having kept all that I have ever gotten) because my (soon to be ex) boyfriend found them and started reading them. I should have just kicked him out right then instead of continuing the relationship a few more months. Live and learn I guess.
So potholes. I remarked on my pothole experience a while ago, but I didn’t relate this:
Some people started planting small trees in the potholes, and found that tended to get them fixed right away. In New England there are always small tree because squirrels. Lol
Anne Tyler! I love her books. And writing letters, I'm all in. I'm fluent in post office and its procedures and mail at least one card with a hand-written message in its interior, per week. I love sending the written word and believe most love receiving it, too. Your letters to Terry and back are one of the favorite parts of my Wednesdays. Receiving them in my In Box is like seeing a friend at a coffee shop. Same feeling!
Now I understand why loose leaf tea is so flavourful! All those added extras. And I used to write home too when I spent a year working on a remote Australian island. When Mum died I found the stash. Ah the memories…. Letters truly take you back to the time of writing. Just like art - one drawn or painted en plein air piece is worth at least a hundred photographs. Happy sigh.
I laughed at your pothole extravaganza! I agree wholeheartedly about the value of letters-- I wrote a letter to my daughter every six months when she was tiny and then every year on her birthday. I bound them into a book and gave them to her (along with some collected notes to Santa, etc) when she turned 18. In the letters I tried to talk about her favorite activities, new skills and enthusiasms, and endearing qualities.
"I expected to find a ‘blue plague’ being spread across the capital by a reckless writer of my own acquaintance." Thank heaven, another catastrophe averted. Although I imagine a blue plague would not be as significant as a black one? And about those "self healing roads"? How stupid do they think we are? ( Very stupid.) And, regarding "Franglais", it is not something we hear about across here in the US, but we do have tons of speakers of "Spanglish". I hear code mixing all the time, things like, "Abre la window." and "Vamos a pushar el carro." ( Instead of Abre le ventana. and Vamos a empujar el carro.) Those finicky French are going to have to let it go. Nobody cares. It is a big world...
That made me smile a lot, thank you Rebecca! The creative struggle to write letters home, letters preciously kept and ironed, and it reminded me how much I used to love sending and receiving letters, in times very much gone when there was no other option but to write...:)
LOL at that reminder about Rebecca and her exaggeration tendencies 🤣
I got rid of all my old letters (having kept all that I have ever gotten) because my (soon to be ex) boyfriend found them and started reading them. I should have just kicked him out right then instead of continuing the relationship a few more months. Live and learn I guess.
So potholes. I remarked on my pothole experience a while ago, but I didn’t relate this:
Some people started planting small trees in the potholes, and found that tended to get them fixed right away. In New England there are always small tree because squirrels. Lol
I love 1. and 3. at the bottom. Footnotes or footlights for this entertaining letter.
I think a pot hole recount is in order.
There's probably lots of tea at the bottom of Boston Harbor. America will sell it for a fair price. 😉
Anne Tyler! I love her books. And writing letters, I'm all in. I'm fluent in post office and its procedures and mail at least one card with a hand-written message in its interior, per week. I love sending the written word and believe most love receiving it, too. Your letters to Terry and back are one of the favorite parts of my Wednesdays. Receiving them in my In Box is like seeing a friend at a coffee shop. Same feeling!
Now I understand why loose leaf tea is so flavourful! All those added extras. And I used to write home too when I spent a year working on a remote Australian island. When Mum died I found the stash. Ah the memories…. Letters truly take you back to the time of writing. Just like art - one drawn or painted en plein air piece is worth at least a hundred photographs. Happy sigh.
Another lovely read. Thanks so much.
I laughed at your pothole extravaganza! I agree wholeheartedly about the value of letters-- I wrote a letter to my daughter every six months when she was tiny and then every year on her birthday. I bound them into a book and gave them to her (along with some collected notes to Santa, etc) when she turned 18. In the letters I tried to talk about her favorite activities, new skills and enthusiasms, and endearing qualities.
"I expected to find a ‘blue plague’ being spread across the capital by a reckless writer of my own acquaintance." Thank heaven, another catastrophe averted. Although I imagine a blue plague would not be as significant as a black one? And about those "self healing roads"? How stupid do they think we are? ( Very stupid.) And, regarding "Franglais", it is not something we hear about across here in the US, but we do have tons of speakers of "Spanglish". I hear code mixing all the time, things like, "Abre la window." and "Vamos a pushar el carro." ( Instead of Abre le ventana. and Vamos a empujar el carro.) Those finicky French are going to have to let it go. Nobody cares. It is a big world...
That letter delivery story is priceless. A beautiful little piece of history.
And I always get such joy from your enthusiastic chatter to Terry - he certainly gets his money's worth!
Write-on, Rebecca!
That made me smile a lot, thank you Rebecca! The creative struggle to write letters home, letters preciously kept and ironed, and it reminded me how much I used to love sending and receiving letters, in times very much gone when there was no other option but to write...:)
My revenge, I mean reply, is in the post