Snail Mail, E-Mail, Forwarding to You . . .

Just popping in quickly to say that I’ve posted another newsletter on Substack — apologies to those of you who are getting duplicate notifications because you’ve subscribed in both places. (And thank you — I really appreciate your support!)

I’d love you to pop over to Substack to read it (and you really need to see the postcard my Then 5-year-old grandson sent me during the Covid lockdown). Here’s an excerpt:

I’ve been thinking about hand-written, letter-box-deposited, carried-by-post messages. Both in tandem with, and in contrast to, the instantaneous messaging — texts or emails — we’ve been using over the last few decades — even as we’ve increasingly abandoned or surrendered or limited our use of phones to connect voices and ears across distance. Even as we pay amounts that would once have seemed outrageous for the potential privilege (among many, I concede) of speaking on those same phones (for which not inconsiderable sums have also been spent).

First, my thinking was jostled when my sister and my daughter texted me last week, separately; each text included a photo of a postcard I’d sent from Marrakech mid-November, last year. Let’s not assume that the tardiness had much, or anything, to do with the Moroccan postal service — rather, a Canada Post labour dispute had begun a day or two before I mailed the cards and shut down mail processing and delivery for over a month. Don’t assume, either, that I’m complaining about the tardiness. Rather, I’m embracing it for the purposes of today’s letter to you because it emphasizes that gap of time and distance between the Writing Sender and the Reading Receiver.

I’ve written elsewhere about my predilection for hand-written missives that travel via the postal system to arrive in my mailbox (this post on my old blog, for example — more posts if you click on the blog Heading (Materfamilias Writes) and then enter “snail mail” in the search box/magnifying glass icon). Retirement, followed within a year by a move away from longtime community, brought me back to the satisfactions of letter-writing, but it was the year or so of Covid restrictions that had me averaging perhaps a letter or postcard a week. I’ve slowed down as life returned to its busier pace, but being away from home for four months last year, I sent cards and postcards as never before!

I’ve included snippets from correspondence with grandkids and a sketch from my Moroccan travel journal, descriptions of memories that got squeezed into postcards. I hope you enjoy it and perhaps share your own experience in the comments over there.

In other news (trying my best to ignore the horrible News, because it almost shut me down this morning) it’s bread-baking day today, and then we’re going to take our new car for a drive. I was very comfortable behind the wheel of our 23-year-old Honda Civic, and I’m anxious about adapting to an all-digital experience. I’m an analogue-preferring, window-winding, heel-dragging dinosaur who has driven only Standard Transmission/stick shift for about 50 years. Now we’ve gone electric (but no worries, we did not purchase That electric car!), and there’s a big learning curve ahead. . . .

ok, that’s the best I can do today, my darlings,

xo,

f

p.s. If you, like Dottoressa, are unable to leave comments over at Substack, feel free to come back and leave them here. But also, if you have any suggestions that might allow others having this problem to leave their comments and likes over on that platform, we would much appreciate the help.