Summer Jar: Real Mail
Last week the Summer Jar told us to make cards and mail them. I had some premade blank cards from the days when I fancied myself a cardmaker, so we drew on those. The most fun part was deciding who to send our cards to (excuse me: to whom we should send our cards). Henry chose Miranda, which was no surprise. He decided to write about how excited he is about Farm Camp (which is next week!). He also took the space to spout forth some untruths about Farm Camp, which is that they have live bats. Well, it could be true. I don’t know. The newsletter we got from them was signed by the farmers and also the animals, two of which were Stella and Luna, so Henry has decided they must be bats.
Henry also addressed the envelope himself. I remember working at one of the many, many semi-clerical office jobs I had after college, and giving a high school summer temp a bunch of envelopes to address, and she basically had no idea how to do it. Which means, I suppose, that she had neither sent nor received mail (or not much) up until that point. Shocking! Anyway, so I take it upon myself to explain the joys and wonders of real mail to the children. Coincidentally, we’ve been reading a lot of Frog and Toad stories lately, and there’s that great one where Toad is talking about how waiting for the mail is his “sad time of day” because no one ever sends him mail. And then Frog sends him a letter, and they’re both really happy about mail. So we talked about how our letter recipients would be just as excited to receive real mail.
Eli decided to send his card to a 13-year-old boy down the street, a fairly random choice since I think Eli has talked to him maybe twice ever. But he plays hockey and baseball in the street, and is friendly and nice, and those facts, I think, make him card-worthy in Eli’s mind. I sent my card to Robyn, with whom I used to have a fairly regular real mail correspondence going, but that’s fallen off in the past few years. So she definitely was due. Remember when real mail was the standard, and so we thought nothing of writing a two-sentence, e-mail-esque, goofball letter? Sarah and I used to send each other the ugliest postcards we could find. I also remember spending an afternoon writing and writing, practically extemporaneously, and stuffing pages and pages of scrawled spiral notebook pages into an envelope to send off. Robyn got none of those last week, mostly because I had mild performance anxiety once faced with the blank card and couldn’t think of what to draw, let alone write. I ended up drawing the view out my window from where I was sitting, and honestly I have no idea what I wrote about. It was rambling, I’m sure, which is maybe the best kind of letter in my mind.
And my preferred kind of blog post, apparently.