Love getting Christmas cards and letters. Every Christmas I wait anxiously for the first one to arrive. I know emails are easier but I value knowing that my friends have gone to a bit more trouble, just for me.
Today I posted a few cards and letters myself. More to do tomorrow.
I have a routine.
First, comes the gigantic task of writing the Christmas letter. Aaaargh! It seems like the fiftieth epistle to the Romans or something. What to include? What to gloss over? Photos are essential. Two pages, printed back to back, with a festive border.
Next is the card writing, envelope addressing, decorating, and so forth. I do try to be quite ethical in my choice of cards. Handmade is best. Charity cards are next. Purchases from op shops are considered ethical because the profits are not lining the pockets of tycoons. Cards for overseas friends are always tricky. They should have been posted weeks ago anyway.
Of course, I ran out of stamps. Had to buy a roll of 100. I seal my letters so I am not interested in the discounted Christmas rate.
Already we have a string of cards pegged across the window. Letters came with every one.
I freely admit that when the children were little I hoarded favourite cards from relatives and friends and displayed them year after year. Handmade and special. But the children grew older and discovered my deceit. Some of those cards are stashed in a drawer now. My memories. My heart strings.