I am all for hand-written letters. I grew up in the tropical boonies and when I left my parents at an early age it was drilled into me: WRITE.
I did.
My father has the most beautiful handwriting ever. I have tried in vain to copy his handwriting style and for a long time I have wished for certain chosen words in his writing to become transfixed as permanent ink on my skin. His writing is overly unique & elegant and one day it will grace one of my forearms as a tattoo.
When I was a teenager the parental unit bought me a Parker fountain pen that my classmates during high school loved to borrow: It was so well-seasoned that it was like butter in your hands when writing. I vividly remember going to the local stationary store and buying the ink cartilages and ultimately my devastation when the housing of my trusted writing device broke. Seventeen years later I still have it in my possession and for over a decade I've wanted to replace the broken bits.
Over time my diligent letter writing went downhill. Correspondence became sporadic and email replaced delicate stationary and indigo ink. In 2012 I decided to start afresh and picked up the pen again. Postcards and letters filled with love were sent from Egypt, N-Ireland, Holland, Mexico, Aruba and now Jordan.
Every month the main head office brought me handwritten letters from my friends and family. I would jump up and down with excitement, run to the nearest hammock and immerse myself in the words on the pages. It provided an almost physical link to my loved ones and (I'll admit it!) I smelled the pages and held the envelopes close to my heart.
The Mexican and Aruban mail were notoriously unreliable and some letters were either months delayed or took a detour; others never made it. Jordanian post is smooth in comparison. Try it and write to me.
I will send you one back and when you close your eyes and hold the envelope close it will hopefully put a smile on your face.
I did.
My father has the most beautiful handwriting ever. I have tried in vain to copy his handwriting style and for a long time I have wished for certain chosen words in his writing to become transfixed as permanent ink on my skin. His writing is overly unique & elegant and one day it will grace one of my forearms as a tattoo.
When I was a teenager the parental unit bought me a Parker fountain pen that my classmates during high school loved to borrow: It was so well-seasoned that it was like butter in your hands when writing. I vividly remember going to the local stationary store and buying the ink cartilages and ultimately my devastation when the housing of my trusted writing device broke. Seventeen years later I still have it in my possession and for over a decade I've wanted to replace the broken bits.
Over time my diligent letter writing went downhill. Correspondence became sporadic and email replaced delicate stationary and indigo ink. In 2012 I decided to start afresh and picked up the pen again. Postcards and letters filled with love were sent from Egypt, N-Ireland, Holland, Mexico, Aruba and now Jordan.
Every month the main head office brought me handwritten letters from my friends and family. I would jump up and down with excitement, run to the nearest hammock and immerse myself in the words on the pages. It provided an almost physical link to my loved ones and (I'll admit it!) I smelled the pages and held the envelopes close to my heart.
The Mexican and Aruban mail were notoriously unreliable and some letters were either months delayed or took a detour; others never made it. Jordanian post is smooth in comparison. Try it and write to me.
I will send you one back and when you close your eyes and hold the envelope close it will hopefully put a smile on your face.
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