The Postie

 

I shop on line - a lot!  I have at least one grocery delivery a month especially when I want frozen food.  I get most of my clothes on-line.  The list could go on for quite a long time.

Most delivery staff are good but both Sainsbury and the Royal Mail are brilliant.  Sainsbury came Saturday and for £1 my groceries were delivered to my kitchen.  Their delivery staff are always cheerful and helpful.  I'm well organised and ready for them and we always have a cheery chat.

The posties from Royal Mail are always lovely too.  They know mine is a dog free house  and there is a seat by my front door which is good as it takes me a while to get to the door.  My recliner chair can be a bit slow getting me to ground level.  I always apologise and they always tell me not to worry.

I had a little giggle on Saturday as when I went to the door the postie was half way down the drive.  Apparently the cat from Number 12 was lurking.  It is known to all the local posties as it attacks them.  I suppose it makes a change from dogs.  

Joyful January.

 January is usually not a good time.  It's a blue month: not the lovely blue of summer skies but the dull, sapping blue of depression.  

Not so January 2022!  I told you my concerns about the month in this post and two lovely friends decided that they would do their bit and they have sent me cards.  How kind is that!!

And kindness begets kindness.  I'm not going to try and "pay back" the kindness of the two bloggers who sent these cards.  Instead I have set pen to paper and written letters to two housebound people.  I hope that knowing that I have paid forward instead brings joy to the senders.

And on the same subject, if you would like to be part of a chain of kindness, have a look at "Kindness by Post".  Registration will be open soon for the February letter chain.  (Sorry, I think it may be UK only but why not look if there is something similar on your country.)

(I have been an absentee blogger for several days as my laptop died and although I can comment on other people's blogs using my iPad I don't feel able to post pieces on my own blog.  I now have a new laptop.  Hurrah!)

Credit where credit is due!

You will have gathered over the past few months that Jack spends a fair amount of time chez moi.  He drinks a fair amount of tea, ticks me off and eats the home made goodies on offer but to be fair to him, he does lots of other things too.

This plant container started life as a water feature but for several years now it has stood near my front door with a floral display.  I think this year's display has been the best ever.   

He has made a new number for the front of my house, adorning it with butterflies.  This was at my request because I loathe trying to find a house when there is no clear number so it seems only fair that my house should be clearly labelled.

He's done loads in the back garden too (the veg patch is my best ever!) but I'll show you that another day.

Putting my house sign on the blog has reminded me that I've been wondering about the letter swaps.  That was a few months ago - how is everyone getting on?  

A life of idleness

 Jack has been hinting that I really ought to blog more often.  Trouble is, I'm not doing much.

On Monday Annie-the-home-enhancer came.  Annie has school age children so once they go back to school I don't want her to come but during August she's been three times to sort me out.  I now have a lovely home again.  I'm still "deep decluttering" and will be doing so for the foreseeable future.  Jack came too to bring a huge bag of greengages.  Then I nipped to a village about twenty miles away to collect some clothes from one (paternal) cousin for another (maternal) cousin who is a dressmaker, to alter. 

Tuesday I was totally worn out from the amount of work Annie did on Monday!  So I just sat and finished a hat for the Sailors Society and a twiddlemuff for whoever.  Oh and I roasted tomatoes and made soup to freeze ready for the winter.  And made a loaf of bread.  And a batch of greengage jam.

Wednesday I went to take craft stuff to yet another cousin who is very involved with Brownies and things.  My deep decluttering has unearthed quite a bit of stuff which I am unlikely to use so the Brownies can have it.  Then I cast on another twiddlemuff - I'm trying to use up the odds and ends of wool which I keep finding.  In the afternoon Sainsbury's brought my groceries.

Today I visited a friend, had a routine corona test, made two batches of chutney, wrote a letter and did my telephone "pastoral visiting". 

So as you can see, I have a life of idleness

And now I am struggling with the new Blogger trying to create this post.  I haven't yet come across a blogger who has a good word to say for it!

(I've put links to twiddlemuffs and the Sailors' Society but just in case you don't know a twiddlemuff is a muff with buttons, ribbons and other bits and pieces firmly attached.  It is given to dementia sufferers so they have something which will keep their hands warm but which they can fiddle with harmlessly.)  

Keeping in touch

Isolation is becoming my new norm.  I'm used to spending lot of time alone.  I have very well stocked cupboards and freezer.  I've got excellent neighbours.  The idea of twelve weeks relative seclusion really isn't bothering me too much - in fact I'm rather looking forward to getting a few things done.

But sleep is proving a problem.  For several nights I've gone to bed feeling dog-tired but as soon as my head hits the pillow a Grand National of thoughts starts racing.  How will I manage the garden?  What if my computer breaks down?  What will happen if I get this wretched virus and I am on my own?  Generally about 4am I drop off through sheer exhaustion!

Then I nod off during the day but invariably I get woken after ten minutes by some kind person ringing to see if I am OK.  I'm really grateful - I live alone and kind support is really comforting but it's very frustrating!

Last night the exhaustion pushed me into sleep around 10.30pm but it didn't last long.  By 1am those jockeys had their horses racing around my brain and so at 2.30 I got up  and decided to read a few blogs. 

And there on Small Moments was a post about my letter swap which I wrote about a few days ago.  I had been in touch with Elizabeth who writes that blog to ask her advice about setting up a swap.  Many years ago I joined a swap which she organised. Later on I met her at Trelissick Gardens, a National Trust property in Cornwall.  We enjoyed a coffee and a walk (well, she walked and I rode my trundle truck).

It's great to make contact with fellow bloggers especially by letter (or even better meeting face to face) because letters are so much more personal than e mails.  There's no cut-and-paste, no personalising a basic document which has been sent in modified form to several people: instead there's something which the other person has touched and indeed created just for you.  The choice of stationery, the style of handwriting and so many things mean a letter is so very personal and could only have been created by just that one individual.

My letter swap is open until 27th March so you have over a week to decide if you want to take part.  You can e mail me at FenellaatCaistor@GMail.com.  Terra and Joyce F, you both said you would be sending me an e mail but I haven't received so could you send me another please - I will acknowledge receipt of all e mails.

I've had several e mails from people saying that they don't want to be part of the swap but they would like to be my pen-pal.   I've thought long and hard about this and have decided that as I can't say yes to all I will not say yes to any.  You can specify that you want a partner in your own country or abroad but you can't specify who.

Update.  In the comments below Marcia refers to this post by Elaine.

Letters

I love getting letters!  And I enjoy writing letters too.  Letters aren't just about the words we write, they're something of the essence of the person, something which they've taken trouble over.  Our handwriting is highly individual and to see a friend's offering on the mat is one of the great pleasures of life.

I’ve just written to a dear friend of mine, Doreen.  Doreen and I have been friends for around forty years.  She even reads this blog so now she knows there’s a treat in the post for her.  I’m staying away from people for the moment while this wretched virus is around.  Maybe you are doing the same.  It can get a bit lonely though.  I’m glad of phone calls and e mails but letters will be a great help.

So I’ve been wondering if the idea of exchanging letters appeals to you, Dear Reader.  If so, I’m happy to facilitate a swap.  If you want to join in put a comment below letting me know if you want a swap in your own country or whether you’re happy to send your letter overseas.  I will need your e mail address so I can let you know who your exchange is.  My own e mail address is on my profile page if you'd prefer to use that.

I’ll keep the swap open until 27^th March (that’s two weeks today) and won’t organise the exchanges until then.

Update  I will acknowledge all e mails that I receive.

Still swimming - but only just!

I really thought very little else could go wrong!  But somehow fate had its plans.

The freezer.  I think that a freezer is the most inconvenient appliance to die as it is totally non-negotiable.  All too often one realises that it has died only when it's too late to do anything about it.  Fortunately I realised before my food was ruined and I did a very quick transfer of stuff to the old chest freezer in the garage.  

An urgent replacement was needed so I rang a local small business from whom I've bought stuff before and I explained the problem.  The lady was very sympathetic - she didn't think they could deliver today but she'd see what could be done.  So off I drove to Market Rasen.

I saw The Boss and again explained the problem and he had a word with The Man.  I quickly chose a freezer, paid and came home.  My first call to them had been at 1.30pm and by 3.15pm the freezer was working in in my kitchen.  I call that excellent service and a letter will shortly be winging its way to The Boss.  

Another minor niggle has been that the clock fell off the wall and hit me on the head while I was sorting the freezer.  I will admit to a couple of tears as it came a bit sharp but I'm not really hurt.  And part of the fence has blown over.  

I am becoming a somewhat jaded swan but I endeavour to keep swimming serenely.

My postman

I've got the best postman in the world and it's no good you telling me yours is better!

When it's hot weather (remember that?) I watch out for him and give him an ice lolly to show my appreciation but he's wonderful for everybody.  He seems to do his round at the trot, wearing shorts no matter what the weather is like.  He's got a smile for everyone and we have an "arrangement" when parcels which won't go through the letterbox need to be delivered and I'm not in.

And of course he brings wonderful things!  Actually I've just realised that's an advantage of on-line billing - whatever the postman brings now is lovely!  Today was an especially good day.  He brought a letter all the way from Texas!  (No', I don't think he brought it all the way, just the last leg of its journey.)  

This handmade card brought me joy in January and is still on display

You can't beat a real letter for bringing pleasure.  I know somebody will say that postage is very expensive but I truly think it is wonderful value for money.  I don't know what it cost my lovely penfriend to send that letter but I know it will cost me £1.33 to send a reply.  If I send a letter in this country it costs 55p or 64p first class.  That's less than a bunch of daffs and gives just as much pleasure if not more.  I keep letters for ages, reading and re-reading them, delighting in the quirks of handwriting and the care which my correspondent has put into her creation.  If I am lucky enough to receive a letter on a handmade card it is on display for weeks if not months.

Writing a letter takes real effort.  These days we dash off e mails or pick up the phone without much of a second thought but to write a letter takes a bit of planning.  Once it is written it has to be taken to the post box, or even the Post Office if it is going abroad and I'm not sure of postage.

It's National Stationery Week.  Neither my postman nor my pen will be stationary!

The Changing Face of Luxury

Way, way back, a couple of centuries ago, oysters were food for the poor.  I remember reading that years ago and marvelling at it - as I still do when I see the exorbitant price of those delicious shellfish.  However my forefathers and foremothers would look in astonishment at how our expectations have changed.

Take fish.  When I was a little girl we had cod and chips (home cooked!) every week but fresh salmon was a very rare luxury and indeed few of my friends had ever tasted it.  These days salmon is considerably cheaper than cod.  

A car was a rare possession for families sixty years ago and most of my friends would travel by train when they went on holiday.  These days rail travel is very rare and few families have no access to a car (although I suspect that might be different in areas where there is still a proper public transport system). 

One of my most frequent errands as a child was to post letters for my Mother.  Although my Father's job meant that we had a telephone at home, few of our relations had such a convenience, so Mother would write regularly to her brothers and sister and to my grandparents.  Every day letters popped on to the mat and so news was shared.  

But today when my own letterbox rattled I found I had received one of those great twenty first century luxuries, a handwritten letter, this time all the way from the USA.  And so I prepared another luxury, real coffee (more or less unheard of in my youth) which I will drink from my beautiful china (Grandma very rarely used the best stuff), and read a handwritten letter from a land which seemed as far away as the moon when my Father went there on business when I was just five.

  

Sheer luxury!

Letters

I had a telephone call from Bonnie on Saturday.  Her granddaughter had been and had received the letter which I sent her, care of Bonnie.  (See previous post.)

When she first saw it she was a little suspicious.  “I’ve never had a letter in the post before.  Who is it from?” 

“You’d better open it if you want to know that.”  I’d written my surname on the envelope so that Bonnie would know it was a safe letter.

So the letter was opened.

Apparently the little girl couldn’t believe it.  She’s never had a real letter, hand-written to her.  I had made the card myself, and written a very short note thanking her for looking after me at lunch when I went to visit Bonnie.  The letter is destined for her treasure box.

This seems like a good place for a small update.  Back in September I wrote to Tesco to congratulate the store manager on the excellent service which I received from a member of his staff.  http://trundlingthroughlife.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/am-i-caring-or-am-i-just-lazy.html   I never updated you on that one but I had a letter back from the manager saying that the young man concerned had received an “excellence in service” award as a result of my letter.

Writing thank you brings me great pleasure.

Thanks

(Coo, two posts in one day!)

When I was a little girl my Mother told me that a gift wasn’t really mine until I had said thank you PROPERLY.  Saying thank you properly, according to Mother meant you either thanked somebody face to face or you wrote a letter.  A phone call was not enough.

I was never wholly convinced by this theory.  I overheard other grown-ups thanking Mother for my letters and saying that they could never persuade their children to write.  Then later I would hear Mother muttering that other people didn’t make their children write.  One year I suggested I sent back a gift which I didn’t want anyway to save myself the bother of writing.  The memory of the ensuing explosion lives with me to this day.

However, I still place a very high priority on saying thank you but these days I sometimes use the phone.  Sometimes though it is nice to sit down and write a short note.

This year I have actually managed to make my thank you cards as well as write them.  I hope the recipients enjoy receiving them.

Because I enjoyed making them far more than I enjoyed writing those letters when I was a child.

The Letter

Elizabeth at http://frenchvillagelife.blogspot.co.uk/ recently organised a letter swap and I had my name down for it like a shot! 

E mail is great for quick no fuss communication, but for sheer joy you can’t beat good old-fashioned snail mail.  I’ve been anticipating receiving my first letter since I wrote to my partner a couple of weeks ago and I think our letters crossed in the post.  Today it arrived!  The postman rang at the door as he also had to deliver a parcel and he was greatly amused when I cheered when I saw the letter.  It has come all the way from Texas, from a lady who I’ve never met and she was telling me all about her life and her connections with the UK.

But I’m racing ahead of myself.  Such an important thing as a handwritten letter demands a cuppa and a slice of cake to accompany it.  There’s the stamp to examine, the handwriting to admire, (although I doubt if my partner will be admiring my handwriting) and the joy of perusing something which has been written especially for me.  No e mail can deliver that!

And there’s the joy of writing the letter as well.  I have a leather writing case with my father’s initials on it.  I love to buy good quality writing paper and letters demand the use of my fountain pen.  Sad to say my handwriting is appalling but the recipient has received something which I have created and for the time I was writing it, she was topmost in my mind.

I hope she has received as much pleasure as she has given me.