How Much Does a Stamp Cost, Anyway?

We good Catholic homeskillets here like to write letters. I mean actual, physical pen-and-stationery letters. Facebook updates? Nice to keep tabs on friends over the summer. E-mail? Eh, it's okay, but it's still only words on a screen. You can't touch them. Phone calls? It's great to hear somebody's voice, but once the phone call ends, that's it -- there's no lasting record, nothing to hang on to and remember the call by.

And there are letters. Something that you can hold in your hand. Letters not only express the writer's unique personality and traits, laid out on the paper for you to see and hold on to, they represent valuable time taken from the writer's hectic life and spent on you, the recipient. The writer chose the paper, filled it with their soul, and gave it to you. How cosmic is that? And, if you're anything like the ladies of this blog, the margins are crammed with doodles, coffee stains, and random outbursts of life. At no extra charge.

I have a thing for blank paper of any kind. I've been known to spend hours in the stationery aisle, selecting the perfect ream of paper, elegant or whimsical; some stationery I even pick out with a specific friend in mind, one who would get a particular inside joke, or get a kick out of a cheesy pattern. But blank paper isn't enough -- you have to fill the blank pages with thoughts, jokes, anecdotes, and memories.

I've always adored the thought of letters, permanent keepsakes and milestones of a relationship, collected and tied with ribbon to be enjoyed years later. You can't do that with texts and e-mails. They just don't carry the same level of meaning. There's something so very impersonal about them. Don't get me wrong. I use and enjoy the convenience of e-mail and Facebook just as much as other people. But there's always a zing of excitement and adventure when ripping open an envelope that has traveled half-way across the continent to reach you. What tales will those ink-covered pages unfold?

Hat tip to Karen Edmisten for inspiring this post.