Are You Kidding Me??
I ordered a box of Springville’s Hospital books to be shipped to the author’s wife. When the notification of shipment came, it was shipping the books to MY BANK IN THREE RIVERS!! WHAT? HOW? WHY? I didn’t recognize the address so I looked it up on the internet. When I saw it was my bank, I called them to let them know that they’d be getting a package meant for someone they never heard of. Instead of it landing neatly where it belongs, I will have to retrieve it from the bank and then drive it down the hill. I have no idea how this address got onto the order. I’m flummoxed (and a bit irritated at all the automatic stuff that computers do, thinking they are being helpful, if they can be said to “think”.) At least it is going to my bank and not a vacant lot.
Blogging Alone Since 2008
I know no one else in real life who blogs. Through the years, I have made some friends across the continent who blog about as much as I do. None blog about the same things, but all are people I’d probably hang out with if we lived close. They all have much bigger followings than I do, and several have paid ads on their sites which provides income. In spite of having hundreds (or thousands?) of readers, they have been so kind as to comment on my blog, become email friends, and occasionally exchange mail, real mail, the snaily kind.
Check out the postcards I’ve recently received from two friends! On the left is from Elisabeth, of Optimistic Musings of a Pessimist and on the right is from Michelle from MG Doodle Studio. Both are taking a blogging break right now, like I expected to do, but the thoughts keep flowing so I’m still posting.
Writing notes and letters is something I’ve done my entire life. Writing thank you notes was very very difficult as a child; as it morphed into letter writing, it became a habit, one that I have never stopped.
The more people become accustomed to texting, the more precious a hand written note will become. “No one has ever cherished an email”, read an ad for high end stationery many years ago. (Crane’s Crest—anyone else remember this paper?)
Stamps are going up in price again, maybe as high as $1 each. Sounds frightening, but considering that I can hand a piece of paper to someone and it arrives in the correct place a week or so later, for one lousy dollar, just ONE DOLLAR, it seems rather astonishing.
Unless, of course, your computer tells the sender to take it to your bank instead of to the intended recipient.
6 Comments
Hooray for pen pals and postcards. I’m so glad my little note arrived from Venice. It seems like such a wonderful spot for artistic inspiration!
I love this post! I agree that actual physical mail is really special these days, and even if postage goes up to a dollar, it’s worth it. I really enjoyed the card you sent to me – it brightened my day so much! And it’s still brightening my days, pinned to my bulletin board.
Michelle, I’m using your beautiful postcard as a bookmark!
I enjoyed your musing today!
That’s very odd about your book shipment. Did you check your original order to see what address you entered for the “ship to” field? Does your friend live close to the bank? Weird! (Which is one of those words that doesn’t fit into the “I before E” rule. But I digress.)
And yes, I am one of the old relics who still hand-writes thank you cards. I figure if my friend took the time and money to give me a gift, the least I can do is write a personalized note of appreciation. A “thks” text message just doesn’t cut it!
By the way, if you’re up the hill next week and happen to be on the “other side of the valley” stop and say hello to Kathy & Dave!
Sharon, thks for letting me know you enjoyed today’s bloviations.
The order probably had my bank’s address and I didn’t notice the street address because Three Rivers was correct. The questions are how the bank’s address became an auto-fill on my laptop and why didn’t I read more carefully. I didn’t read more carefully because I didn’t know it was necessary.
No, really, thx and ty.
(I hope you are laughing)
One more thought: “Frankly, Autocorrect, I am getting tired of your shirt”.
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