Today is perfectly lovely though still a bit chilly at 48°. It’s the lack of any breeze which makes the day feel almost warm. The cats have staked their claim in the sun streaming through the front door. Gracie is outside playing with her pal Cody. He leaves his own house, runs here and barks at the door to come in and play with Gracie in the backyard. When they’re done, I let him in and open the front door. He runs home and leaves an exhausted Gracie behind him.
The Red Sox won their first game yesterday. It was against the Yankees and was a see-saw game until the seventh. I’m thinking being home was all they needed. Yaz threw out the first pitch and Johnny Pesky said, ” Play Ball!” I love tradition.
I used to own lovely stationery. In the corner of every sheet was an embossed K. Having that box made me feel special. Though I haven’t any of those sheets left, I still have some boxes of note cards left over from the days of handwriting. I’d send a thank note for gifts and special evenings. I haven’t done that in a long while; instead, I write an e-mail or make a phone call, but they just aren’t the same. Taking the time to write a note elevates the gift and the gift giver. I think it’s time for me to go back to that lovely tradition of giving thanks in a special way.
When I was in Ghana, I sent blue aerogramms. My writing was tiny, and I filled every open space. My mother saved several of those, and I love reading them. They aren’t filled with exciting travels or stories of marvels, but they give a chronicle of my every day activities, my students and my trips to the market or my rare evenings out at the Hotel d’Bull for a movie. Back then, I thought the news quite boring, but I knew my family would be thrilled to read about Ghana and what I was doing. I never thought I’d be reading them forty years later.
Writing letters has gone out of style and been replaced by e-mails and blogs. I imagine, though, I too would have had a blog of my adventures in Ghana, but I do love having my letters and re-reading them. They are a narration, a log, not dependent on an internet connection. They are far more substantial.
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