Today I like: The sound of snow
Not so much: Driving minivan in snow
Just a quick note today on Christmas cards. I’m thinking about them because I have a large stack sitting on my kitchen counter. They scream at me for deliverance every time I walk past them. You see, theses cards are for our neighborhood friends. There are roughly forty of them, white squares of holiday cheer, all ready to go.
I have not yet sunk so low as to mail a card that will eventually end up within shouting distance of my house. For four days I’ve been trying to find time to drive around my large subdivision and insert said holiday greetings into our infamous neighborhood mailboxes (the ones that look like birdhouses and are regularly subject to the whims of teenagers bent on destruction, but that’s another post). But… it’s cold (I’m a wuss) and I’m rushing rushing rushing. I just haven’t gotten to it.
Part of me wonders why we all still go through the Christmas card rigmarole. Almost everyone I send a card is on my Facebook list, other than my grandmother and a few high-minded friends who are opposed to Facebook on principle. Everyone already knows what my kids look like (cards with no pics are so 1975). My neighbors see them on a regular basis at the pool or at school or in the grocery store. Why spent money and time, and sacrifice trees, on cards that will most likely be trashed faster than you can say 2011?
I have a theory. We keep doling out the cards because they remind us of the days when people looked forward to getting mail. When it wasn’t just bills and catalogues (and the occasional rejection from a literary agent!). Something fun and personal in the birdhouse! I love it! This year my girls are hanging the cards around the kitchen doorway, and all those smiling kids and cute new puppies and Tiny Prints templates do make me feel warm and fuzzy. I had a grand old time choosing pictures for our card. Combed through the whole year, noticed how much the kids have grown, marveled at just how adorable they are.
So I will keep the tradition going. I’ll throw the kids in the car some evening before Christmas Eve and we will troll the neighborhood for the best light display. The girls will get a kick out of shoving cards into birdhouses. I’ll recycle the cards I receive and encourage you to do the same. Long live Christmas cards! May they never go the way of the dodo.