I recently wrote a letter to someone whom I respect and admire. I wrote on paper torn from my favorite notebook. I like my notebook so much, I’ve had it for almost two years now, simply because I used it specifically for writing stories in longhand. When I write in my notebook it reminds me of class.
The words I wrote in my letter flowed across the pages with such ease; I used three pages before I realized it. Happy as only letter-writers can be after sealing a finished letter inside an envelope, and putting the stamp in place, tonight it dawned on me that maybe I should have considered my intended reader’s sensibilities. Here it was , a week after the fact, and only now did I wonder if my “stationery” would be viewed as offensive, disrespectful, or in poor taste. I couldn't help but wonder if I'd be seen as a hick Texan, whose Mama hadn't taught her any manners.
The paper in my notebook likes ink. :)
I know better. I know that good manners dictate that I use my prettiest, most impressive stationery, because it represents me, This Limner. So, why didn’t I pull out a box of Crane & Co.? I didn’t, because I felt so good about writing to my reader, that, acting on instinct, I went with the paper that evoked my first, and best writing memories: Memories of writing when I was a young girl, learning the art of the handwritten letter. Oh, what a feeling, to go from dictating simple things like, “Tell Aunt Pauline I said hey,” for Mama to include in her letter, to printing, “Dear Aunt Pauline, How are you? I am fine . . .”!
So, this block of hindsight is written to the new friend who read my letter that was written on ruled pages gently torn from my favorite notebook--the notebook I bought at Target, on sale well over a year and a half-ago: I hope you were not offended. Your letter didn’t come to you on lovely paper. And, it wasn’t in a lovely envelope. But . . . And this is the best "but" of all: Your letter came from a good place in time. I enjoyed writing to you, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. However, if you want an apology, I will write one on some of the prettiest paper I own. Just say the word.
This is meant to be a P.S of sorts. Ahem.
I almost wrote to you on paper torn from a "Big Chief Tablet." Wth a crayon.