More letter lovers!

Awesome site that posts super cool letters, check it out! Letters of Note. Thanks Nora for the link!

Letter Etiquette from 1954

A charming man named Professor Alan C. Ross, of Birmingham University, published an essay called "U and Non-U: An Essay in Sociological Linguistics" in 1954. "U" stood for the English Upper Class, and Non-U for the non-Upper Class. He had much to say on the proper way to address envelopes and end letters, such as:

"On envelopes, gentlemen put Esq. after the names of persons who are, or who might wish to be considered, gentlemen, whether in fact armigerous or not. Esq. is, however, not used of oneself, e.g. neither on a card (which bears Mr.) nor on a stamped-and-addressed envelope enclosed for reply (which has merely A-- B. X-- or A.B.X-- without prefix). Knowledge of at least one initial of the recipient's name is, of course, a prerequisite for addressing him with Esq. If the writer has not this minimum knowledge (and cannot, or is too lazy to obtain it) he will be in a quandary."

"Postal addresses. It is non-U to place the name of a house in inverted commas (as 'Fairmeads') or to write the number in full, either without or (especially) with inverted commas (as Two - worse 'Two' - St. Patrick's Avenue). The names of many houses are themselves non-U; the idea U-address is P-- Q-- R--, where P-- is a place-name, Q-- a describer, and R-- the name (or abbreviation) of a county, as Shinwell Hall, Salop. But, today, few gentlemen can maintain this standard and they often live in houses with non-U names such as Fairmeads or El Nido."

"Letter endings. The U-rules for ending letters are very strict; failure to observe them usually implies non-U-ness, sometimes only youth. In general, the endings of letters are conditioned by their beginnings. Thus a beginning (Dear) Sir requires the ending Yours faithfully, unless the writer hopes to meet the recipient when Yours very truly may be used. Acquaintances who begin letters with Dear Mr. X-- sign them Yours sincerely or Yours very sincerely; perversely, the latter ending is less cordial than the former. People who know each other really well will begin Dear A-- or Dear X-- (males only) and sign Yours ever. The ending Yours is often used even by gentlemen if they are in doubt as to which ending is appropriate."

- Mitford, Nancy. (Ed.)  Noblesse Oblige: Sophisticated Fun About the Speech and Manners of the English Upper Class. P.62 - 67.

Did you get all that? There will be a quiz.

Stamp boxers!!

From a Butler to the homesick son of the family, 1911

Oh Tall and merciful Mr Osbert,
     I hope you have not erred nor stayed from your way like a lost lamb. Nor has followed the devices and desires of your own heart (where chocolate and fruit is concerned) nor offended against the laws of the Railway company, nor has done those things which you ought not to have done or left undone those things which you ought to have done but hope you arrived at Snettisham in peace and I trust your stay at Ken Hill will be joyful and when you depart that place you may safely come to your home and eternal joy and lemonade.
     Trusting you are in the pink of condition, Sir George is A1.
                                                                             Yours obediently,
                                                                                               Henry Moat

I have been remiss lately.

In apologies, please accept this cool stamp:

Paravion Press!

I stole the quote in the last post from the website of Paravion Press, a super-cool company that I just discovered! They are a small press in the back of a bookshop on a Grecian island, and what makes them so lovely is that they make their books (postcard-sized editions of classics and short stories mostly) specifically to be sent through the mail from friend to friend! "To date we have published eleven titles, seven of which feature specially commissioned illustrations. At the beginning of each is a page ‘for your correspondence,’ in case you want to add a few words of your own, and every book comes with its own envelope, so it’s ready to mail onward." I love this company. And their books are only $10. Shipping may be expensive seeing as it's coming from Greece though - I have yet to order anything, just had fun looking around their website. 

"Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls. For thus, friends absent speak."
- John Donne

Did you know?

Stationery = pretty paper on which to write letters.
Stationary = adjective meaning standing still.

I may or may not have just noticed this difference.

Some of my stuff

I love stationery. It's so hard to find sheet stationery that I like - all the cute stuff is in card form, and I write longer letters than that. So in order to get what I want (and save money - stationary is expensive!) I've started doing simple stuff myself. Let me know if you want to order any, I'd love to share!

 Great stamp, makes for such a neat sheet and envelope.

 The stamp was egg-shaped, which became this chunky chain. I love the little pointing hand stamp - a much more elegant way to say "over."

 Front...

 And back. I like sewing ribbon onto these sheets and backing them with pretty paper. You have to write a really short note though.

 Hard to see, but the paper that I cut the waves out of is printed with stuff like "serenity" and "peace" and "calm."

 This one might be my favorite. Part of the receipt from a ferry ride I took, color copied onto the paper.

 Pieces from maps of the Kilarney area in Kerry, Ireland.

 Close-up of the map. I'm into the concentration of standing stones, castles, and holy wells.

I've done a bunch of octopus designs, from all differently patterned paper.

More some other time!
Go write a letter to someone! S/he will love it!

Handwriting Op-Ed from NYT (Sept. 8 2009)

Envelopes!

This video makes me laugh. (I guess it's informative too.)
A craftster lady with a great Southern accent makes and re-sizes envelopes...and takes it pretty seriously.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xnw_DxA4bkU

A letter from the Jazz Age

From Zelda Fitzgerald to Scott Fitzgerald, c.1936, from a mental hospital in Asheville, North Carolina.

"Dearest, dearest Do-Do:

     What a funny picture of you in the paper. I wish we had just been swimming together, the way it seems - I'll be so glad when you come home again. when will we be three of us again - Do you remember our meal in the biltmore when you said "And now there'll never be two of us again - from now on we'll be three - " And it was sort of sad somehow and then it was the saddest thing in the world, but we were safer and closer than ever - Oh, I'll be so glad to see you on the tenth.
     Scottie [their only child, Frances] was as sweet as I had imagined. She's one inch shorter than I am and weighs four pounds more - and I am her most devoted secret admirer -
     Maybe I can home home -
     O my love
     O my darling        Yes, I mean it
     That's what we said on the softness of that expansive Alabama night a long long time ago when you envited me to dine and I had never dined before but had always just 'had supper.' The General was away. The night was soft and gray and the trees were feathery in the lamp light and the dim recesses of the pine forest were fragrant with the past, and you said you would come back from no matter where you are. So I said and I will be here waiting. I didn't quite believe it, but now I do.
     And so, years later I painted you a picture of some faithful poppies and the picture said 'No matter what happens I have always loved you so. This is the way we feel about us; other emotions may be super-imposed, even accident may contribute another quality to our emotions, but this is our love and nothing can change it. For that is true.' And I love you still.
     It was me who said:
     I feel as if something had happened and I dont know what it is
     You said:
     - Well and you smiled (And it was a compliment to me FOR you had never heard 'well' used so before) if you don't know I can't possibly know
     Then I said 'I guess nobody knows -
     And
          you hoped and I guessed
          Everything's going to be all right -
     So we got married -
     And maybe everything is going to be all right, after all.
     There are so many houses I'd like to live in with you. Oh Wont you be mine - again and again - and yet again -
     Dearest love, I love you
                                                                   Zelda
Happily, happily foreverafterwards - the best we could

***
From Women's Letters, eds. Lisa Grunwald and Stephen J. Adler.

How does the mail work?

From that wonderful website www.howstuffworks.com (subscribe to their podcast Stuff You Should Know, it's hilarious) and their fine article about how the US Postal Service works, I have sadly learned that mailing letters is not actually a magical process.

If you want to find out the truth, enjoy the full article here. If you'd rather keep believing it's magic, ignore the article and the rest of this post.

The highlights!
You know the whole thing about mailmen delivering whether rain, sleet, or shine? (Or is that third one snow?) It's an adaption from Herodotus! "Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds" is inscribed in a New York Post Office. If anyone knows the original Herodotus quote, please comment!


Another surprising fact: despite the internet and other forms of instant communication, "the volume of mail [the USPS] handles each year is actually increasing."


Here's another surprise - although it's a public, governmental body, the US Postal Service is not paid for by our taxes.


"The first official postal service was established in 1639 when the General Court of Massachusetts designated Richard Fairbanks' tavern in Boston as the official mail drop for overseas parcels." This is a place I want to track down and visit!


Benjamin Franklin, wonderful old B.Frank, was our first Postmaster General. (The current - 73rd - PG is one Mr. Patrick Donahoe.)


Apparently, guided missiles have been used to carry mail. I have no idea how that works but it certainly merits further investigation. If you have theories, I'm interested. Another interesting carrier: "According to the USPS Web site, in the 1880s a dog named Dorsey carried mail unaccompanied through the hills separating two California mining towns."


Our parents are older than ZIP codes!!! (For my mother's pride I won't post what year that means...) 


And here's how ZIP codes work: 

• The first digit = the state. 10 digits and 50 states (and DC) means that 2, for example, stands for a whole swatch of the East coast. The numbers increase as you go West.
• The second and third digit = a region within the state. The first three numbers of a ZIP are an "SCF" or Sectional Center Facility code.
• The fourth and fifth digits = smaller units in an area. I  moved last summer, only about 3 miles, and my last two ZIP digits went from 39 to 44. Guess I moved 5 units West!

And, finally, this is how our letters get from point A to point B. The Howstuffworks guys explained it so clearly I'm just copying and pasting their list:

• "You've properly addressed your letter and added the appropriate postage, so you place it into your mailbox. (You could also drop the letter into a public collection box or take it directly to your local post office.)
• A postal carrier collects your letter from the box along with the rest of the mail and takes it to the post office. There, all of the mail is placed on a truck and taken to a mail processing plant.
• At the mail processing plant, machines separate mail by shape and size. They also orient the packages so their addresses are right-side up and facing the same direction. Your letter gets its postmark, and machines print cancellation lines across postage stamps to prevent them from being reused.
• A unique fluorescent bar code is imprinted on the back of each piece of mail. An optical scanner scans the address, and then a bar code representing the specific address is sprayed on the front of the envelope. If the scanner can't read the address, the letter is manually sorted.
• Other processing machines read the bar codes and direct the letters into bins based on ZIP codes -- this indicates the next processing plant, in the region where the letter will ultimately be delivered. (Each post office is served by a mail processing plant.) From the bins, the letters are sorted into trays by ZIP code and flown or trucked to the next processing.
• At the final processing plant, sorting machines read the bar codes and sort the letters by carrier and into delivery order for that carrier.
• The letters are taken to the individual post offices, and the carriers load the trays into their individual vehicles for final delivery."

With all those steps, and so much of it being machine-sorted...maybe it IS magic.

Go send a letter!

Life-long Penpals Meet!

From http://www.wickedlocal.com/bridgewatereast/fun/x488806658/Across-the-pond-Women-from-East-Bridgewater-and-England-are-long-time-pen-pals

"Lorraine Lewis wasn’t yet a teenager when she started writing letters to a farm girl she’d never met who was living in rural England.

For 65 years, Lewis and June Walker have written about milestones in life: boyfriends, marriages, births of children, children’s marriages and births of grandchildren.

Lewis, now 77 and an East Bridgewater resident, sent American gifts — a plate with a country scene, an American flag, a pocketbook. Walker sent her knit dolls in a nativity scene and perfume with a label that said “Lou-Lou.”

In all those years, they have never once sent an e-mail or text message, and they have only spoken by telephone twice, to wish one another happy 70th birthdays.

This month, the two friends from across the Atlantic Ocean finally met in person. Lewis and Walker, of Long Itchington, England, have corresponded regularly since around 1944 using old-fashioned pen, paper and postage.

The two pen pals finally met in person when Lewis’s daughter, Gail Lewis, took her on a trip to England to visit Walker’s son’s farm, where they raise sheep. Walker said the two spent a weekend together, from June 12-14, touring the area.

“It was lovely. We went out to the countryside, and went to the farm,” Walker, 78, said in a telephone interview from her home in England. “She was just as I imagined.”

Lewis said she and Walker started writing when they were 11 or 12 and still in grammar school.

It started when they were given the name and address of one other through mutual friends who were already pen pals.

Later, Walker, a seamstress, made and sent dresses and outfits to Lewis’s children when they were growing up. Lewis planned to wear a blouse Walker made when she visited.

Lewis’s husband Richard died a few years ago. They have four children: Dennis, John, Gail and Linda. Five of her grandchildren are in the military and three are heading to Iraq or Afghanistan.

“She always writes ‘Cheerio’ at the end of her letters. I love that,” Lewis said.

After the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, the pen pals started to write about what it was like to live through World War II.

Walker wrote about being taken to a safe place in school during air raids. Lewis wrote about air raid drills and rationing stamps for food and gas.

In 1988, Walker wrote that her granddaughter Diana’s friend missed her flight home to New York, which would have placed her aboard Pan Am Flight 103, which blew up over Lockerbie, Scotland.

“The little girl had been due to fly to America to spend Christmas with her parents on the plane which exploded over Scotland and all lives were lost. She had pleaded to stay with her grandmother for Christmas. They were thanking God she did,” Walker wrote.

Letter writing is a lost art today, said Lewis.

“The kids today don’t have the penmanship that we had, or they don’t have the instructions for a proper letter, with the salutation and all the paragraphs and all that,” she said.

Lewis said modern communication tools like MySpace, Facebook, Twitter and even long-distance and international phone calls don’t stack up against a handwritten, posted letter.

“It’s really fast, this e-mail business and all that. I can understand how good that is. But I’m not interested in it at all. I don’t think I can do it. I know how to write and that’s it,” she said.

Lewis said an 18-minute call overseas cost her $58. But it only takes 98 cents to mail a heartfelt letter from East Bridgewater to England.

“When you think about it, for a minimal amount of money I can send a message to this friend of mine. We are good friends. It’s remarkable,” Lewis said. “Think of your packages and things that you’d send anywhere. How much would it cost for you to travel somewhere and give that to somebody?”

***

Wonderful, right? I too have an international "old-fashioned pen, paper and postage" penpal with whom I've been corresponding since I was 11 or 12  and have never met. I hope we last as long as these ladies! I would LOVE to meet her one day but I also think the idea of us corresponding our whole lives and never meeting each other in person is sort of romantic.

A Titanic Letter

18/4/12

Dear Hettie:

I’ve arrived, rescued and my-self safe at New York. I suppose you heard about the “Titanic” and I suppose you thought I was drowned, but, thank God, I just managed to escape.

I will explain how the accident happened. At 10-30 we were all sent to bed, lively shouting and singing and doing everything. About 11:45 we were awakened as about a dozen crewmen came by our decks. We did not take the slightest notice and went to bed again, but we were awakened by the sailors to put on lifebelts. I did not have any because I could not find one, and still I was making a lark of it and people were singing and playing the piano’ the band was also playing.

I went on the Third Class Deck and saw great lumps of ice and realized we had struck an iceberg. But we still did not realize there was any danger.

Later things looked serious and I knew that it was time to fend for myself. I realized that I had to find a lifebelt which I did. I went back to my birth to find some of my belongings and as I walked through the gangway, I was told by some merchant seamen that things were serious, so I decided to go back on deck.

While walking on the deck, I saw quite a few people praying and holding rosaries to be saved. I thought to myself, I will pray when I am rescued.

It was then about 200 feet high from the water where I was standing. As I was not afraid of the danger, I knew I must do something. I was standing near the davits with ropes hanging down climbed on the davits, crawled across and jumped for one of the ropes. I was wearing gloves and that saved my hands partially. I had to jump 5 feet horizontally to reach them.

I clutched the ropes and when I got to the end of these, I still found I had to jump into the sea and was kept up by my lifebelt. After being in the water for several minutes, I was picked up. The boat that rescued me had children and women but was not filled to capacity. Our boat picked up several men from the water. I believe one or two died of exposure.

Then the bung of my lifeboat began to leak, so my job was to bale the water. We sailed through the night in a calm see. We were lucky and every star we saw in the sky we thought theses were lights from boats, but we were only seeing mirages.

At about 7:00 a.m. when it became light, we saw a boat in the distance, which we found out was the CARPATHIA. When we reached the CARPATHIA, we had to climb on board this boat by rope ladder.

I had lost all my money, barring a few coppers, but my valuables was with the purser, which included a farewell watch from my boys club which I belonged.

Gus

(Gershun Cohen, 19, to his girlfriend. From Letters of the Century, eds. Lisa Grunwald and Stephen J. Adler.)