When I let slip how much I spend on Christmas cards each year, Mitch was not particularly pleased. I give you now, as I gave him, an account of my love affair with Christmas cards.
Like most traditions to which I cling, this one started when I was a kid. My parents always made a big deal about the arrival of Christmas cards, dropping them on the counter with a flourish and asking who wanted to open them. We'd split them up equally, slit the envelopes and announce the senders. The best cards came with creative letters updating us on the lives of our far-flung family and friends.
My mom always seemed to pick out the prettiest cards to send: a habit that, to the distress of my husband, I've acquired. Unlike my mom, though, I'm rarely able to decide on one design, so I get multiple styles. When it's time to send them, I get out the special pen set my uncle gave me at my college graduation, settle in at the kitchen table or the couch, and entertain myself for the next few nights by wishing my family and friends a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. And we even did one of those Christmas update letters this year! But, with a small concession to frugality, I do try to limit my mailing to those who also participate in the Christmas card ritual.
I still love receiving cards, too. Yesterday, four lovely envelopes spilled out of the mailbox, putting a big smile on my face! I especially love the cards with letters and photos - after all, I just cleared some of my old photos off the fridge and need some new ones to spice it up. As this was the year of new babies, there are all sorts of fat-cheeked balls of Christmastime adorable-ness grinning at me when I'm working in the kitchen. I keep the non-photo cards in a basket and will go through them at least two or three times before bringing them back to the College for a service project.
No comments:
Post a Comment