Annual Newsletters/Holiday Cards
To send or not to send? 'Tis the season to read in blogs, Facebook updates, and advice columns about how folks don't like getting a card with only a signature or a printed name and no personal note at Christmas time. 'Tis the season to read about how folks dislike the newsletters people send out. So braggy! So impersonal! They think other people care about what they're doing! I tell you what. Why don't we just scrap the whole damn thing and no one sends anything. Period. Let's just scrap the tradition of greeting people in whatever way seems manageable.
Years ago, my husband and I started the tradition of putting together an annual newsletter. It has evolved into an annual newsletter rather than a Christmas or Holiday newsletter since it now goes out sometime after the first of the year to remove it from the Christmas holiday for those who may celebrate a different holiday or none at all. My spouse and I are both decent writers and photographers, and this newsletter is a creative outlet for both of us. We discuss it. We plan it out. We talk about what stories might be of interest to other people and try to focus on human interest stories and humor. What is "braggy" about the adjustment tale of an elderly cat and kitten trying to establish the pecking order in the household? What is boring and impersonal about the journey of love and loss, accomplishments and disappointments?
We spend days on this endeavor. We decide who will write what. We carefully select what photos to include. There is stationery selection and graphics. And there is editing and editing and editing. And tons of color ink. It's a labor of love, and when I look at what we've created and offered to our friends and family, I'm generally pleased with it and hope that they are, too.
But every year going into this season, I read about the number of people who are just bored and disgusted with others' attempts to stay in touch, no matter what it is. If it's anything but a handpicked card and a personally written letter, it is trash material to some. Every year, I think we should just stop, save the cost of the stationery, the envelopes, the ink, the postage, and the time and energy. No, it's not a handwritten note to each and every one, but that is simply not going to happen. Both my husband and I (he at 61 and me at 56) have arthritis in our hands and handwriting is one of the worst aggravations to the condition. The keyboard has saved written communication from going by the wayside completely for us. Our closest family and friends do hear from us in that personal and individualized way throughout the year, by phone, by email, by birthday and anniversary cards. For those whom we don't communicate with in a more one-on-one, personal manner throughout the year, the truth of the matter is that we don't hear anything from them, either. Nada. Zip. But yet I still like them to know that we think of them, that they're still on our "list." And I don't criticize what we get from them. It cost them time and postage at a minimum to do what they did, and maybe that's all they can do at that time. So be it.
So, we'll do it one more year. There will be those who appreciate hearing from us, reading a few of the stories we've selected from the past year of our lives and seeing some decent photos. There will be those who grumble and throw the thing in a drawer or in a pile to be tossed when they get around to it. Whatever.
One more year of the Birchwood Gazette. And then maybe we'll stop.
Years ago, my husband and I started the tradition of putting together an annual newsletter. It has evolved into an annual newsletter rather than a Christmas or Holiday newsletter since it now goes out sometime after the first of the year to remove it from the Christmas holiday for those who may celebrate a different holiday or none at all. My spouse and I are both decent writers and photographers, and this newsletter is a creative outlet for both of us. We discuss it. We plan it out. We talk about what stories might be of interest to other people and try to focus on human interest stories and humor. What is "braggy" about the adjustment tale of an elderly cat and kitten trying to establish the pecking order in the household? What is boring and impersonal about the journey of love and loss, accomplishments and disappointments?
We spend days on this endeavor. We decide who will write what. We carefully select what photos to include. There is stationery selection and graphics. And there is editing and editing and editing. And tons of color ink. It's a labor of love, and when I look at what we've created and offered to our friends and family, I'm generally pleased with it and hope that they are, too.
But every year going into this season, I read about the number of people who are just bored and disgusted with others' attempts to stay in touch, no matter what it is. If it's anything but a handpicked card and a personally written letter, it is trash material to some. Every year, I think we should just stop, save the cost of the stationery, the envelopes, the ink, the postage, and the time and energy. No, it's not a handwritten note to each and every one, but that is simply not going to happen. Both my husband and I (he at 61 and me at 56) have arthritis in our hands and handwriting is one of the worst aggravations to the condition. The keyboard has saved written communication from going by the wayside completely for us. Our closest family and friends do hear from us in that personal and individualized way throughout the year, by phone, by email, by birthday and anniversary cards. For those whom we don't communicate with in a more one-on-one, personal manner throughout the year, the truth of the matter is that we don't hear anything from them, either. Nada. Zip. But yet I still like them to know that we think of them, that they're still on our "list." And I don't criticize what we get from them. It cost them time and postage at a minimum to do what they did, and maybe that's all they can do at that time. So be it.
So, we'll do it one more year. There will be those who appreciate hearing from us, reading a few of the stories we've selected from the past year of our lives and seeing some decent photos. There will be those who grumble and throw the thing in a drawer or in a pile to be tossed when they get around to it. Whatever.
One more year of the Birchwood Gazette. And then maybe we'll stop.