A Vacation Letter from Tom (& Samwise & Emily)

(Dreaming of our upcoming travels this week.)

Years ago, when I was still small and splashing around in the streams and rivers of the White Mountains with my older brothers and sisters, my father would sit at a picnic table half watching us, half putting pen to a yellow pad of paper. Too young to care and too intoxicated by the cooling water and the river play, none of us ever

asked him what he was writing. 



Jack Ryan was of the generation that still penned letters. He was prolific, and each dispatch Contained several pages, filled with his distinctive leaning script of ink on paper. It took decades to realize that is what he was doing on those lazy summer afternoons along various White Mountain waterways.

 



I did not appreciate the art of correspondence until a few years ago. 

These days, after an early morning walk with Samwise and Emily, I begin the rest of my day by writing letters to friends and occasionally family—mostly my brother Eddie, now that Marijane is gone.

 



Letters are to me similar to the gifts of books. If I am close to someone, if I care about them, I write to them. But much like books—which I love giving as presents—the moment they stop being appreciated, I move on. No hard feelings. The friendship typically survives, but letters and books stop arriving in mailboxes. 

My letters are a part of myself, given to someone who matters. There is an intimacy to them.

 Genuine affection.

The moment letters, cards or notes (or books) are taken for granted, is the moment I stop. Fortunately, I am close to many who never fail to appreciate them. And I do not expect all of them to mail things back to me. Letter writing is my thing, after all. Some respond with a text or email or phone call. 





It has become essential for me. Not only as a distinctive way to reach out but plenty of what went into my book “Will’s Red Coat” came from something I’d written to a friend. My letters are seeds planted at this old wooden desk that lead to grander things.

 



I know many people who miss receiving mail. Some of my friends can’t remember the last time they opened a letter other than those from me. They wax nostalgic about the days when the mailman/mailwoman arrived carrying greetings from kindred souls, news from home or from the front, or feverish professions of love. 



With this in mind we’re doing something different for the next several days at Atticus & Will’s Emporium.

(One of the best parts of summer in the Mount Washington Valley is a visit with
Betsi Edge at Weston's Farm Stand. Here's Betsi with her new Will Wisdom shirt.)

Samwise, Emily, and I are headed off on a mini adventure. Three days and two nights out of town. I’ll return to Jackson to type up our trip and anyone who orders anything from Atticus & Will’s Emporium online between now until Thursday at midnight will receive a typed letter about our summer retreat. I’m not sure of the length, but it will be more than two or three pages.


It’s a fun little promotion; one we thought some of you might appreciate, especially if you were already planning to buy a mug, cap or shirt. And wait until you see the stamps that adorn the envelope!

Anyone spending more than $80.00 on an order also receives a personalized handwritten letter from me along with the typed letter. (No guarantee on the length of the handwritten letter, but it will be an actual letter not a postcard.)

*This promotion runs on all orders between July 8, 2018, and midnight July 12, 2018.

To place your order at  Atticus & Will's Emporium click here.

(Samwise and Emily visiting with my brother Eddie,
who is wearing his new Atticus three-toed paw print hat.)