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A constantly curious and melancholic wanderer...

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Vintage Random

I am really following a wide variety of blogs these days.  From latest fashion, to beautiful photography and to just plain random.

I recently started following Letters of Note, an awesome blog that posts letters from novelists or singers or just about anyone that was discovered and that they feel needs recognition.  I absolutely love letters...and even though I love receiving emails and love my blackberry and the communication opportunities (or lack of communication as some people might feel) it gives me, there is absolutely nothing like the feeling of a handwritten letter coming from someone you love.  My grandmother and I used to exchange letters and when I was younger I used to have quite a few pen pals.  Sadly with technology growing, that is one of the things that is really becoming less used.  Why would you write a letter of you can send an email or instant message to someone in just seconds?

But after discovering this blog, I have made a decision to start writing letters again and also maybe to share a letter on my blog every now and then.  We will see how long this resolution lasts, but I've promised my grandmother that she will receive a thick, hand written letter from me soon and intend to keep my promise.

To start off this new feature, I will share a letter from Letters of Note.  This is the most random letter I have ever seen and I cannot believe it happened in the 1800's.

You can see the post for yourself at this link.

In March of 1861, renowned novelist Anthony Trollope sent the following letter to a Miss Dorothea Sankey. To this day, it's unknown whether he was joking.

Waltham House
Waltham Cross

March 24. 1861

My dearest Miss Dorothea Sankey

My affectionate & most excellent wife is as you are aware still living—and I am proud to say her health is good. Nevertheless it is always well to take time by the forelock and be prepared for all events. Should anything happen to her, will you supply her place,—as soon as the proper period for decent mourning is over.

Till then I am your devoted Servant

Anthony Trollope

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