Did you know you can slap postage on a coconut and mail it?! No box needed, just an address (and the understanding that your mail carrier will never look at you the same way again).
A while back, I read a blog post on Recyclebank.com about making your own postcards out of photographs. I made a mental note to start using up all the duplicate photos I hang onto (because I can’t bear to throw them away). Enough time has passed since I read that post, that I decided to double check my memory. When I Googled “what will the post office let me mail,” the first several hits were about mailing coconuts. Apparently it’s a thing people do when they visit parts of the world where coconuts grow. Who knew?
I also got confirmation that the U.S. Postal Service will deliver just about anything if it’s got a clear address and correct postage.
Pumpkin? Yes. Beach ball? Sure. Brick? Believe it or not, that too. Did you know there was a time in American history when you could mail your child somewhere? It was cheaper than train fare, so folks pinned a piece of paper, with Grandma and Grandpa’s address on it, to their child’s clothing, paid the required postage, and their child rode with the mailbags to their destination. I get excited when anything other than a bill arrives in my mailbox. I cannot image waiting for a person!
So, why all this talk about mailing things? In the days following the presidential inauguration, I’ve been, shall we say, inspired to contact my senators and congresspersons. I tried calling, but couldn’t get through (apparently I’m not the only American citizen with this idea), so a handwritten note seemed like a good alternative. It’s not a conversation, but, at the very least, mail must be logged and my opinion noted. Since coconuts are not native to Kentucky, I decided to try the make-your-own-postcard project and use up some leftover family photos.
I really could have just written on the back of the photos, then added an address and postage. But the photos alone felt too flimsy to survive the journey, so I mounted them on scraps of light-colored cardstock. The actual message was harder to write than I thought, but I enjoyed adding a pithy photo caption to the front. Coupled with our sweet faces – faces attached to human beings who are affected by the decisions they are making – I’m hoping my message might warrant a second glance.