Ah the pleasures of letter writing. Just the thought of it makes me happy. Not the email type, of course, but that proper, ink-to-paper, paper-to-post kind of letter writing. I love its slowness and deliberateness, the lack of expectation of immediacy, its absence of predictive text to both assist and confound: it evokes that greatest of luxuries: time. It evokes an era when the ladies of the house dispatched themselves to their “morning” rooms to take care of the correspondence of the day. I find it fascinating that there was an age (and not too long ago) where people – from the authors to the everyday – were defined by their letter writing, that it’s these artifacts through which we know them. The objets of letter writing also…