These aren't your traditional love letters, they're the only way to communicate with those that have lovely things. Like chicken coops, eggs, raw milk butter and sugar cured bacon.
Sugar cured bacon.
Can you imagine? Neither can I.
When I was down to the Amish area this last time we were chatting up pig butchering and curing meat naturally came up.
I really thought it'd be a salt process and was surprised by the sugar curing. In turn, Levi and Mary seemed genuinely surprised that I was interested.
"If you have extra, I'd like some," I told them.
That was months ago. I'd long forgotten about it when my "love" letter arrived announcing extra sugar bacon.
It's snowing today and I'm suppose to go pick up MY bacon. Obviously, I can't call to reschedule and I hope they're seeing through their window what I'm seeing through mine.
But I'll send them a letter today anyway, letting them know that I won't make it. But I'll try again next week. If, for nothing else, to sit and hand write a letter, that will go in an envelope, that needs a genuine stamp.
I love letters.
Almost as much as I love bacon.