I used to hang holiday cards from a piece of twine stretched across the living room wall, just like Martha Stewart. Now, I'd be lucky to cover a single kitchen cabinet with the cards I've received—or rather, not received—this year.

Between the 44-cent cost of a first-class stamp and the fact that so many people stay in touch all year through social media, holiday cards are beginning to vanish.

As one friend put it, "Why bother when everyone has already seen your daughter with her braces off on Facebook."

"Who has time to address and stamp 30 envelopes?" added another.  "I still have a box of cards I bought five years ago that I never got around to sending."

It's too soon to tell whether e-cards will take off. The only person I actually know who sends them is my Uncle Joe from the Bay Area. Every holiday from Thanksgiving to New Year's, he e-mails animated cards from JacquiLawson.com. They're always adorable, though I have to admit it often takes me several days to open them because my e-mail queue is always so full. 

Some electronic greetings allow you to personalize cards with photos and messages. JibJab.com has a menu of hysterical animated cards on which you can easily upload your own photos. (Check out this card I made on JibJab with pictures of my dog, Lulu.)

A trainer at my gym was thrilled when she received a yuletide e-mail from an old friend that had a Jethro Tull YouTube video attached.  The e-mail said, "This reminded me of you" because she had been a big Tull fan when the two were college roommates. 

Environmental types also embrace the electronic approach. "Nothing brings out my green Grinch more than opening my mailbox to a stack of season's greetings," wrote one columnist. 

Not everyone agrees, though. My sister-in-law, Peggy, always sends beautiful photo cards that I either frame or put in a photo album. I am pleased she isn't planning to stop any time soon.

"E-cards are impersonal," Peggy said.  "I don't mind sending real cards and we enjoy getting them."

So do I, especially ones with handwritten notes or photos.  For the past decade, my husband's aunt and uncle, both in their 70s, have been sending a photo card of themselves standing on their heads.  And call me corny, but I love those year-end wrap letters.

Truthfully, though, I also love that I get fewer cards, in a way. The mortgage broker we used in 1995 and the business acquaintance whose name my husband can never remember have finally cut us from their lists, which is great.

I may not have enough cards to string across the living room wall. But the ones I do get are from people I actually know and know I'm important to.