What could be a more appropriate distraction from my newfound fear of flying than The Faerie Handbook, a volume dedicated to winged creatures? It was with this logic that I toted this gorgeous, enormous tome in my carry-on luggage to Europe and back this past winter, hoping its lush pages might soothe my anxiety mid-flight. I waited in the terminal clutching it behind my boarding pass, too afraid to leave the book in my backpack and risk loosing access to it after the captain had turned back on the fasten seatbelts sign.
I shouldn’t bury the lede: my air travels are less relevant than my general adoration for this book by the creators of Faerie Magazine. Still, its detailed, whimsical contents did indeed prove a panacea to some of my turbulence terrors…so that’s saying something!
These past December days, I’ve felt most frustratingly filled with the holiday spirit – and completely unable to act upon my gift-giving urges!
A cloud of end-of-the-semester papers and grading looms over me, and, meteorologists suggest, will likely stick around for the next few weeks. As Christmas creeps closer, I’d love to devote my evenings to putting together my festive outgoing mail: perhaps some study breaks are in the distant future?
In any case, for convenience’s sake, I happen to work at a historic house museum with an extraordinary gift shop that’s proven a perfect place to finish my holiday shopping. I might not be able to make any envelopes out of that incredible William Morris paper yet – but at least I have it on hand!
What incredible luck I’ve had with “seconds” pins of late! My newly beloved mousemoth pin (about which I apparently cannot stop talking) is practically perfect in every way, even though I bought it at a wonderful discount, and, in a similar vein, I am nothing but impressed by this seconds-sale enamel pin with a courageous theme from The Clever Clove on Etsy. (Watch me refer to it not-so-sneakily in every one of next week’s updates!)
As I’ve alluded in previous posts (to put it lightly), exactly a week ago I faced a surgical fear that has haunted me for nearly a decade. I know that wisdom teeth extractions are pretty commonplace here in the states, but as someone with incredible needle anxiety, I have dreaded this day since I first turned sixteen and learned that I did indeed have a quartet of those unwanted beasts. I had to get it done–and I was remarkably brave in the days leading up to it!–so when I randomly stumbled upon* this beautifully designed pin quoting my favorite inspirational lion, I figured it had to be a good totem to carry with me before this bleak venture!
*I really need to stop searching “seconds sale pins” on Etsy and wantonly coveting whatever pretty things catch my attention–but it’s just such fun, and I love to support small businesses and artists!
Last week, several museum visitors complimented my aggressively pastel, spring-themed attire: a delight, considering that during every other time the year everyone just gazes bemusedly at my seasonally inappropriate color schemes. Flowers, however, are blooming, and humans are apparently allowed to wear mint and lavender again. What a time to be alive!
It looks like my pen pals are on board with this May-ready palette, sending me a variety of softly-hued snail mail–all perfectly complementing the charmingly named “Allure Pastel Blend” of Alyssum seeds pictured above!
Two blog posts in one week after my extended hiatus? It’s no April Fool’s joke, don’t worry! (My Polish-American heritage means my childhood springtime holiday of choice is “Dyngus Day,” anyway.)
This flow magazine postcard from my German pen pal quite aptly sums up my lifestyle lately. I’m trying to strike the balance between spending offline and continuing to pursue my digital hobbies (which includes blogging!). Thanks for your patience with me as I enjoy this luxurious existence!
Speaking of the joys of offline communication: let’s take a look at some springtime letters!
I’ve never mastered the art of sending pressed flowers or herbs through the mail – dried blossoms always seem to crumble the second I tuck them in an envelope, and as I’m not quite living my dream life of “being a child living in the country in an idealized Victorian-inspired fairy world,” I don’t own a home flower press. Yet.
If I can’t send actual blooms, though, handmade pressed flower and leaf envelopes are the next best thing! An old how-to brochure about immortalizing these ephemeral pieces of plant life has now been reincarnated into outgoing mail.
It’s been a while since my last regular snail mail post – so here is an extra-resplendent pen pal roundup to compensate for lost time!
Over the past few weeks, a weird chronic pain issue has kept me from my usual bad-posture-requisite activities like blogging and making envelopes. You might have noticed that my posts are terser than usual: there’s only so much time I can spend typing until I get better!
Still, mail carries on, and I have some beautiful letters to which I can reply as soon as I become a little more limber again.