Hey, remember back in the days of yore when I wanted to make “creating envelopes out of unusual materials” a thing?
In November, I showed you, gleefully, the envelopes I’d crafted from a recycled roll of wallpaper, hoping to kick off a glorious new age of extensively eccentric envelope fabrication–and then I proceeded to spend the next eight months making envelopes out of nothing but magazine pages.
There’s no time like the present, though, and I’m happy to say that in my continued quest to catch up on all the pen pal letters I owe (if you’re still waiting on me, you should have yours soon!), I decided to turn my manufacturer’s eye to a new substance: wrapping paper. (Specifically, ridiculously cutesy forest creature wrapping paper probably designed for literal babies but I don’t particularly care.)
Never has a mail haul so inspired me to quote John Donne! I know I tend to describe basically everything stamped that’s sent my way as “magical,” but these letters are enchanting in the most unique of ways. Mythical creatures of all kinds have traveled to me from Argentina, Iceland, Norway, and the U.K. over the past few weeks!
Wondering where I’ve been this past week? If you’ve ever had to experience the joy of wisdom teeth surgery, I’m sure I needn’t say more. I survived, though, and in the meantime, received some beautiful letters that I read after emerging from the mental fog of oral surgery!
As I rest and weep and wait for that far-off day when I can eat carrots and blue corn chips again, I have plenty of vintage-inspired mail to keep me company. I say “vintage-inspired,” but what I really mean is “one letter that looks genuinely vintage, as in styled after a kind of mod 60s look, while the other reminds me of nineteenth-century natural history.” Pretty cool either way!
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!
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.
So, folks, in my attempt to take a moderate hiatus from frequent blogging, I’ve been holding out on you: I’ve been sitting on the best incoming mail post of all time for the past few weeks. Before 2017, I had received mail from only three of the world’s continents – Europe, North America, and South America.
And now I can add Antartica to that thrilling list!
If you’re gazing at these adorable penguin postmarks and wishing you too could be so lucky to see them in your mailbox, fear not! Any citizen of the world can request up to two philatelic postal covers per year from the U.S. research station, McMurdo, down south. The entire experience has been utterly magical from start to finish – maybe you’ll join me and try it out yourself?
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.