I have been making things by hand for a long time. Skincare, candles, anything creative. Things you can hold, smell, use up and come back for. But a few months ago I wanted to make something different. Something that didn't sit on a shelf or wait to be ordered. Something that just showed up.

That's how Letters from Laura started.

Once a month, I sit down and write a real letter. Not a newsletter, not a broadcast, not content. A letter, the way you'd write to a friend who loves slow mornings and a good kitchen project and the feeling of a porch in the right season. I write it by hand first, then I print it on good paper and fold it myself. I stamp the envelope. I mail it.

WHAT'S INSIDE

Every month has a theme that matches what's actually happening outside. Porch season. Strawberry season. The first cool morning when you want to bake something. The envelope is stamped with a seasonal motif, copper embossed, and it changes every single month. By December they're collectible.

Inside the letter there's always a little list. Things I'm noticing, using, loving. A thrift find. A free app. A small joy, the kind that's easy to miss if you're moving too fast. There's always a recipe too, printed on a double-sided postcard, the kind you keep.

This year I'm building one long thread through the kitchen, where each recipe connects to the one before. Making butter becomes the buttermilk ranch dressing and the best pancakes you've ever had. The vanilla extract you start in June will be ready just in time for the holidays, and when you make Irish cream in December and add it to your homemade chocolate sauce, you'll understand why you started it in June.

There's also always an insert. Something useful, something keepable. A porch styling card. A pressed flower bookmark. A seed packet in a little kraft envelope with three butterflies hidden inside the flap. It depends on the month. It always connects to the letter. I don't put anything in there that I wouldn't want to find myself.

WHY SNAIL MAIL

Honestly? Because it's the one thing that still feels like it's just for you. Email gets scrolled past. A text disappears into a thread. But something in the mailbox, something someone sealed and stamped and sent on purpose, that still lands differently. It still matters. I think it matters more now than it did ten years ago.

A few of the people who subscribed when Letters from Laura first launched wrote to me. Real notes. Kathie told me she sat on her porch and read it slowly. Rosalyn said she hadn't gotten something in the mail that was actually for her in years. My mentor, who I've known for a long time, subscribed! Those responses told me everything I needed to know.

I know some of my subscribers are sending it as a gift. Someone to check in on. Someone who lives alone. Someone going through a season where a monthly letter showing up might mean more than it sounds like. I think about that every time I sit down to write one.

A NOTE ON HOW IT WORKS

Letters from Laura is mailed once a month. The letter arrives the first week of the month.

Each issue is a little different. But the feeling is always the same. Unhurried. Specific. Made by hand by one person in Connecticut who really does believe that slow living isn't a trend. It's just how some of us are wired.