A slightly feral herb lady named April wants to be your pen pal!
You know that feeling when there's something in the mailbox that isn't a bill? That little jolt — real mail, for you? That's the whole thing. That's what I'm mailing.
Out here the seasons do their slow turning, the plants keep teaching me things, and I can't keep any of it to myself.
So I write it all down and send it out — and somewhere across the country, you're standing at your mailbox grinning at an envelope. And when you write back?
Best part of my week. There's a letter out there with your name on it, friend.
That's a lot of good mail days in one box!
Let's be clear about what lands in your mailbox, because this is not a photocopied newsletter situation.
These are real letters on thick linen paper — the kind that feels like something in your hands.
Each herb letter is me pouring out everything I know about one plant I love: how she grows, how I actually work with her, what to watch out for, the stuff you won't find on a tea box.
I've spent my life learning these plants, and now I get to share it all with a friend who wants to hear it.
Your second letter is a true letter from a friend — what's blooming, what the critters are up to, what life out here in the woods has been throwing at me — written like the old days, sealed and stamped by hand, and dropped in the mail to find you.
Good mail days go both ways!
Write me back! Truly — hearing from you is my favorite part of all this. Every letter I send has my address tucked right on it, so when you're done reading, you know where to find me.
Tell me how your oil turned out, what's growing in your garden, how life's been treating you lately. Every letter that shows up gets read start to finish, usually before I even make it home.
And if you draw a little star on your envelope, I just might read it and answer you live on YouTube!
Okay, but how does this actually work?
Twice a month. One letter is a love letter to the herbs — a plant I'm tending, what she offers, why she's stayed with me. The other is more personal, the kind of note you'd get from a friend who sits down to tell you how things really are. Two letters, a couple of weeks apart, all year long.
I send them out about every two weeks — once around mid-month, once near the end. They travel the slow way, by real mail, so give them a few days to find you. Real mail, real connection, the way it used to be.
I do — and shipping's on me wherever you are. US, Canada, Europe, it's all free. I didn't want a bit of distance and some extra postage to leave anyone out.
You can cancel, pause, or skip whenever life asks you to — you'll have your own little portal for it. The only thing out of my hands is a letter already on its way, but everything after is yours to steer, with no guilt about it.