I snatched these vintage notecards from a garage sale. It was the kind of garage sale that just smelled like greatness.
Stacks of lovely old tablecloths and embroidered handkerchiefs lined card-tables. Each one, perfectly pressed with hardly a spot, because that's how she kept them.
Little glass trinkets all in rows and mason jars that probably held a blue ribbon worthy jam or jelly or pickle.
Stacks and stacks of stationary. And these notecards. Even the boxes are pure charm. Delicate grown-up handwriting is sprawled across the cardboard top. Reminders of loved ones who need reaching out to.
Just a lovely little reminder that before email addresses reigned and Facebook became supreme... there was mail.