I had a laugh yesterday. My mother's friend Margaret baked a cake for my birthday and was astonished by my thank-you note. "I thought it had come from Buckingham Palace!" she exclaimed to my mum.
Not quite, more like a one-bedroom apartment in downtown Auckland.
It's true though, that receiving personal correspondence from me might be a fairly unique experience. Not that there's an awful lot to it: I use paper handmade
in Florence because I absolutely love that it's plain on the outside but beautiful when opened. I write with a Visconti fountain pen
because it's also made in Florence and I'm nostalgic, remembering better days on the Ponte Vecchio
Both of which matter to me but probably don't to the recipient. What I think they notice most is the seal, my family crest. To create this I have this sort of spoon thing. I put wax into it then heat the spoon with a spirit candle. When the wax melts I pour it onto the letter and impress the seal.
And that's it. Sorry everyone who thought there was more to it.