The Art of Maintaining Victorian Correspondence

Good morning, my darlings,

Did you make a cup of tea? I made my very first Victoria Sponge Cake. I cleaned out a pretty ol' flower tin and lined it with wax paper for the leftover bits of cake, as, according to the chef for The Queen, that is what one does with the uneaten bits.

I thoroughly love the art of letter writing. As early as I can recall, being a young girl capable of holding a writing instrument (pencil), I diligently worked to master not only my penmanship but also letter writing. The art of letter writing has kept me in good stead for life as my soul led me quite early on once captured. Once, whilst in my thirties, I made the New Year's resolution to write five letters to friends weekly for an entire year. I never missed it once. Of all five ladies, with the exclusion of one friend, correspondence was not reciprocated. To this day, I still cherish those letters from my friend Debby. I have letters and cards stored away in my father's smithy saved from childhood.
My darling, dear reader and friend, as you know, I created {Raquel's Letterbox in-the-Hedge}, which you can find here and write to me. Feel free to write whatever you'd like to your heart's content. You can ask me questions if you'd like or send me whatever you feel inspired to. I constructed this particular notion as another way to reflect on times gone by. I look upon the Victorian era as best as I can and strive to impart my thoughts and findings to you, dear heart. I believe quite strongly there are many women similar to me (perhaps not as daring and adventurous) regarding the Victorian way of life in general but with particular subjects like letter writing, most definitely. I have been fascinated with the Victorian era since childhood. I love imparting my knowledge and discoveries. My concept of hearkening baxk to the good ol' days of letter writing will attract my kind of woman, a like-minded sort. I have been working most diligently these last several years to embark on my way of life as a Victorian, through living as much as i can daily as a Victorian. Many challenges arise.

One of those things is that it is relatively rare for many to share the same obsession with Victorian living as I do. I am not upset or disillusioned by this notion; far be it, i have concluded that it sets me apart from others. Conceivably, my silver lining, darling. Do not be under the impression I am putting on airs and that I do not understand that everything is never what it seems. The dynamics of one's life are full of mystery, is it not? We are in a constant state of growth. We as women are so full of possibility and wonderment, and I immensely admire that about us; we are individually so very unique. Whereas i am making great strides to learn historically all i can and then to incorporate those bits into my real life, it is an ongoing voyage and always will be.

This concept of letter writing is in hopes that it will attract my kind of folks. Throughout these past few years, i have endeavoured to create a little Victorian society of a bygone era where women and young women alike can bond over old-fashioned notions. In 2019, when my dear boy transitioned, I decided to dive even more deeply into living as Victorian as possible. That began with my clothing and wearing a corset. Now, mind you, it was not an overnight process once I decided to embark on this ongoing venture. Even more so, my findings have been that there aren't too many other souls that I have met or learned of that are quite so smitten to the degree I am. I do understand that many folks like the idea of an old-fashioned life; however, when it truly comes to the bits and bobs of such a life (with exceptions, of course), I have found they like to decorate and, on occasion, wear some collected Victorian period clothing to a tea party for example. Other than that, they turn their nose to the notion of actually attempting to live like a Victorian.

Now, as I have shared previously, if you were to pop in to visit me at my little Scarlette Rose cottage, the illusion may break your heart. I say this because as much as i do have an old icebox and lanterns for lighting, i currently have to use a hot plate, as i haven't saved enough financially yet to afford my 19th-century wood-burning stove. The one I've been eyeing is well over 6000 dollars. Nor have I yet to save the funds for the exterior stone or thatching to envelop the cottage, and the outhouse requires a 3000-dollar commode. I have to follow a specific code for an outhouse configuration. I will get there eventually, though, don’t you worry? All is well, and when i do, i will invite you to tea. However, i do not allow any of those sorts of drawbacks to waiver me in my desires, for what would the fun of life be if we had everything at a moment's notice? In truth, we would be as bored as one could be.
Our world is based on gravitational pull. Furthermore, our dear little hearts couldn't take things in an instantaneous manner.

Inherently, our lives are achieved by softly falling into place with ease and delight. The ticket is to learn to embrace this notion, which is not as easy to acquire for most folks. I am creating a sweet bequest of a Victorian english cottage. I am an American, although I moved to Europe when I was six weeks old. My father was in the war. I always think that living in Europe at such a young age significantly impacted my psyche. Call me mad; however, my mum is right mad for English too and has always been since I can remember drawing breath.

I am currently sitting in my parlour (makeshift sewing area) with kerosene light all aglow. All the world is quiet. I have a hot cup of Fortnum and Mason tea as I write to you. I enjoy handwriting the post for the blog and then transcribing it onto the computer. It suits me well, and there's something about (and scientific proof it relates to the brain of connection) when we physically write. I think the actual writing of the hand and stringing words together sounds lovelier than merely typing onto a screen anyway.
Many hearts have stood broken upon visiting Tasha Tudor Little Corgi Cottage. I have heard many women declare they lost the fantasy of illusion upon discovering that Tasha Tudor had a little modern kitchen off the back of her home for appliances. First, one must understand that the art of becoming a Victorian woman is not instantaneous, just as in real life; there are seasons and gestational periods; nothing happens overnight. In this manner, I look very forward to daily visits to the post-awaiting keenly. I am faintly dissatisfied with the modern envelopes these days; hence, when I send you letters in return, I must ask the post to hand cancel each letter as thee' ol' wax and seal will not go through the machine. Have a lovely day, and i look forward to hearing from you.

Most affably yours til my next swim, Razz