Hello, Friend! What’s new with you?

I’ve just realized that I keep sending these letters in the middle of the month to tell you what happened before, and honestly? That feels wonderfully whimsical. Instead of neat little monthly summaries, you get two halves of two different months, stitched together like postcards from slightly overlapping timelines.

The second half of July was, quite simply, magical.

First came Bad Bunny in Warsaw (on Bastille Day, of all days!), and I’m still struggling to find words big enough for it. The energy was contagious, the crowd felt alive in the best possible way, and the music itself seemed to carry some kind of healing power.

Ojitos Lindos moved me more than I expected. Hearing it live felt like finally closing a very difficult chapter of a book I had left open for far too long.

Maybe I kept one foot in that doorway because I wanted to remember how hard that chapter had been. Maybe I thought leaving it open meant I was protecting something important.

But standing there, surrounded by thousands of strangers singing the same words, I realized I was ready for the ending.

And I’m very grateful that my best friend was there to hold my hand through it ❤️

Then came Formula One 🏎️

I have never experienced anything like it before. Well - duh, it was my first time - but what surprised me most was how different it felt in my heart. It wasn’t just exciting; it felt strangely significant, as if I had stepped into a world that had been waiting for me for much longer than I realized.

Part of that intensity may have come from the fact that I got so incredibly sick. Only after I came home and saw a doctor did I learn that I had laryngitis and pharyngitis. Looking back, it explains a lot: the exhaustion, the throat pain, the feeling that my body was waving a tiny white flag while I stubbornly tried to enjoy every second of the trip.

Even so, I tried to make the most of it while still taking care of myself.

And you know what, Friend?

As I’m scribbling these words, I’m becoming convinced that the F1 girls’ trip deserves its own special issue of The Letter. The chaos, the laughter, the Hungarian heat, the racing, the unexpected emotions - there’s far too much for a single monthly letter.

Would you read a dedicated Formula One edition? I suspect the answer is yes.

Recovery, meanwhile, is still very much a work in progress. Every time I think I’m finally better, my health appears around the corner yelling “Box! Box!”, and I get thoroughly humbled back into resting, sleeping, and drinking endless cups of tea to balance out all the iced water I’ve been consuming.

Oh! One more thing happened.

I bought myself a new e-reader.

Whenever I replace a piece of technology, I feel this strange little pang of nostalgia. It’s oddly emotional to retire an old device and welcome a new one into your life. My previous e-reader had been with me for six years - through promotions, stressful work seasons, late-night reading sessions, comfort rereads, travels, buying my apartment, global pandemic and all the big and small ordinary moments that quietly become part of a life.

So yes, saying goodbye to it felt a little bittersweet.

The new one, though, already feels connected to the future: my upcoming trip, its first Christmas, long train rides, airport waiting areas… I love that books get to travel with us in this way - tiny portable worlds that witness the different versions of ourselves.

Also… A few days ago I also developed an absolutely feral craving for blueberry muffins.

So I made them.

They turned out ridiculously delicious, and now I’m tempted to believe that homemade muffins are a perfectly legitimate form of therapy. Maybe one day I’ll share the recipe here in The Letter.

And speaking of sharing - in the previous issue I told you about the list I’ve started called “Films that feel like a cup of tea.”

I have four titles on it so far:

That’s all from my little corner of the world for now: concerts that healed something tender, a first Formula One adventure, enforced rest, a new e-reader waiting for future journeys, and blueberry muffins cooling on the kitchen counter.

I hope you’ll enjoy this letter, and I hope you’ll look forward to that special F1 issue - because I have a feeling it’s going to be a particularly chaotic and heartfelt one.

This month I've been...

🌻 enjoying...
Time with family, listening to my body (it’s been through quite an ordeal with laryngitis and pharyngitis), and an alarming amount of iced lemon water.

I’ve also been getting ready for my annual leave - and if all goes well, there should be a postcard from somewhere lovely waiting for you very soon.

📚 reading...
The Butcher’s Masquerade (Dungeon Crawler Carl #5; Matt Dinniman) - my current evening hardcover read, and it continues to be gloriously chaotic.

Shift (Silo #2; Hugh Howey) - I’m nearly done with the audiobook and wow. The deeper this series goes, the more obsessed I become (pun absolutely intended).

The Animals of Farthing Wood (Colin Dann) - a complete nostalgia pick inspired by one of my favourite childhood cartoons. Reading it feels a bit like opening a forgotten toy box.

🎬 watching...
Prison Break (Disney+) - this was one of my favourite shows when I was younger, and apparently I was due for a full memory-lane rewatch.

Ted Lasso (Apple TV+) - one of the most comforting shows on television has returned for a fourth season, and I’m very happy about it.

✍ writing...
Notes for future YouTube videos (I’ve gone back to writing them by hand, which somehow makes the ideas flow better).

A piece about nostalgia, and the strange comfort of returning to the TV shows and films that once felt like home.

☕ one thing that made me smile...
I got my nails done and they are absurdly whimsical. Tiny colourful happiness painted on my fingertips - exactly the energy I needed this month.

New in my diary 📖

I’m still tinkering away at the blog behind the scenes, so while that little corner of the internet continues to evolve, I thought I’d show you something from one of my journals instead.

Because, Friend, I’ve realized I don’t really have a notebook collection anymore.

I have an ecosystem.

A tiny paper-and-ink universe where every notebook has a different purpose, personality, and level of chaos.

Today’s specimen is the lyrics notebook - the one reserved for the lines that make me stop whatever I’m doing and think: oh no, this one is staying with me forever!

So here’s a little peek into that notebook - a few of the song lines that have found a permanent home there lately.

Pages 2 and 3

I’d love to know: do you keep lyrics anywhere too, or do they live only in your head until a song comes on again?

August’s recommendation ⭐

Here are three things I think you might enjoy as much as I did.

📖 Book
Klara and the Sun by Kauzo Ishiguro - Quiet, unusual, and surprisingly emotional. It’s one of those books that gently sneaks up on you and leaves you thinking about humanity, loneliness, love, and what it really means to notice the world around you.

My favourite quote: “Sometimes, she said, at special moments like that, people feel pain alongside their happiness.”

🎬 Film
All of You (Apple TV) - Tender, funny, and bittersweet in all the right ways. It feels less like a grand romantic statement and more like spending time with real people trying to figure out their complicated hearts.

🎵 Album
This Music May Contain Hope by RAYE - Raw, honest, and beautifully vulnerable. RAYE has a way of turning difficult emotions into something strangely comforting, and this album feels like a late-night conversation with someone who truly understands.

My favourite song: Life Boat

One little whimsy ✨

I decided to do monthly lists. A monthly ten! I saw this idea somewhere (I dug deep into my Instagram to find the original creator: @juliannasalguero).

So, here is my August Monthly 10:

Looking forward to ticking more boxes on this list 💗

Thank you for being here! I'll be back soon with another postcard, more stories, and (very likely) an unreasonable amount of enthusiasm about books.