Dearest Friend of Fairy Mail,
It’s the tail-end of summer, and things are humming in the mailroom. The mushroom ink is drying just a little faster, the paper pixies are practicing their penmanship, and somewhere—beneath a patch of wild thyme and sleepy daisies—the Fairy School bell is getting ready to ring.
This time of year always brings a mix of excitement and chaos. Lost satchels, enchanted pencil cases gone rogue, and at least one dragon who thinks he’s enrolled in kindergarten again (we don’t have the heart to tell him otherwise).
Whether you’re headed back to class, planning a fairy tea party, or simply re-labeling your planner with ✨mild ambition✨—know this: your magic is most welcome here.
With ink-stained fingers and warm wishes,
Postmistress Thistledown
Keeper of Glitter, Wrangler of PDF Scrolls, Occasional Biscuit Enthusiast
🧚 What’s New in Fairy Land
Fairy Gossip & Magical Updates
The Acorn Library just reopened its spiral staircase for the school season. Reading levels range from “Ladybug Lore” to “Advanced Weather Charms for Hedgehogs.”
Mr. Thistlewick (gnome, part-time substitute) insists on using a chalkboard that levitates. It now refuses to come down.
A debate broke out in Potion Class: are mood teabags tea, or tiny emotional support spells? Jury’s still out.
Buttercup Academy has a new uniform: leaf capes with pockets. (Fashion + function = swoon.)
💌 Tiny Tales from the Mailroom
“The Case of the Spilled Glitter Ink”
Earlier this week, a shipment of enchanted glitter ink arrived from Spriggle’s Sparkle Supplies (say that five times fast). Unfortunately, the bottle popped its cork mid-delivery, coating every letter in the Romance Mailbag in shimmering pink haze. We’re still getting apologies from lovebirds who accidentally proposed instead of RSVPing to brunch.
We suspect the bottle was tampered with by a mischievous imp named Fern. He says it was an accident. He was also wearing a “Glitter Happens” t-shirt.
That’s it for this month’s dispatch!
Keep your wings warm, your pencils sharp, and your heart open for wonder.
The Mailroom doors are always open—well, unless the mushroom hinge gets sticky again.
‘Til next time,
Postmistress Thistledown