I love the curves of the script in my paternal grandmother Anne's handwritten recipes,  the neat 4x6 cards, and the soft paper of the alphabetic dividers. I never knew my paternal grandmother, as I spread out her recipe cards I laughed at how much meat she cooked and the bare-bones ingredients she used, the daughter of an Irish-born mother, I suspect they made the most out of the little they sometimes had. My maternal grandmother and her sisters shared recipes on the envelopes and letters they mailed to one another, to and from cities we have lived in for generations. It is so rare I write a recipe by hand for my daughters, looking at these always pushed me to do so.