Crafted With Care: A Friendship in Handmade Gifts
How my friend Julie taught me that the most lasting gifts don’t come from a store — they come from the heart (and sometimes a pottery wheel)
Some friends become part of your life gradually—through Slack threads, shared hotel rooms, and someone remembering how you take your coffee. That’s how it was with Julie. We started as colleagues, grew into close collaborators and friends, and eventually became chosen family.
When I left my corporate job, Julie retired not long after. The two weren’t connected, but it felt… poetic. Like we’d clocked out of the same season of our lives and were setting off on the next one, a season where friendship didn’t need a team calendar to thrive.
Julie is, by nature, a giver. She’s the one who notices the quiet person at the back of the room and makes a beeline to say hello. On work trips, she’d remind me to grab a sweater (“The restaurant will have AC blasting”) and always offered to hold my hotel key in her famously bottomless bag. That bag held everything — sunscreen, lip balm, and a tiny travel pharmacy. I jokingly called her my travel mom, and I meant it with complete affection.
It’s no surprise that someone who is always thinking of others also gives the best gifts — each one personal, creative, and often handmade.
Here are just a few ways Julie’s handmade magic has stayed with me through the years and distances (she lives in Colorado, and I was in Maine when we first met, and now South Carolina):
A Wedding Gift with a Side of Game Night
When Liam and I got married, Julie flew across the country to celebrate with us in Maine. Tucked into her suitcase? A handmade family game night set. She made it from recycled materials (which she knew I would love, and she was right)— everything thoughtfully nested and beautifully finished. It wasn’t just a gift. It was a celebration of connection, of play, of togetherness. And she’s given us many evenings full of laughter and fierce competition ever since.
The Mug That’s More Than a Mug
Julie once took a pottery class and hand-painted a travel mug adorned in our corporate colors and motif. It’s the perfect size, the perfect curve, and it has that comforting weight that makes a cup of tea feel like a hug. I use it all the time—not just because it’s beautiful, but because it reminds me of some of the best work times I can remember.
A Blanket That Holds More Than Warmth
There’s a knitted blanket on my bed, made in the exact colors of our room. Julie picked them intentionally and knit while thinking of warm, loving thoughts. She has told me this more than once, and I believe her. It’s a form of emotional insulation. I wrap myself in it when I’m sick, when I’m sad, when I need to feel safe, or just when I get a chill. Every time, I think: Julie made this for me with love. (I often have to wrestle the blanket away from my cat, Smudge. apparently he feels the love, too.)
From Tent Dreams to Campfire Cards
A few months after launching Field Trip, Julie sent me one of her hand-painted cards, with an image of our tent and a little glowing campfire. That card lives on my living room bookshelf, cheering me on daily. And it came from her new project, Wandering Palette — her venture into painting, knitting, and putting more beauty into the world — because her gift-giving doesn’t stop with just friends and family.
Scrubbies That Spark Joy
Leave it to Julie to make washing my face, well, a whimsical experience. She sent me a set of Wandering Palette's knit face scrubbies — bright, soft, and colorful enough to make me smile every time I wash my face. It’s a tiny detail in a mundane routine, and yet? It’s made the process more joyful.
The Playlist That Plays On
Last July, Julie and her husband, Bruce, invited Liam and me out to Colorado for the Avett Brothers concert at Red Rocks. We road-tripped our way there, camping in a different spot every night. That trip? One of my all-time favorites. And hearing The Avett Brothers under a summer sky, tucked into those epic red rocks? Unforgettable.
My love of the Avett Brothers came from Julie. On a previous visit to her home years before (yes, she's the friend with an open invitation to her place), she had a playlist going, and I found myself enjoying every single song on it. I asked who the bands were and found out it was the Avett Brothers and a handful of similar artists. She shared the playlist, and it not only introduced me to some of my now-favorite bands, but that playlist is still in heavy rotation — the soundtrack to dishwashing sessions, long drives, and shower singing sessions.
Handmade Means Heartfelt
Every holiday season, I see the same meme float around social media: “We should normalize handmade gifts.” And every year, I nod a little more emphatically.
Because handmade gifts aren’t just creative, they’re connective. They take time. They take thought. They reflect how well someone knows you. And they stick around — long after the wrapping paper’s been recycled and the store-bought trinkets have faded into the background.
Julie’s gifts are scattered across my home, and they anchor our friendship in something tangible. Even from across the country, her care is here. I see it. I feel it. I use it, wear it, drink from it. And each piece says: You matter to me.
So yes, let’s normalize handmade gifts. But more than that, let’s celebrate the people who make them — the Julies of the world — who take the time to say, “I see you” in the most creative, caring ways possible.
P.S. Julie’s creativity doesn’t stop at gifts for friends — check out Wandering Palette, where she’s sharing her hand-made art with the wider world.
