There are twenty of you here—readers who chose to subscribe, to return, and to spend time with this blog over the past year. That number may look small from the outside, but it doesn’t feel small to me. It means that twenty people, in a world that’s moving faster every day, chose to slow down and read words without being in a hurry.
This year, Salt, Ink & Soul became a place I didn’t fully understand until I was already inside it. A place where food could carry memory without needing to justify itself. Where children’s stories could sit beside reflections on grief, resilience, and the quiet weight of being human. Where the idea of “enough” could be asked gently, without demanding an answer right away.
Some of you read every post.
Some of you arrive when a title catches something familiar.
Some of you read quietly, without ever commenting or leaving a trace.
All of that is welcome here.
What I’ve learned this year is that writing doesn’t have to shout to be heard. It only has to be honest. Showing up—again and again—even when the words come slowly, even when the questions remain unfinished, has felt like its own kind of discipline. And knowing readers are willing to sit with that uncertainty has meant more than I can adequately say.
If you’re reading this as a subscriber, thank you for choosing to stay. Thank you for trusting this space enough to let it arrive in your inbox. Your presence—steady, patient, unassuming—has helped shape what this place is becoming.
And if you’re reading this for the first time, know this: this is a quiet corner. A place for stories about food, memory, children, and the small moments that often get overlooked. You’re welcome here, whether you pass through once or decide to stay awhile.
As the year turns, I don’t have grand promises. What I do have is intention. I’ll keep writing. I’ll keep paying attention. I’ll keep trying to make this space feel warm, thoughtful, and human—a place where reflection can breathe.
Thank you for being here at the beginning. Thank you for reading slowly. Thank you for taking the time to read words written with care.
If there’s a story you’re still waiting for, or a question you carry quietly, I hope you’ll continue to walk through this space with me. There will be more stories ahead, more moments to sit with, more chances to pause together—and I’m grateful for every reader who chooses to return.
With gratitude and hope
Kyle Hayes
Salt, Ink & Soul
If you’d like to spend more time with these themes, my books explore food, memory, resilience, and emotional truth in greater depth.
Explore the books here → Felix collections or on Amazon
Salt,Ink, & Soul 