Index cards in three different hands. A church cookbook with the spine broken at page 40. Something torn from a magazine in 1987. Your mother's handwriting on the back of an envelope, and underneath it, in different ink, a note she added later: use half the sugar.
I started Butter & Ink because I tried to do this for my own family and found out how hard it actually is. Not the printing. The reading. Deciding whether a smudge says 1 tsp or 1 tbsp. Realizing the note in the margin about a neighbor who brought this over after a funeral matters more than the recipe does. Understanding that a card written at a bridal shower should be photographed and kept exactly as it is, not retyped into oblivion.
So I built a process that treats both kinds of pages with the respect they deserve. Typed and printed recipes get rebuilt clean and consistent, so you can actually cook from them. Handwritten cards get scanned and placed on a beautiful page, untouched, with all the loops and cross-outs and coffee rings intact. Every side note, every "Aunt Kam's," every don't substitute the cream cheese comes with it.
Then I bind it so it survives a kitchen.
If you have a drawer like that one, and you've been meaning to do something about it for longer than you'd like to admit, I'd be glad to help you finish it.