I read a lot and as I read, I often write a quote from a book or an idea for something I want to write. I jot down prompts. These notes and little “jottings” are written on whatever piece of paper is near me, an envelope, the back of a flyer, the bottom of a statement, whatever is nearby. And five times out of ten, these pieces of paper get thrown out as they are mistaken for trash. There go all my notes! Oh well, at least by writing them down I increase the chance that I will remember them.
In the last years before my youngest turned 18 and went off to school and a life on her own, I would look for small notebooks of blank paper that I might be able to fit in my purse or in a pocket. Not anything expensive; just some small notebook. Sometimes I was lucky and found tiny ones at the Dollar Tree, sometimes I was not so lucky and had to resort to the back of envelopes and other trashables. My daughter was usually with me when we shopped around town. In fact, it was usually my daughter that was shopping and I was just the chauffeur. I would keep myself busy “just looking” as she shopped.
For Christmas of 2012, one of the gifts she gave me was a notebook that she made in one of her classes. It’s about 5 inches wide by 3 inches tall. It is hand bound and the cover is hand covered with fabric that she selected for me. The pages are blank so I could use it without regard to staying on the lines or in the grid. It was not only a thoughtful gift but it was extra special because Susie made it herself with me in mind. She said she had made it small enough for me to fit into a purse or pocket but large enough so I could write more than a couple of lines on each page. She explained how she had selected the fabric for the cover so that it would be pretty, colorful, but not show dirt or smudges easily. I could tell she put a lot of thought into it and that made it that much more special.
I love my little book and for awhile, I was hesitant to use it so that it wouldn’t get messed up or so that I didn’t use it all up. Then I decided that I would use it as she had meant for me to use it and so now, when I sit and read a book, my little notebook is nearby ready to accept any jottings, ideas, quotes, that I might set in it. What I will do when the pages are all filled I just don’t know. In the meantime, I will enjoy it as it was meant to be used.
Wasted Days And Wasted Nights 