(from my “travelling” book; originally written circa late December and really is just musings; no metaphors here!)
A friend sent a gift card to one of those upscale coffee chain stores. I tucked it into my purse for “safe keeping.”
After battling grocery store lines and getting a flu shot, I thought I’d break in the card, and treat myself. At first, I was going to get my winter regular – café americano. I thought about asking for whipped cream on top (I’ve done that before); however, at the same time, my chocolate gene piped up and next thing ya know, I’ve got some mocha concoction with whipped cream. And a mini double chocolate donut (the cutest little thing – perfect for a child’s tea party!).
Yummy; but it put a dent in the card (figuratively). Since I’m supposed to share the card with hubby, I’d better stay away til we are in this town TOGETHER, or he won’t get his share. By my estimate, there were 4 such treats available; now the number is down to 3!*
It’s that “journally time of the year, when I often get the “journal itch.” Longing for something bright, shiny, earth-toned, rugged, smooth, crisp. I am drawn in by the lovely waifs of new paper smells emanating from the Papyrus store. It pulls me in.
How many journals do you really need – especially if you don’t actually write in them – just covet, admire, pick up and put back, feel the cover and the pages. Look at the price sticker, and sigh.
Like the lovely journals today – 2 sizes, spiral bound (so as to lie flat when open, or hold folded over when writing using your lap as desktop), with elastic book mark and bright neon-colo(u)red pages. Blank – waiting for all the possibilities. A journal, an organizer, a remembories book, a finally-writing-down-my-mystery-novel book.
I close my eyes and see it’s gorgeous colo(u)rs (like glowing tropical fish against the shades of the coral reef) and high sticker price. It won’t be coming home with me today – or any day soon for that matter.
At least I got my whipped cream moustache! Thanks Jean!
*When I was in town yesterday, I stopped by to get a plain café americano (no whipped cream)(bad headache going on) and a treat for hubby. Didn’t feel good enough to stop by the stationary store to see if “my” journal was on sale.