I love notebooks. And pens. Aside from books, they are among the things that can easily put the smile back on my face on dark, difficult days. I don't know why, but notebooks have been my constant companions since I was a kid.
I was not even four when my dear Grandma gave me a composition notebook covered in something pink with little flowers, and a used pencil. That notebook was my first. And it taught me more than just doodling.
Nowadays, I have lots of notebooks at home, some used and filled while others are in various conditions of use. Some of them I want to keep unused. Lately, I found these thin, wire-bound notebooks and calligraphy pens while looking for my Meads.
Serendipity, what else will you bring me?
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