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I have too many to count  {not enough} notebooks spread throughout the house.  They tend to be like half-used jars of jelly that one finds in the refrigerator just as one is putting the freshly opened jar inside.  I have an entire shelf dedicated to opened jelly containers - even still, I find myself gently holding the amber jar of a sealed Peach jam and think I should open this...we don't have peach open! Oh, wait, we do...hmm...but it's kinda old and I really wonder what this batch will taste like...and just like that

Swoosh
there goes the seal.  Better make more room on the shelf!  So, too, goes the ways of pretty, ugly, functional, worn, cute, well-crafted, tattered, easy-in-a-pinch, lovely, smooth, rough, and [the most important] at-hand notebooks and other modes of my scribbles.  Sometimes I think they are going to take over my desk....but I always find a way to justify their existence; namely leaving them for my children to manage. I so hope each may find himself one day…

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