problem habit has lead me many places. I have been to Japanese stationery stores in San Francisco and New York. My notebook addiction fancy even lead one of my friends to a Japanese stationery store in San Francisco on my very own behalf. (She is a true friend.)
I follow blogs that wax poetic about analogue tools. I don’t have a philosophical dedication to writing on paper and planning on paper, I just like it. It works for me. I like the tactile, and because I spend all day gazing at the computer screen, I’m glad to be offline sometimes.
Last week I went truly analogue. I was just getting down to work, when I realized my Internet wasn’t working. This realization was quickly followed by another. The power was out. It was a sunny day, although cold. There was no storm, no wind, just an aging grid in a rural state.
I futzed around with my book manuscript—maybe the power was about to come back on?—but I was getting cold. So I lit a fire in the basement woodstove (one match, Paul), because January is not a good time have a modern house without heat and bugged out.
I walked into the coffee shop only to be greeted by my next-door neighbor. And we sat together, grumbled, drank coffee, and worked on our individual projects in cranky harmony. I had peach jam shortbread and cup of coffee. My toes warmed up. I came up with a list of questions I could work on with my books rather than with my computer. And when I ventured back home the power was on, the woodstove was cranking away, and my dog had not become a poodlecicle.