The Journal that Found Me

Last month, I reached the end of a journal. My quest for a new journal included having paper that would be thick enough for me to use my fountain pens on. GSM (grams per square meter) – if included a journal label, is usually the smallest font of information. I share that to say that the hunt to find a new journal became not just macro – color, size, appeal – but also ventured into micro – the kind where I squint my eyes and extend my arms to try to find information. 

The story ends well with that treasure hunt. I found a journal that I liked. The label didn’t include GSM, but I was able to find out that it would work using my phone. 

Journal is home. My fountain pen does not bleed through the paper. All is well. 

AND THEN – last week I was on vacation. In a small provision sort of store, I turned around a corner and found a whole display of beautiful journals. Not just journals, but Peter Pauper Press journals. Peter Pauper Press has been the creator of some of my favorite stationery and journals. And they are just out there in the wild. It requires going to their website and trusting what you see in the image and paying shipping. 

So a whole display rack of these journals is a rare sighting. (If I had a life list for journal spotting this would be the prized entry.) 

One journal drew my eye immediately. I grabbed it searching for GSM – it hit the mark. Color, size, appeal, GSM. 

So what did I do? I immediately began to second guess myself. ‘We’re on vacation. Our spending money isn”t for journals. It’s for vacation-y things.’ 

Fortunately, Marc has seen the whole thing and didn’t let me get away with it. So I’ve got my next journal way before I need it, and it gives me so much joy.

What this has me thinking about this week as we wade through loads of laundry is that this find was totally unexpected. Journals weren’t on my vacation shopping list. The store was mostly a grocery provision store. It was an accidental find – but one that I would normally spend a lot of time and effort searching for. 

All it took was going around a corner. And it was there. Like it was waiting and looking for me. 

Whimsical Emily wonders – what else is waiting to surprise and delight me? 

And these days, I think that is quite the treat of a question.