One time at Kentwell Hall Tudor reenactment, we went to see the alchemist in the woods.
After presenting us with eyeballs, and magically changing his urine - yellow to red to yellow again - he told us that you could always find an alchemist in a wood; they properly belonged together.
Not only could the woodland timber supply fire, and the forest floor provide all manner of materials for experimentation, the proper alchemical work of heating, cooling, bonding and dividing could be done here safely, away from prying eyes. Any wonderful discoveries, say towards the magical elixir of eternal life, would then be quite safe.
Meanwhile, the strange sounds, coloured plumes of smokes, sparks and crackles of light emanating from the trees would, amongst the locals, only add to tales of alchemical mystery and power.
Better still, outdoors in the woodland clearings, he could leg it sharpish if his experiment blew up his hut.
This notebook then, for alchemists in woodlands.
I shall take the example from the alchemist. I shall hide myself away in my own forest room, allow only explosive profanities to escape from me when I bugger up the stitching, and emerge, clutching the elixir of eternal youth!
Or at least a few very handy notebooks on a woodland magic theme, just in time for the Christmas crafts festival at Marston Vale.