It's a quiet passion

This is how things stand. The kids are all down with sick. Dig has left for somewhere else (not England). Playing nurse means I am holed up, plotting my notebook emporium. I have already measured out the dimensions of my WI craft stand.

You trusty blog readers may as well have advance warning.

Here are some notebooks.

Sew Me. One from the Quirks, enthusiasms, hobbies and interests range.


It's very practical, isn't it? It opens out to a felt page to store needles, because I can never find one when I want one.


The scissors don't work, obviously. I can't sell sharpened blades to the ladies at the WI. They might go berserk over by the potted lavender stand.

With supreme confidence unimpeded by practical reality, I reckon I can now create a notebook for most enthusiasts, from Scrabble players, birders, cooks and nature walkers to geologists, musicians, archaeologists and paleontologists. (I have sourced bones, after all.)

Unzip Me. A notebook for the serially sexually loose. And the zip works! I've had great fun pulling it up and down.


It's in the Sins range. I'm having great fun with that too, by the way. Love Me, Revenge Me, Chain Me, Fetish Me, Don't Marry Me. That one is particularly neat, supplied with lovehearts and rusty nails. There are going to be some great Note.Me.Note.Book Sins carried discreetly in a handbag near you.

By the way, I'm not selling Unzip Me at the WI.

Cut Me. I'm not selling this one at the WI, either. This is one from the Damaged and Dangerous range; a complete line of cruel and merciless observations on your human behaviours. This one I supply with razor blades and a rather attractive sample of handmade red flecked paper.


You self-harmers, you should cut the notebook instead of your arms. Maybe the quiet violation of book slashing can bring some catharsis. I think it could be more satisfying if the blood is metaphoric and poetic, instead of all over the carpet.

That is it for today. Now I need to turn my kind nursing gaze to my needy infants, who can offer me only the sound of retching and groaning.