But today all I can do and think is notebooksnotebooksnotebooks.
Just for today, ignore the children. They can hide themselves away with books and audio stories and soil.
I have them trained well in this independent home ed lark, have I not?
Anyway, it's fair. I am teaching myself how to make lovely notebooks. The kids can go off and teach themselves how to build a fridge, how to smelt iron ore, and how to lead a Mogoshiki Warrior from the Clan Thurror through the secret unlocking spell to release the tribe from the perilous Lake of Death by page 224 before the Beast of H'throngar comes to eat them in Chapter 13.
Frankly, I don't care, so long as everyone's quiet and leaving me alone to make these:
Catch Me. For people who are hopelessly seeking what they cannot have. You're doomed! You'll never have it! Believe me, I know. Let us keep our secrets safe in here. (This one, I'll put on Etsy, and promise not to write my confessions in it first.)
Knit Me. How can the world survive without your mug cosies, Aran sweaters which boil your eyeballs at 3000C, and a selection of knitted bootees for dollies? You need a notebook for those inspirational moments, ladies.
Tell Me. Not for sale, as yet, but generating a range of pocket notebooks for story tellers. (Who needs Moleskine, when you can have Grit?)
FSKGW ME. I need to sell these at Scrabble conventions. They'd sell like hto ckesa.
That is it. And all I can say about the passion is, I'm sorry.
PS. Gritsday Etsy.
1 comment:
These are some interesting notebooks. It seems you are creating works of art to be looked at and fondled and keepsaked. They deserve a well placed spot on someone's desk in the limelight/
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