InCoWriMo and Sealing Wax

February is International Correspondence Writing Month, InCoWriMo for short.  The idea is to send a letter, postcard, or note everyday in the month.  This is the second year I've participated in this postal extravaganza. 

Today I wrote a long overdue letter to a penpal, and I thought I would embellish it with a wax seal.  I'm a pretty crafty person.  It's not often that I have a craft failure, but my history with sealing wax has been dismal.  I am a sealing wax klutz. But the memory of my last wax disaster had faded, so I thought I'd give it another go.  

 

After burning my thumb, setting a paper towel on fire, and ruining an envelope with an ugly seal, I remembered that I had ordered a sealing wax spoon right after my last wax failure.  Miraculously, I found it in my craft room without having to tear the place up.  Then - for the ka-zillionth time - I settled down in my chair with my iPad and watched videos about sealing wax.  I even found one that showed the spoon method.  Here's the happy result.  If I were a rooster, I'd crow!

 

 As per the Youtube instructions, I held the spoon over a lighted candle and rubbed the stick of sealing wax around in the spoon until I had a nice pool of melted wax.  This nifty little spoon has a tiny spout so I poured the melted wax on the envelope and stamped it with my crown wax stamp.  Success!  Of course, some people have success by simply holding the wax stick over the candle until the end begins to melt and dripping melted wax directly onto the envelope.  When I do this I end up with burned fingers and black soot in the melted wax.  From now on it's the spoon for me! -------- By the way, if you want to participate in InCoWriMo, but don't know who to write to, my address is on the envelope above.

The Surrender of the Letter

I've been thinking - when you're beginning to look like an eccentric silly old woman to the young set in your family it's time to make some changes.  I think I'm starting to look that way because I've persisted in sending them postal mail - maybe not frequently, but regularly.  And I have wondered why a letter in the mail doesn't thrill them like it thrilled me in my youth.

Why were letters so thrilling when I was young?  Because they were the only line of communication, of course.  No, I wasn't born before the telephone was in common use, but long distance calls were costly, and so the only way to communicate inexpensively was the postal service.  I suppose I still like letters because they bring back memories of the excitement I always felt when Daddy came home from the post office with letters from far-off relatives.

You learned about deaths and catastrophies via a long distance call, so you could count on a letter to have happy news or at least the news of everyday life.  Letters were often saved - sometimes in pretty old hat boxes or attractive candy boxes after the candy was gone.  It wasn't unusual for them to be passed down to the next generation.  A lot of family histories have been preserved in letters.  In fact, a lot of our nation's history has been passed down in letters.

But today a letter is hardly a blip on any young person's radar screen.  And - now that I think about it - why should it be?  We all communicate by text now.  Even e-mail is outmoded for personal communication.  As fast as a thought comes into our heads, we can communicate it to someone else and they receive it instantaneously.  No wonder today's youth view letters as unneccessary or even annoying.  No doubt I'd feel the same if I had grown up in this hi-tech age.  

So I've decided to surrender to technology and discontinue postal mail to the young set.  When you have to text to inquire if a letter was received two or three weeks after it was mailed, it's time to make a change. I'll continue to write to my old friends - or, to be more precise - to my friends who are old.  They have the same thrilling postal memories that I have.

The Morning Update

It's cloudy and 80 degrees.  I'm looking out on our maple tree.  It has clothed itself with fresh new leaves.  Even the pecans trees are putting out new foliage, so spring is here in earnest.

I've written a post card to a new Fountain Pen Network friend.  She lives in Ynys Mon, Wales - the Isle of Anglesey.  I've been "visiting" there via the internet.  It's an intriguing place! 

Last month I received the First Day of Issue Cover that I ordered from the Royal Mail.  It has the new United Kingdom stamps commemorating Jane Austen and the six novels she wrote. A First Day of Issue Cover is an envelope with newly released postage stamps affixed and post marked on the first day the stamps are authorized for use.  I have a First Day of Issue Cover from 1956 with stamps commemorating Grace Kelley's marriage to Prince Rainier of Monaco.  I was a serious stamp collector when I was a child.  I still have my collection, but have only recently started to add to it.

I've had to turn the TV off.  It's so frustrating to hear about all the suffering brought on by the bombings in Boston and know that you are helpless to do anything about it.  Pray.  That's all I can do.  Pray for all those who are injured and the families of those who have died.  It's heartbreaking.

I'm off my housekeeping schedule.  The laundry should have been done Monday, but I'm doing today.  While the new washer is making all its strange sounds, I'm upstairs - in the Far Corner - my refuge from the activity of downstairs.

But now it's time for me to go back downstairs and check on the corned beef brisket that simmering on the stove - and get butternut squash ready to go in the Ninja Cooker.  More later . . .

And Winter Came

Another rainy, dreary winter day.  I've been listening to Enya's Christmas album called And Winter Came.  Every one of the twelve songs on this album is priceless.  Some have Enya's familiar other-worldly beauty, but others - like "One Toy Soldier" and "My! My! Time Flies!" are a little more traditional than Enya's usual fare.  "One Toy Soldier" has an engaging tune and a steady martial beat - good music for getting things done.

There are five more Christmas cards on my desk to be answered.  I didn't send Christmas cards this year.  What can I say?  It was a "fly by the seat of your pants" Christmas, and there just wasn't time for the usual card sending.  But we did receive a few cards that I want to acknowledge, so I'm answering one a day.

The book of Christmas piano music that I ordered last week came in today - not that I didn't already have Christmas piano music, but these are new arrangements.  I'm looking forward to playing all my Christmas favorites - something I never have time to do before Christmas.

I took the Christmas wreaths off the front and side doors today.  Why did I do this in light of the fact that I've decided to keep all the indoor Christmas decorations until Valentine's Day?    Is it that I don't want to advertise my Christmas eccentricity to the world?  Maybe I did it out of kindness to those who say they don't like Christmas and are always glad when it's over.  Anyway - the wreaths are packed and ready to go in the attic until next Christmas.

Tuesday is house cleaning day around here.  I just finished mopping the kitchen and living room floors.  I hate mopping - and not because it makes my back ache.  I hate it because no matter how meticulous you are about sweeping and/or vacuuming, when you begin to mop you'll encounter little bits of debris that you missed.  There are tiny unidentifiable bits of "stuff" in addition to the occasional piece of hay that made its way in from the barn.  There is always a little more vacuuming to do after the floor dries.

We couldn't watch the opening episode of the third season of Downton Abbey on Sunday night, so we recorded it and watched it last night.  It felt like a visit with long lost relatives.  I got attached to all these Downton characters during the last two seasons.  At one point in this opening episode, Robert Crawley (Lord Grantham) said he felt like a wild animal whose habitat is being encroached upon.  I know what he means.  Sometimes the culture that surrounds you changes so fast that it's impossible to change along with it.   We give in to the new cultural changes when we must or when we honestly think they are changes for the better.  But who can happily give in to changes that do violence to what you hold dear?  As some wise person once said, "I can only go so far on the fashion train."

Under a Buttermilk Sky

I was out in the pasture - on the tractor - early this morning to help Jerry with the routine manure-moving detail.  The temperature was bearable, and we worked under a perfect buttermilk sky.  I'm not sure what a buttermilk sky means weatherwise, but I like the atmosphere that it gives to all outdoors - and it reminds me of that old cowboy song called "Buttermilk Sky."

Bathing the horses was next on our agenda.  The fungal and/or bacterial skin infection that Tesoro developed a few weeks ago is cleared up now, but it took several baths in an iodine shampoo and regular treatment with an anti-fungal spray.  Summer is the worst season for the horses when it comes to skin problems.  They do a lot of sweating as they graze under the hot summer sun.  The salty sweat attracts all kinds of biting insects, and that makes existing skin problems worse.  The best prevention is frequent bathing and daily spraying with fly spray.

We've purchased a new washer and dryer - catapulting ourselves into the world of 21st century laundry.  These appliances are a far cry from the ones they replaced.  They're computerized and are, no doubt, smarter than I am.  I was most surprised by the washer's repertoire of sounds - falling water, pounding surf, airplane sounds (taking off and landing), and various groans and moans.  None of these sounds are loud.  In fact, these machines are remarkably quiet.  They are big - the size of small automobiles.  Ok, I'm exaggerating, but the dryer door definitely has the feel of a car door when it closes.  Will they clean the laundry better than the old appliances?  Maybe.  We'll see.  I can certainly wash and dry more clothes at a time in these big high-capacity machines.  That means I finish the laundry in about half the time - and that's a good thing!

Activity in my Addis post office box has increased lately. I've managed to find the time to send a few letters and do a little paper crafting.  I recently sent this summery watermelon card off to California.  In the last two weeks I've received letters from Texas, England, Australia, and India - and posts cards from Indiana, California, and New Mexico.  I like hearing about the daily lives of my pen pals.  No matter the geographical and cultural differences, we have a great deal in common - children and grandchildren, as well as homes, pets, and gardens to care for.

 

The twins are doing well, and their sister, Ellie, is adjusting to having them at her house.  I guess she's decided it's sort of like day-care at home.  Wallace and Arabella have started school up in north Louisiana.  Arabella texted me yesterday that she has ten teachers this year!  Was that a typo?  Can she possibly have ten teachers?  I'll have to text and ask for more information.  Texting with my grandchildren!  What would my mother and grandmother think of this new technology!

My current sewing projects are burp cloths for the new twins and crocheted doll clothes.  The tiny burp cloth on the top of the stack is for Ellie and her dolls.  My mornings and evenings are spent in the barn, but the blazing mid-day is a good time to be inside - sewing or reading or writing letters.

I've joined an online book discussion group, sponsored by the Trollope Society.  It's called "Take a Trollope on Holiday." Ha! The assignment is Anthony Trollope's Phineas Phinn - one of the Palliser novels.  Trollope is one of my favorite authors, and I read The Palliser series years ago.  But a good book is always worth re-reading.

 

It's true that August is the middle of high summer, but - along with the heat and humidity - it always brings hints of fall.  The angle of the sun is noticeably different.  The pecan tree in the pasture is shedding leaves.  It's always the last to put out new growth in the spring, but the first to send fall leaves raining down.  This morning as I walked to the back of the barn, I saw a large flock of birds along the bayou bank.  I startled them, and they all took flight at once.  I don't know what kind of birds they were, but their lift-off was a beautiful sight.  Migrating birds - another hint of fall.

Busy Summer Days

Our semi-tropical Louisiana summer arrived while it was still spring in northern regions.  As usual, I was sick of summer before its first official day arrived.  I'm already fantasizing about crisp, fall weather.  There's nothing like fall days in the barn.

But for now we're on our summer heat survival schedule - up by 6:00 a.m., in the barn from 7:00 until 10:00 a.m.  When my head is where it should be, I pray and read the lectionary after coming in from the barn.  Then lunch (our big meal of the day) and a siesta.  The afternoon is spent in air-conditioning - doing housework, laundry, desk work, etc.  Back to the barn from 6:00 to 7:00 p.m.  Then a light supper followed by a desperate search for something to watch on TV.  I've started crocheting while I watch TV so it won't feel like a total waste of time.  But it's not easy because I have to crochet with Teche, the resident house cat, on my lap.

Our youngest daughter kick-started the summer by delivering twin baby boys.  Of course, we all knew that twins were on the way, but they weren't supposed to arrive until mid-July.  Operating on their own time table, they made their debut on June 13.  They are still in the hospital although they are healthy little tykes.  They will come home as soon as the feeding tubes can be discontinued. 

Arabella

Wallace

Life will change for the babies' 16 month old sister, Ellie Kay, who is used to being the one and only kid in her household.  But she's a happy little girl with a sweet disposition, so I'm sure she will adjust.  Our grandkids, Ellie's cousins, from Bossier City - 15 year old Wallace and 10 year old Arabella - just happened to be visiting when the twins were born.  They're looking forward to coming back when the twins are home from the hospital.   Arabella is especially looking forward to coming back since she hasn't seen the babies at all.  She wasn't allowed in the hospital since she's under 12 - an unhappy circumstance.  After all, she's a very grown-up 10 year old!  It's incredible to think that, in less than two years, we've gone from two grandchildren to five! 

The horses and I have joined Pat Parelli's Savvy Club online.  We're progressing through the levels of ground work.  Each horse has an online page with goals to be mastered.  When tasks are done, they are checked off on the horses' respective pages.  I'm enjoying it and I think the horses are, too.  It's good for them - having something to do besides eat.

I miss getting personal mail.  But you can't expect to get mail when you owe everybody in your correspondence world a letter or post card.  The days have been so busy, and I'm woefully behind.  I'll have to forsake my fountain pens and resort to the computer to catch up. 

I've managed to get some reading sandwiched in between everything else.  I read The Shoemaker's Wife by Adriana Trigiani.  This was my first experience with Ms. Trigiani, and I've added her to my list of favorite authors.  Her descriptive passages are pure poetry.  The Shoemaker's Wife evokes both tears and laughter.  She breathes life into her characters, and I hated to part with them when I finished the book.

The Soul of a Horse by Joe Camp, creator and director of the Benji movies, is an exceptionally good read.  Joe is a dog lover who didn't get involved with horses until he was 66 years old.  The book describes the experiences he and his wife had as new horse owners.  Mr. Camp refers to Monty Roberts throughout his book, so now I'm immersed in Monty's book, The Man Who Listens to Horses.  I have trouble putting it down.

I'll stop my ramble here since it's time to be off to the hospital to take a gander at the newest members of the family.  I hope to have some good twin photos for the next blog post.

A Gray Saturday

Jerry says it rained last night.  I slept through it and woke up to a gray, cloudy day.

I spent yesterday afternoon scrubbing the stovetop.  A sparkling clean stovetop is a wonderful thing.   The down side is that I'm reluctant to cook and mess it up.  But a clean stovetop does nothing to relieve hunger pains, so chicken is simmering in the red pot. 

The final dish will be chicken and dumplings - a new recipe I'm trying.  My grandmother's chicken and dumplings were wonderful.  I remember watching her roll out the dough to make strip dumplings in her cozy West Virginia kitchen.  I wish I had her recipe, but I don't.  The recipe I'm using calls for canned biscuits that are rolled thin and cut in strips.  I hope they will be at least almost as good as Mema's.  We'll see.

I have a new kitchen faucet, installed by my handy husband.  It's a beautiful thing, and I'm sort of glad the old one wore out - although the price tag on new faucets is staggering.  (It's been a while since we bought a kitchen faucet.)  The brushed stainless finish on the new faucet doesn't seem to show water spots.  And I was really pleased to find that I have much better control over the water flow than I did with the old faucet.

I just discovered the online magazine, The New Noblewoman at www.newnoblewoman.com.  The editor, Amanda Millay, offers lots of interesting articles that instruct and inspire on various subjects from how to get out of a car gracefully to how to brew the perfect cup of tea.  There's a recommended book section.  There are tips about beauty, fashion, and home decorating - all traditional and classic.  It's the Jane Austen lifestyle brought up to date.  I've frequented The Art of Manliness online magazine at www.artofmanliness.com  for quite a while and have often wished there was a female counterpart.  Thanks to Amanda Millay, there is!

My letter rack is full of letters and post cards that need to be answered, and a chilly gray day is the perfect time.  But right now I'm off to check on the chicken and try my hand at dumplings.

Errands in the Rain



La Madeleine's in the Rain

I like rainy days if the rain is misty and light and it's not too cold.  I especially like rain in Baton Rouge - or any city, for that matter.  Traffic lights and all the other lights that are common to a city are reflected in infinite ways.

My first stop was Team Honda to have the oil changed in my van.  I didn't arrive until 10:30 and expected to find the waiting room full - instead, I had it all to myself for most of my wait.  Maybe a rainy day is the perfect time to have your car serviced.  Just before I left, a young mother came in with a cute little toddler.  The mother and I chatted, and I told her that we will have new twin grandbabies in July.  She said that she is a twin, and her husband is a twin!  Needless to say, they wouldn't have been surprised if their little girl had been twins.   These days I see or hear about twins more often than usual - or so it seems.  I guess I just zero in on anything having to do with twins now that I know little twin rascals are headed our way.

I ate lunch at La Madeleine's - a Chicken Caesar Salad and a mini Lemon Tart.  I don't like eating alone in a restaurant.  I used to avoid it by getting my lunch at some fast food drive-thru and eating in the car.  But it's hard to do that and stay within my daily allotment of Weight Watcher's points.  I guess being twenty pounds lighter than I was is worth feeling lonely in a restaurant.  It wasn't too bad.  Watching rain drops roll down the window panes is mesmerizing.

All the experts - spouting endless statistics - say that our economy is sluggish, retail profits are down, and unemplyment is up.  It seems logical that this would mean an increase in the quality of customer service at retail establishments.  Not necessarily.  At Babies R Us there were zero cash registers in operation.  I had to wait while a manager got on the PA system and begged someone to please come and open a register.  When I was ready to check out at Walgreen's, the cashier near the front door told me her computer was down, and I would have to check out in the photo department or the pharmacy.  I went to the photo department and found it deserted, so I walked to the back of the store and paid in the pharmacy.

When I got out to my van, I realized that I didn't have my keys.  I checked my purse and all my pockets.  No, no keys.  I looked in the car, expecting to see them in the ignition.  No, not there either.  What in the world had I done with my keys?  I hurried back inside and retraced my steps.  Fortunately, my keys were on the pharmacy counter, right where I left them.

I stopped at the Addis post office on the way home and found my box full of good stuff - the local Riverside Reader that Jerry likes so much, letters from Singapore and Hawaii, and two post cards from Pennsylvania.  Good mail brightens any day!

Pens, Printers, and Postal Mail

It's a good mail day - a letter and two post cards from Downunder, a letter from England, and one from New Mexico.  I'm looking forward to answering them with my new Pilot Vanishing Point fountain pen - a Christmas gift from Jerry.

The Vanishing Point is a cool pen.  It has a retractable nib.  The nib is put into using position by clicking a spring-operated thingy.  Click again, and the nib disappears into the barrel - so there's no cap to screw on and off.  When the nib is inside the barrel, it is sealed so that the ink doesn't dry up and clog the nib.  It looks a little odd when you're writing with it because the clip is on the nib end where you hold the pen.  It's designed to be held with the clip between your thumb and forefinger.  I thought this might be awkward, but it's really comfortable.  As a bonus, it keeps me from twisting the pen around in my hand - something I'm prone to do.

I saw a neurologist last week and had nerve conduction studies done to try to find out why my right thumb shakes when it's bent, making it impossible for me to write with my right hand.  The good news is that I don't have Parkinson's or any progressive nerve disease.  The bad news is that I have an "essential tremor."  Essential tremors are often inherited, and I suspect that this is why my father's right hand was too shaky to write in his later years.  It's a task related tremor - the trembling only happens when the thumb is bent and poised to do something. Unfortunately, there's no surgery that will fix this kind of tremor.  The doctor said there are drugs that might "quieten it down," but I don't want to add to my collection of prescription drugs. 

I've decided the bad news is not so bad.  I've been writing with my left hand for five years.  I'll continue that practice and be grateful that my left hand doesn't have a tremor.  I'm also grateful that my right hand is useful for everything else besides writing - playing the piano and doing all the ordinary daily things.  And I'll remember to be grateful for all the modern technology that makes electronic note-taking so easy.

My Microsoft Publisher lessons on lynda.com are ongoing.  I took a break from these lessons in December and have had to do some of them over again to refresh my memory.  I was proud yesterday when I was able to design a business card all by myself - without refering to the tutorial.  But printing them out was an ordeal.  My printer tells me it's out of paper when it's not.  I don't know if it's lost its little mind or if it just lies.  Either way, it's a pain.  I think printers are the bane of modern technological life.  Of course, Jerry says my printer is about ten years old.  Is that possible?!  I guess it is, but I'll swear it seems like we just bought the thing!


Back in the Groove

Entrance to The Myrtles Plantation

I think I timed my knee surgery just right.  It's been a little more than two months since I came home from the hospital, and I'm back to doing most of my normal activities just at the arrival of my favorite season - glorious autumn! 

Last weekend Jerry and I took a day trip to St. Francisville, one of my favorite little towns.  We ate lunch on the screened porch of Magnolia Cafe.  We cruised around town, enjoying the fall decorations.  We rode out to the old ferry landing and got a glimpse of the new bridge over the Mississippi which makes it a short trip to New Roads on the west side of the river.



The Myrtles Plantation

We've been to St. Francisville several times, but had never toured The Myrtles Plantation, said to be "the most haunted house in America."  We looked around in the gift shop and bought our tickets for the 3:00 p.m. tour.  Since we had a few minutes to wait, we sat in the rocking chairs on the big back porch until time for our tour.  We didn't see any ghosts, but we did learn about all the tragedies that happened over the years at The Myrtles.  I can see why ghosts might find it an attractive place.  After standing up throughout the 30 minute tour, my right knee was reminding me that it's not quite well.  Even so, we had a pleasant outing.

A Backlog of Correspondence

My letter rack filled up while I was recovering from surgery, and I'm still trying to catch up.  I don't have time to write leisurely letters with my slow left hand, so I'm making use of the computer.  I can type so much faster than my left hand can write.  I've been exploring all the fonts that look like handwriting - and there are a bunch of them!  I like script fonts almost as much as I like fountain pens and ink.

Speaking of ink - I ordered a bottle of J. Herbin's "Orange Indien" ink, thinking it would be the perfect ink color for fall.  I filled my new TWSBI fine-nibbed fountain pen with this orangey color and tried it out on some scrap paper.  What a disappointment - it was entirely too pale!  After a few days of wondering what to do with a whole bottle of ink that's not to my liking, I decided to try it in a different pen.  I cleaned up my Cross Townsend, which has an oblique medium nib, and loaded it with Orange Indien.  What a difference!  This medium nib puts down more ink than a fine nib and gives lots of nice shading.  This is what makes a fountain pen hobby so interesting.  There are endless pen-ink-paper combinations that produce widely differing results. 

It's tea time so I'm off to put the kettle on.  A cup of Earl Grey with some toast and strawberry jam will hit the spot.  Wish you could join me!

The Secret Life of a Fountain Pen Aficionado - Conclusion

 As my mother's only child, I inherited several boxes filled with papers and objects relating to her literary interests.  After more than one diligent search, I have to report that her Esterbrook desk pen is not among these things.  In flights of fancy I imagine that it may have accompanied her to heaven.  I sincerely hope so.  I picture her, seated at a gilded desk, her health restored, putting pen and peacock blue ink to heavenly paper that neither feathers nor bleeds.

A year or two after my mother's death, I ran across an Esterbrook desk pen listed on E-Bay.  The description said, "needs to be reconditioned."  My husband, knowing my passion for fountain pens in general and Esterbrook desk pens in particular, ordered it for me.  It occupied a place in my mother's secretary desk for quite a while before I discovered where to send it for reconditioning.  It has now been returned to me in good working order.  I located a bottle of peacock blue ink among my mother's things, and of course that's what flows from my Esterbrook.

I must confess that there have been long periods of time when I haven't touched a fountain pen.  Then this obsession of mine, having been in a dormant state, whispers to me like some long lost lover.  I find myself searching in long forgotten storage places for every fountain pen I ever owned.  For weeks or months I revel in the life of a fountain pen aficionado.  Then my passion would be put to the test and finally squelched by my old nemesis - inferior paper.

In 2006 there was a revival of my fountain pen inclination that has remained constant thanks to the Fountain Pen Network, a community of forums dedicated to fountain pens, paper, and writing paraphernalia.  I had no idea there were so many fountain pen enthusiasts all over the world!  Through FPN I learned where to find quality paper that is reasonably priced and works with fountain pens - Clairfontaine Triomphe stationery, classic laid stationery by G. Lalo, Rhodia tablets, and Moleskine notebooks.  Gliding a fountain pen over any of these papers is pure joy!

This leads me to an obvious question.  If quality paper can be produced at a reasonable price, why are we plagued by inferior paper?  The answer came to me before I had finished typing the question - because we have been launched onto the swirling water of a fast-paced computerized world where - if pens are used at all - they are ball point pens and any old paper will do.

Like the rest of the world, I too have a love affair with the computer.  My husband is quick to remind me that he and our daughters had to pry my blue fingernails from our old typewriter and forcefully seat me in front of a computer.  I have finally adjusted to the computerized age.  However, that doesn't mean I've lost the ability to savor life in the alternate dimension of fountain pens where the tempo is slower, ink flows freely, and the quality of paper matters.

 

The Secret Life of a Fountain Pen Aficionado - Part Two

                                                        The pen of preference for me and my college friends was Sheaffer's inexpensive cartridge fountain pen.  This was a capped pen - not a desk pen - and it went everywhere with me.  Cartridge pens were a new innovation, popular for their convenience.  But note-taking students could go through a box of cartridges in a short period of time, and this could be a drain on the purse.

A fellow classmate introduced me to the practice of refilling cartridges with a needle and syringe.  A fairly inexpensive bottle of Sheaffer ink would refill countless cartridges.  After four or five refills, a cartridge had to be discarded because the opening that fit on the pen nib would become enlarged which could mean a leaky pen.  Even so, this method stretched our cartridge allowance.  Of course, we could have alleviated our ink budget problems considerably by using cheap ball point pens.  But, as fountain pen devotees, we couldn't bring ourselves do descend to the level of an uninspired ball point.

Lots of things have improved over the years, but it seems to me that the quality of common, everyday paper declined during the 1950s and 60s.  No longer could you use your fountain pen on a lot of dime store tablets without having the ink feather or bleed.  "Feathering" is when the ink travels to places it shouldn't go, producing a broad, blurry line instead of a fine, distinct one.  "Bleeding" is when the ink goes through to the other side of the paper.

Due to this decline in the quality of ordinary paper, fountain pen lovers had to choose to either retire their fountain pens or go to specialty shops to buy better, more expensive paper.  Those who could afford it, sprung for the expensive paper for letters of importance; but they still had to resort to the common ball point for such mundane tasks as making out the grocery list. 

to be continued . . .

The Secret Life of a Fountain Pen Aficionado - Part One

Few of my friends and acquaintances know about my penchant for fountain pens.  I don't bore them with the knowledge since most people today have no interest in fountain pens.  Young people don't know what they are.  But my memories of fountain pens go way back.

According to the dictionary, "a man of letters" is one who is devoted to literary  activities.  By this definition, my mother was definitely "a woman of letters."  She was an avid reader and always preferred big, thick novels about families and old houses.  She had a beautiful handwriting and was a gifted writer.  She kept a journal all of her life until a stroke took away her ability to write.  She persisted for a while after the stroke, but eventually stopped.  Her last poignant journal entry is an unrecognizable scrawl that trails off in mid-sentence, never to be resumed.  My mother died eleven years ago, and I still can't look at that last journal entry without weeping.

When I was a child, my parents' gift to most high school graduates who sent them an announcement was an Esterbrook desk fountain pen exactly like the one Mama used.  I was usually with her when she made her annual trip to the office supply in downtown Panama City, Florida, to purchase these gifts.  The pen base was formed in a rounded shape.  It was heavy and shiny black.  The pen was black except for the end opposite the writing nib.  This end was tapered to a point and made of clear plastic.  It looked like crystal, or so I thought at the time.

An Esterbrook desk pen symbolized adulthood to me.  I understood perfectly that children did not use fountain pens.  My mother firmly believed that one person should not use another person's fountain pen.  She thought that in time, a fountain pen adjusts itself to the angle at which the writer holds it.  A different writer, holding the pen at a different angle, might spoil the pen for its owner.  Mama thought it was bad manners to ask to borrow someone's fountain pen.

Mama's desk pen always held Sheaffer's "Peacock Blue" ink.  It was her trademark.  It's a turquoise blue, or maybe "aqua" describes it better.  It may have reminded Mama of the gorgeous aqua color of the Gulf of Mexico - an appropriate ink color for the many letters dispatched from Panama City to relatives in the mountains of West Virginia.

By the time I was a teenager, the annual pilgrimages to the office supply had stopped.  I didn't think much about it at the time.  Like most teenagers, my attention was focused on my own affairs, and I had ceased to accompany my mother on her errands.  I have learned since that Esterbrook stopped making fountain pens sometime during the 1950s.  And that, of course, explains why I did not receive an Esterbrook desk pen when I graduated from high school in 1964.

to be continued . . .



English Campaign Desk with Improvements

It's always fun to make a good thing better.  That's what we've done with the English campaign desk that I reviewed in an earlier post.  Jerry installed the eye screws and chain, shown in the photo at left, with a little bit of help from me.  It was his idea to use jewelry chain with a clasp on each end so the chain can be easily removed if there's ever a reason to do so.  The chain keeps the stationery holder section of the box upright so that it doesn't flop down and spill all your stationery.  When the stationery holder section is closed the chain drops into the little compartment as shown in the photo below.

I also added some green blotter paper to the sloped writing section.  I attached it with removeable double-faced tape. The blotter paper protects the wood and makes a slightly padded writing surface. 

In the photo below you'll notice that I've placed a blue coaster under the hinged clasp to keep it from marring the surface of whatever table or desk the campaign desk is sitting on when I'm writing.  This blue coaster was all I could find around the house to serve this purpose, but I'm on the lookout for something that will look better with the green blotter.

I've already written quite a few letters and post cards on this campaign desk.  Thank goodness I'm actually using it.  I don't need any more what-nots!

English Campaign Desk

English Campaign Desk - Photo #1

This nifty little writing box arrived in the mail yesterday.   I told you I was having a good mail week!  I ordered this online from Acorn, a website that sells a variety of gift items.  I also get the Acorn mail order catalog which is almost as much fun to peruse as J. Peterman's catalog. 

This box is listed as an English Campaign Desk.  Prior to the 20th century this kind of thing was a common item used by military men and explorers.  They moved around a lot and needed a compact box that was useful for storage as well as writing.

This is not a lap desk.  It's designed to be used on a table.  Photo #1 shows the front of the box in closed position.  In this position, the deminsions are 10.5 inches by 8.75 inches by 3 inches.

Photo #2 (scroll down) shows the writing surface open. This sloped surface is 10.5 inches wide and 8.75 inches from top to bottom.  If you like to write on full 8.5 inch by 11 inch paper, this might be a bit small.  Since most of my handwriting is done on half-sheet sized stationery, notecards, and post cards, it suits my purposes.

Before I got this dandy little box I had not had any experience writing on a slope.  I'm happy to say the slope solves a problem for me.  I wear trifocals, and the slope puts the paper in just the right position for viewing through the bottom lens of my glasses.  When I write on a flat surface, I find myself alternating between the bottom and middle lenses of my glasses and not having my writing in perfect focus either way.  But this, of course, is my personal problem. 

Photo #2

Photo #3 shows the little "file" section open.  You can store stationery here, but there are some things to consider.  If the stationery is too big and sticks out of the file slots, it will be damaged when the box is closed.  If post cards are dropped down in these slots, you can't get hold of them to get them out.  I'm going to solve this problem by custom making a mini file folder for each slot.  These folders will stick out just enough for me to get hold of them.  I can keep post cards and small notecards in these folders and be able to reach them by lifting the folders out.

My only criticism of this box is that the file folder section does not stand up on its own.  It appears to stand up in this photo because its leaning on the side panel of the piece of furniture that its on.  My handy husband says this can be fixed with two little eyelet screws and a little bit of chain.  He's gathering the supplies to make this modification.  When it's done I'll make another post with a photo and a report on how it works.

Photo #3

Photo #4 is a close-up of the middle section, showing all the neat little compartments.  Underneath the compartment at the bottom of the photo is a little drawer.  You'll want to keep things you don't get to often in here because whatever is in the center section has to be taken out to get to the drawer.  It's a little unhandy, but the drawer is a way to make use of space that would be wasted otherwise.

Photo #4

Let me add that this writing box has a slight odor about it, although I don't find it to be unpleasant.  Is this a funiture oil that was applied to the box or is this the natural smell of teakwood?  I don't know. 

Although this is a new item, it is made in the distressed fashion so that it will look like an antique - and it does.  I think "English campaign desk" is a mouthful so I'm calling this my safari desk.  I can picture Stanley in his tent - sitting at his safari desk - penning a note to Livingston.  No, wait - he couldn't pen a note to Livingston.  He was trying to find Livingston.  Oh well, you get the idea. 
 

A Good Mail Week!

I'm one of those people who measure a good week by what they find in their mailbox.  And this week has been a postal bonanza! 

I've received letters from California, Texas, and New Jersey; post cards from Arkansas, Pennsylvania, and Peru, and a birthday card from north Louisiana. 

Of course, I did my part to brighten other people's mail boxes by sending letters to California and Hawaii; post cards to Rhode Island, Pennsylvania, and Australia. 

I've had even more than post cards and letters in my mailbox.  My Noodler's flex fountain pen arrived yesterday!  It lives up to all the good reviews.  It produces quite a range of line width and is a nice looking pen, too.  Since it's a piston filler, it holds a lot of ink.  All this goodness for $14.00!  Unbelievable!  I've loaded it with Noodler's Iraqi Indigo ink and plan to put it to work writing a letter before the day is out.

My membership packet from the Letter Writers Alliance arrived, too.  It included a membership card, a cool pin with the LWA logo, and LWA stationery.  Membership in LWA also allows you to download nifty notecards, stationery, etc., from the website and print them on your own paper.

I'm off now to write a letter to the 2011 Letter Project - with my new Noodler's pen, of course.