Did I, perhaps, tell you about the swag I raked in on the last day of school before the Christmas holidays? If not, I must be addled about what I post here, and what I post on my supersecret blog. So let me just set the scene by explaining that a student gave me a little notepad with a cardboard cover, and a fold-up pen that clips onto the side. She no doubt thought I was overdoing it when I thanked her profusely. But seriously. That was the perfect gift for Mrs. Val Thevictorian.
I love all things paper and pen. They're so cute. And so practical. I used to go overboard buying school supplies for my stepsons. Hick, careful of his wording lest I take offense and leave the job to him in future Augusts, said tactfully, "This is all very nice. But I think a few notebooks and pencils would have been enough." Au contraire. Even middle-school-age boys need some accoutrements. The boys sure didn't complain. Who wouldn't want a car-shaped pencil sharpener or a watermelon-smelling eraser or a mini-stapler?
And such karma has come full circle. Now I have this sweet, blue-and-green-striped notepad in which to jot my rapid-fire thoughts. Everybody gets those instantaneous, scathingly brilliant ideas for writing, don't they? It's not just me? Because they generally occur within the hour or two after I take my thyroid meds. I'm sure that's just a happy coincidence. That I start firing on all cylinders when all my cylinders start firing.
The problem is that my brilliance fades away. much like vivid dreams vaporize by midday. Sometimes, if I'm driving, I tell The Pony, "Remember this for when we get home. I'm going to ask you what idea I had, and you repeat it to me." He's a very astute personal assistant. With a steel-trap mind. If it was the early '90s, he could be my living, breathing, Deluxe Talk Boy. As seen in Home Alone 2: Lost in New York. With my new notepad, I can ask him when I drop him off at his building, and make a note. That frees up The Pony's brain for educational purposes.
Now, instead of just having the title or main idea, I also have the various riffs that shoot off from the basic subject. I don't have to reinvent the wheel, but merely spiff it up with a raggedy old t-shirt and some Armor All. No high-tech electronic gewgaws for me. No fumbling to figure out how my phone can save my voice. No spy gadget that will record sound at the push of a button. Or less. A little note pad with attached pen is all I need.
Funny how you never think to buy something like that for yourself.