Sometimes I have an idea in mind of what the blog will be about. Usually, actually. But then it may veer off in some unforseen direction. I took pictures of some of my bookmarks last night, intending this blog to be about the pleasure of bookmarks...what? You're asleep already? But as I was pondering about that, I realised there was something else that I wanted to share as well. To do with books. So it's semi-related.
Do you have many bookmarks? I wonder if they wait like flowers in a vase waiting to be chosen for a specific book. Do you dog ear pages? Use old receipts or scraps of paper? A friend once cautioned about about not buying her any more bookmarks. She stated that she only needed two. I have a thing for bookmarks. I love them. I have lots yet often can't find them as they tend to live in my special books. In an earlier blog, you may have noticed my metal 'serenity' bookmark which lives in 'My Prosperous Heart'. I don't designate a bookmark to a particular book, it often just happens, as if the book itself claims it.
Except one of my absolute favourite bookmarks which Maggie (aka Souley--a dear friend from childhood) sent me a couple of years ago. That one lives in my present gratitude journal (also an earlier blog about those) and moves to each new gratitude journal. It's the bookmark you can see below.
What does any of this have to do with the blog title? Nothing.
Recently, I borrowed a book from Dad: 'Little Ship of Fools' by Charles Wilkins. I have lots of Charlie's books, many autographed by him but my dad was shopping at Chapters one day and this book appealed to him so he bought it. He thoroughly enjoyed it and I hadn't read this particular one. I can't put it down. The story is interesting. But the book itself smells. I keep picking it up to smell it.
I adore the smell of new, freshly minted books and often bury my nose, very literally, in them but this particular book has a very different scent. It smells of mint imperials. You know those hard white Scotch mints? Dad keeps them on his bedside table. Has done for years. Mam used to keep them loose in her purse. Growing up, her handbags always smelled of mint imperials.
At a time when Dad's own life is rapidly changing in very good ways, I cling, just a little bit more than usual, to the lingering, calming and pleasant scent from a borrowed book and a time long ago.
Welcome! I'm Sue Blott: a writer of all things, a poet at heart, mom, wife, daughter, step-mom, grandma, tea drinker, tai chi-er, mystic, artist, dreamer...and now a blogger! This is my world.