On the power of light green
I like light green. It's the colour of all things fresh and new and growing. I went out of my way (literally: I drove 45min to the Coburg warehouse and its wider range of upholstery swatches) to have light spring green couches made, and defaulted to light green for my laundry basket, Tupperware and diaries (one personal, one business). The diaries aren't spring green, but mint, a colour less botanical, but more cool and clear. My paper personal diary was almost abandoned during the heyday of LJ, but I'm slowly easing back to having something in paper that can be dug out at will. This one is overlaid with a pattern of blue and white flowers on branches, and was purchased from the very lovely Jodini (what I call her, not her actual name), who is the one person I definitely intend to stay in touch with from the second mothers' group. Then there's the business diary, on which I want to muse here.
I discovered the perfect business diary brand about ten years ago. It was durable, made of soft genuine leather that survived my brutal treatment, came in a different cheery colour each year, had perforated tear-off corners for each day as a way of tracking where you were in the year (great idea, that), and a treasure trove of the sort of maps, measurements and random information you get in expensive business diaries. I bought one three years running and I was PLEASED. Then, of course, they discontinued it.
GAAAAH.
These days, I've taken to buying my business diaries from Kikki K (http://www.kikki-k.com/diaries-calendars ... still can't remember how to do a hot link). They don't have nearly as much in the way of useful information and features, but they're chic, durable and colourful. I bought this year's mint version (the pink was pretty but a tad lacking in serious business cachet) a month or two ago. Like many such diaries, it had a strip of glossy paper looped around the front cover. I slipped this off and was about to toss it in the recycling when I noticed something that stopped me. On the strip, in mint capitals on white, was a phrase.
I don't know that the manufacturers who elected to print this slogan on the strip intended it to be heartening, but I found it so. It felt like a good omen, a talisman of hope that I wanted to keep. So I picked up the circlet of paper and slipped it back on the cover, where it still was today when I started to write in it for the first time. I won't be able to leave it on there indefinitely - when the diary hits the rough-and-tumble of my handbag it'll get torn and dirty within hours - but I think I will for now. At least until tomorrow.
I discovered the perfect business diary brand about ten years ago. It was durable, made of soft genuine leather that survived my brutal treatment, came in a different cheery colour each year, had perforated tear-off corners for each day as a way of tracking where you were in the year (great idea, that), and a treasure trove of the sort of maps, measurements and random information you get in expensive business diaries. I bought one three years running and I was PLEASED. Then, of course, they discontinued it.
GAAAAH.
These days, I've taken to buying my business diaries from Kikki K (http://www.kikki-k.com/diaries-calendars ... still can't remember how to do a hot link). They don't have nearly as much in the way of useful information and features, but they're chic, durable and colourful. I bought this year's mint version (the pink was pretty but a tad lacking in serious business cachet) a month or two ago. Like many such diaries, it had a strip of glossy paper looped around the front cover. I slipped this off and was about to toss it in the recycling when I noticed something that stopped me. On the strip, in mint capitals on white, was a phrase.
I don't know that the manufacturers who elected to print this slogan on the strip intended it to be heartening, but I found it so. It felt like a good omen, a talisman of hope that I wanted to keep. So I picked up the circlet of paper and slipped it back on the cover, where it still was today when I started to write in it for the first time. I won't be able to leave it on there indefinitely - when the diary hits the rough-and-tumble of my handbag it'll get torn and dirty within hours - but I think I will for now. At least until tomorrow.