06/06/2022

Eat Like an Emerick🍲

Spend a little time in the kitchen and around the house with us in May.

A Good Journal is Hard to Come By

I have this gorgeous leather journal that I’ve been scribbling away in for over a year.

It felt like a luxury when I snagged it at Books-A-Million on an impulse. In the dishevelled display of notebooks decorated with inspirational quote covers someone had wedged this simple A4 journal at the back of the shelf. Its plain design caught my eye, surrounded by the overwhelming and vibrant variations of “boss babe” notebooks it looked brooding and mysterious. There was no company listed on it anywhere, just a barcode with BAM’s bog-standard details.

I remember taking a lap of the shop, clutching it as I pretended to be interested in the latest issue of Southern Living. I rationalised I’d skimp on groceries that week in exchange for its neatly stitched cover and soft bind. The embossed “Handmade in Italy” pressed into the back and cream pages filled me with such delight that frankly, I would have lived on beans for a month to justify it if necessary.

Every day that I have written in this journal has been a joy. No matter how miserable, panicked or lost I have found myself whilst filling its pages, I have always found great comfort in its sturdy craftsmanship and slowly creasing spine. Its large pages allow me to flourish, scrawl and leave myself illegible notes for future reading.

Something that excites me about a new journal is the prospect of the person I’ll be once I’ve filled it. What will I have learned? Where will I have taken it? This particular journal sat tucked away in my backpack, protecting my laptop from a nightmare water bottle leak on an overnight flight to the UK. It accompanied me as I explored London for the first time, reassuring me in moments of discomfort. The journal prior thoroughly documented a chaotic cross-country road trip to Colorado and an impromptu weekend in Las Vegas. My journals have an affinity for adventure.

I have listened to favourite albums as I have filled its pages, today's choice being Boxer by The National. I have mourned loved ones and celebrated milestones. This journal has endured harsh beach days, spilt mugs of tea, ink leaks and the odd attempt at manifestation (of which I remain unconvinced). It has held my deepest fears, it has confirmed my favourite type of pen.

I have captured my life in such great detail that the remaining blank pages are now dwindling.

So naturally, I ventured back to Books-A-Million in a last-minute attempt to find one similar. I was greeted by more brightly coloured notebooks decorated in watercolour washes and biblical slogans. Not quite what I had miraculously stumbled across eighteen months ago. To my dismay, the employees at BAM had neatly stacked all the journals and even categorized them. The chaos that brought me my dream journal had disappeared.

I am sad to have just about filled it but part of me secretly enjoys the sadness a little bit. It means it was a good journal, it served its purpose beautifully. I could scrounge the internet to find other versions of it, but there’s a part of me deep down that is excited by its impermanence. Just like how my favourite pen will inevitably run out and I will have to refill it, soon I will reach the final page of this fine journal and I will seek out a replacement to hold my thoughts.

I have happily accepted that I may never find another one like it, but I am excited to try. Somehow, I will dare to love another journal again.

I don’t consider myself a materialistic person, but I do hold sentimental value in good-quality stationery items. When made well, they are the most powerful tools.

This particular journal captured a year of important growth for me. I read its first page and I feel the anguish my twenty-six-year-old self carried as she scratched into it with a dull ballpoint pen. In some ways, this journal can transport me back to every feeling that I’ve documented in the last year. I like to consider my journals tiny time machines, it’s a romantic notion, isn’t it?

This month, I urge you to seek pleasure and comfort in an item that holds deep sentimental value to you. It could be a mug, toilet brush, or even something fleeting like a teabag. Bonus points if you email me with your answer. Dare to be a little romantic about a possession this month.

Food For Thought

"There is no bad, there is no good. I drank every sky that I could."
— Florence Welch (from the song Daffodil)

"To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance."
— Oscar Wilde

"The right one does not stand in your way; they make space for you to step forward."
— Rupi Kaur