simple gifts

I'm not great at keeping a diary. Never have been. I write infrequently, hazily, and hastily, and I can sometimes go weeks, even months, having completely forgotten that I have a diary at all. Its tightly bound pages, smudged with ink and pencil, sullied by the greasy evidents of late night snacking, is assigned to a hiding spot, and then consigned to oblivion.

There it stays, hidden from me completely, until I uncover it in a dressing frenzy or a hunt for loose change. Not at all unlike this blog.

When I'm keeping up, I'm way up. But when things get busy, nights get shorter, or longer, or I'm simply too exhausted by my day to even dream of revisiting it again at lamplight, the diary goes down. Down, down, down. Way down to the bottom of that list of things to do, that somehow just keeps getting longer.

That's why Keel's Simple Diary is an ideal gift for the laggard daily logger. Not at all unlike myself. And now I've got one. Gifted from a friend who is simply spectacular. And, although I may not always tell her, it's written in my diary. I swear.