I love my bureau. I bought it with money my Nana left when she died and 'Nana's bureau' is without a doubt the most fantastic bit of furniture I will ever own. Not least because of it's amazing capacity for my stationery hoard.
Yes all these fit in here - and lots and lots of pens, pencils, writing paper, postcards, birthday cards, heck you get the gist.
The other thing that I adore is that it is a bit of an alter to happy.
This Jamaica Inn jug was Nana's (bought on her honeymoon) and held gold top milk on the table for her famous Nana teas.
The jar of shells were collected on smudge's first trip to the beach. It was freezing cold, bowing a gale but I was insistent that we must have shells to remember.
And the phone was found in a junk shop for £2 on a day trip with g about ten years ago. Yes it works, brilliantly. We just don't plug it in because the below lump of idiocy howls like an eejit when it rings, then the manic shaking starts. We have explained that the phone ringing is unlikely to herald the coming of the apocalypse but she remains unconvinced.
So sitting here scribbling always makes me feel good. I'm surrounded by happy times and now I've tidied and can get to my pen and notebook I'm feeling just a little bit grateful to Jocelyn
Oh and the journal was of course exactly where I knew it would be. From 1985.
My handwriting has got better in the intervening 30 years, it's a shame that my artistic skills plateaued at Primary 1.