A Pen Fit for a Writer

When we were in Boston Sunday (soaking up all the rich history concerning Colonial Boston and its huge role in the American Revolution), my wonderful sister-in-law bought me a little gift at one of the souvenir shops, a gift that I just love: an old-fashioned looking feather pen.

I already have an antique ink well, courtesy of my mother.  Now I have a quill pen to dip into it.  Well, I can pretend to anyway...and now my little writing desk really does look quite Jane Austen-esque, doesn't it?

It's a pretty cool-looking pen, but the best thing about it is that it really works...without the ink well.  So I may not use my laptop computer anymore.  Instead of blogging, I may just begin keeping a journal--old school-style.

Yeah...that's not going to happen.

As much as I complain about my trials and tribulations in Cyberville (the way-less-fun cousin of Margaritaville), I can't imagine scratching out my thoughts laboriously, in my messy cursive...having to break out the old White-Out bottle instead of merely backspacing to delete errors...mailing out hand-written copies of my musings to my usual list of followers...

I think I'll just keep on blogging.  But don't you just love my new pen?