While at Border's the other night, I gazed longingly at their collection of Moleskine notebooks. I told my sister that I feel an almost physical need to buy them. I restrained myself as I have an unused one at home. Let me explain. I love journals. This was the subject of my very first blog post. I collect them, but find them very hard to use. It's as if I don't have anything important enough to say to deface the first page. One day the Washington Post ran a story on the reemergence of Moleskine notebooks. They have been used for the past two centuries by everyone from Van Gogh to Picasso to the most international avant-garde. In 1986 the manufacturer closed it's shutters forever, but the business was bought by a Milanese publisher in 1998, who brought the books back. (I'm paraphrasing from the literature that came with the book.) This story delighted me, and when I found these notebooks in my bookstore last year I was hooked. I bought two for my friend Kit, who used them right away, and one for myself. It has been in my night table, untouched, for almost a year. Is there a reason for this story? (besides not wanting to talk about my basement?) Yes. I took out the Moleskine today. I wrote on the first page. I stuck Avery write on tabs on the pages with the different rooms in my house written on them. I'm writing down everything that I need to do to each room to get it in shape in case I sell my house. Then, I told Emily about the plans for the notebook. I told her it was her notebook too. This got her very excited. I told her she can write whatever she wants in it. It would be ours. Her first entry? 'Take It or Trash It'. Mine? 'This, but Mostly That'. The mother/daughter journal has begun. So, La de da.

I spent the day in the basement. It was not a pretty sight. Emily spent the day photographing many of the things we'd like to sell and then posting them on Craigslist. She got feedback right away on a few things and two people came to the house and bought an ice tea maker and an under-the-cabinet light. She is so happy. We could make a fortune selling all the stuff we have! If only...