Saturday afternoon I had that sinking feeling you get when you realise you've lost something. I turned the house and workshop upside down looking for my sketch book, after going to jot down an idea and not being able to find it. I'd thought it was with my library books, having taken it to the library to photocopy a sketch for my itern to practice saw piercing with. I thought perhaps the kids had moved it, as they love to play with and move everything in my workshop. But I couldn't find it. I felt a bit panicky. My sketchbook is full of ideas, notes, measurements, and sketches of upcoming collections. It's meaningful for practical and sentimental reasons, as it contains sketches of completed pieces, custom work and ideas for new pieces. I hadn't realised how much that sketch book meant to me of course, until I couldn't find it. I felt like having a bit of a cry and I must admit I wasn't great company Saturday evening.
Eventually I realised that I hadn't seen my sketch book since that trip to the library, which was two weeks ago. Oh, pregnancy brain. It was too late Saturday to be able to do anything about it and the library was closed on Sunday. I bided my time until Monday morning and held on to the slim hope that someone had found my sketch book and it was waiting for me in lost and found at the library.
As you can imagine, it was a very good start to the week when the librarian I'd told me tale to rounded the corner holding my sketch book.
I shall now be writing my name and number inside the front cover, just in case...
