Writing at my new (old) desk

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My sweetheart and I spent most of the weekend helping clear my grandfather’s house of furniture, books, dishes–all the things that living people seem to collect and love. In some ways, it was completely freeing to be able to throw away forgotten trinkets that no one wanted. In other ways, it was hard to see so many memory-laden pieces go.

We came home with a truckload of treasures that no one else wanted. Among them was an old wooden desk, rickety by any standard but still completely lovable.

This desk was old long before my elementary school years. In those days, it sat in the corner of my grandparent’s family room, supervised by a single lamp that illuminated my colored-pencil sketches.

It was there that I designed new wardrobes-generally in purple and green-for the Scooby Doo gang. (Did it ever bother anyone else that they never changed clothes?)

It was there that I first designed a logo, meant to represent my future fame and fortune, although I don’t remember what kind of business I planned to own.

I wrote there, too, on long summer days when I was tired of watching cartoons or playing out in the garden.

I write here now.

We moved the desk into my office oh-so-carefully Saturday night. Today, after a jumble of non-writing activity and a Flylady reboot, I’m back to work at my new (old) desk.

It feels good.

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2 Comments to “Writing at my new (old) desk”

  1. Looks like you made yourself a nice writing nook.

    Like

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