As you all know from my blog post last week it was Mark and I’s first wedding anniversary on Saturday. We had the most perfect day, mimosa’s for breakfast with croissants and Nutella (obviously), we went to the zoo, for dinner, drank mojitos, had a pint in the Scottish pub in Lyon whilst watching some athletics (Usain Bolt 200m final) on tv, then came home and watched a movie, like I said, the most perfect day, I could not have asked for anything more, though there was…and NO, I’m not talking about what came after the movie! For my first wedding anniversary gift (you know it’s paper, right?) he bought me the most perfect gift, a red leather notebook from Smythson of Bond St, a very expensive store in London, inscribed with the phrase “Live Love Laugh” on the front, he even had a little heart shape stamped on it to personalize it a little more for me. I love it.
I love it so much that I’m afraid to write in it! Is that ridiculous? I feel like it’s such a thoughtful gift that I want to “keep for good”, that nothing I put down will be good enough for the gilt-edged feather weight leaves inside. I’m not the most confident writer, in fact, I’ve written before about the fact that I don’t even really see myself as a writer. I just like to write. So, I’m not surprised that I feel inferior, that nothing I write could possibly be good enough to don the pages of this luxurious little lambskin notebook.
I should just bite the bullet, shouldn’t I? Write something, anything…but what should I write?
There we go again…….
Oh and for those of you wondering, I got him shorts and superman boxers. (yeah, I’m NOT good at gifts at all!)