Hmm. From the small flurry of concerned e-mails that landed in my in-box this morning, I appear to have mis-communicated my feelings in my entry on stress yesterday.

No, I’m not currently stressed (well, except about the bath thing no longer being relaxing); I’m just sympathising with Kate about her general stressed-ness, because I’ve been there, and been there often. Although I’ve had a nasty sinus headache for three days now, which I am dealing with by taking Excedrin Extra-Strength and using lavender oil; thank you for asking.

Work proceeds apace on the Hallowe’en costume. I dug out the pattern again to create a second layer, kit-bashed a bit more, and came up with an ingenious way to attach it to the first layer. I’m a better sewing engineer than I thought! We took pictures of the costume last night so that I will have a record of how good it looked before I sink my nice shiny shears into it. You know, in case my idea doesn’t work. It will, of course. I’m just covering all my bases.

However, I’m on the verge of running out of thread, which amazes me since I bought two spools at the outset to be extra-sure I’d have enough. This makes me wonder how long I’ve actually spent on the outfit so far, and after calculation I’ve come up with the following:

Eep! And I still have a few to go, including embroidery and those two slashes. I didn’t factor in shopping time (of which Ceri and I invested a few hours) or the anticipated time to be spent tracking down the right colour of hose, embroidery thread, and other little finishing touches. (I can always dye them – hmm.)

Hallowe’en party/due date for costume: 24 days, and counting. Go me!

Joy, joy, joy!

I’ve been increasingly frustrated with my mouse lately – it catches, horizontal movement is jerky, vertical motion is sketchy at best, and so forth. I’ve taken it apart, I’ve cleaned it, I’ve tried different rolling surfaces… nothing works. It’s also very flat, which causes me to hold my wrist is a rather “broken” fashion.

Today, while surfing, I nearly smashed the ruddy thing – is it too much to ask that a mouse, I don’t know, mouse correctly?

Then I remembered that in my laptop case o’goodies that MLG gave me a few months ago, there was a mouse. A useful addition when you get fed up with the little button that the laptop has for mouse movement, or if your hands are the size of my husband’s, for example, as opposed to my own tiny fingers. I tend to use keyboard commands while working with the laptop, so the little button isn’t a problem.

I dug it out. I plugged it in.

Glory! Will you look at that! Smooth pointer movement; a nice arch to the hand-rest; and a gentle click (so quiet, in fact, that I can barely tell I’ve selected something). No more mouse-abuse on my desk!

Marc, I so owe you. Are you keeping track?

While my husband and I were out and about on Sunday, we stopped in at a Renaud Bray bookshop, where I should never, never go because among other cool stock they sell many blank books and pens and inks.

I browsed through the bottles of ink and debated buying a jar of copper-coloured ink and a jar of chestnut ink, which, I reasoned, was a different shade of brown than I had at home already so I might be able to justify buying it. And then, I looked down at the dip pens.

I have dip pens. My mother-in-law bought me a lovely dip pen ensemble of nibs and a wooden nib holder a Christmas or two ago, and on top of that I have older nib holders and nibs that my father passed along to me.

These, however, were works of art. Stained wooden nib holders turned on a lathe and shaped with knobs and ripples. Metal nib holders of brushed steel. Painted wooden holders with metal ends.

I was deciding between the brushed metal and the knobbly wood when my eyes dropped even lower to the kits on the bottom shelf. And there, in a kit with three nibs and a bottle of ink, was the most Victorian nib holder I�ve ever seen. Long, narrow, with scrolls of flowers and vines inset into the middle. It�s exactly the style I�d always envisioned using. I�ve wanted a metal pen for ages � something about the weight, I think. They�re narrower than the wood holders, too.

I bought it.

I love it.

It�s the best-weighted pen I�ve ever used. And the nibs are dreamy and smooth, unlike all my others which are scratchy. I wish it had come with black ink, but I�ll use the blue. (I already have a bottle of black and a bottle of blue� I prefer black, that�s all, and I�d have used it up sooner.)

Someday, I�ll use my lovely swirled glass inkwell for ink instead of storing my extra nibs, too, but then I�ll have to find another place to store my nibs. Maybe I�ll look in flea markets and antique fairs and start collecting inkwells. That would be nice and eccentric.

So I have lovely new pen, and wonderful nibs, and a little stack of blank books� and nothing to put in them. I feel awkward about blank books; I don�t want to ruin them. If I were composing the Great Canadian Novel longhand, I�d use one, but it�s directly to the laptop. Perhaps I�ll begin by copying my favourite poetry or something, although copying bores me after the novelty of spacing things out and making my handwriting as attractive as possible wears off, and the goal becomes getting it done instead. Mistakes creep in; I get frustrated; the project gets put on hold or abandoned.

In the meantime, I have scrap paper, and I�m writing out the alphabet in as many different scripts as I can remember, in different colours. I�m making my �to-do� lists in lovely coloured ink and flowing cursive. Looks like I�ll have to go back for those copper and chestnut-coloured inks� I enjoy the consistency of these Aladine inks much more than the two Windsor & Newton inks that I have already. And I need a green, to balance out all the black and blue that I have.

If you�re as in love with dip pens as I am, you have to check this site out. Swoon!