this summer my mom and dad came for a visit. in amongst all the usual preparations–clean the house, bathe the children, make a list for Target because it’s right by their hotel!–i started looking for a new bag. something that wasn’t a backpack or a diaper bag. something with some structure. maybe even a bit of style. something that a 40 year old woman could take to church.
we met my parents at their hotel when they arrived. we got there first and waited in the lobby. as soon as i saw my mom’s bag, i loved it. i wanted to tell her to keep an eye out at garage sales for another bag like it for me. but when i told her i liked it, she gave it to me. the only thing was she needed a bag to carry on the plane with her for her book and yarn. i ended up finding yet another bag that had belonged to her that i had absconded with years before.
i’ve used the bag all summer for trips to the cafe to write. the little computer fits in the pocket like they were made for each other. i also keep it stocked with a few pens, my journal, washi tape, a book. the thing is spacious. it’s fast becoming my portable, inspiring workspace.