Well, here we are, home from the pen show in the Big City to the North. Let us examine the human female’s final haul.
She ended up buying a vintage pen after all. I approve of the color.
She says it is a “Sheaffer Junior 275 from the 1930s, with a celluloid body, a restored ink sac, and a 14 k gold flex nib.” I’m not sure what any of that means. I just repeat what I hear. Basically, I think she bought a fancy old pen. But since she’s trying to find a nice gray–green to fill it with, I suppose I can be mildly enthusiastic. Yay. Go, you.
There are almost too many inks to choose from. The human male has lost count of the number he has. Each has a little sample card. The female is trying to find the perfect cobalt blue. It should leap off the page, without being gaudy.
Sigyn has been trying to help her choose and has gotten herself all worked up over it. Don’t fret, my love. There is literally NOTHING less important than what ink goes in the human female’s stupid pen.
Come now, take a step back and look at things with fresh eyes.
The human female also looking for a good purple to put into one of the cheap silver-and-gold colored pens they found on the way out of the show. They were 3 for $10, so the humans bought a handful, so as to be able to fill some with unusual colors or to give some away to curious friends.
The human female bought one other pen. It was very inexpensive and has a pretty bluey-silvery barrel. Now she’s trying to find a “fun” ink to put in it.
She thinks this De Atramentis Columbia Blue Silver might do. It’s medium blue, but when you tilt the page, you can see that the ink is full of shimmery silver sparkles. That is MUCH too-fru-fru and color-coordinating for me. I think—yes, I do believe I shall— cast a little spell so that that ink will not work with that pen. She should thank me for keeping her from being too twinkie.
And then one of the will skip and another will balk and then one will get ink on her hands…
I am enjoying this new hobby immensely.