Smitten: the Estate Sale Score.

How a writing desk at an estate sale convinced me to slow down.

Smitten. That’s how I felt when I first saw this little vintage writing desk at an estate sale. The history it must hold! The stories it could tell! The testaments to passion it has witnessed! I got teary just imagining.

Do I need another desk? No. Do I lack for home furnishings in any way? Definitely not.

And yet….I kept circling it, the way I might hone in on a cheese plate when feeling a bit peckish. I asked the price, hoping it would be in the bazillions. It wasn’t. Has it already been sold, perhaps by someone who hasn’t yet claimed it? Nope.

I stared at the Venmo code, undecided, until my husband said, “we’ll take both the desks.” Because he’d been smitten by a little writing desk of his own. Of course. How could we think to separate them?

I’m not much for writing by hand. I’m too impatient. I need to type at top speed before the inner critic has time to squelch my inspiration. But now I feel this little desk is urging me to something slower, more intentional. Not quite ready to dip a quill into the inkwell, but I have a set of gel pens and a variety of journals, just waiting for me to sit, muse, and simply write.

If there’s anything the COVID-19 pandemic has taught me, it’s the sheer joy of…