• “I keep coming back to them year after year”: Laurie reviews the Textagenda at Plannerisms
• “Overall I think this will be a great journal for me to use”: Steve reviews the Journal 21, also at Plannerisms

One of the things that made me happiest about my Brooklyn garden was its provenance: some plants I inherited, some I bought, while others were given to me by friends and family. And though I’m sad I couldn’t take anything from that garden to my new house, I’ve already sowed the seeds of randomness in Piermont, with an apple tree from a good friend and tomato seedlings from our generous carpenter. One day, I’m hoping I’ll get back to Brooklyn to take a cutting from “my” old Rose of Sharon.

It strikes me that there’s something similar going on with almost all of the material things that I care about — my books and notebooks (the ones that survived), especially — which accumulate as much meaning in the aggregate as they have in the particular.

Where do your favorite things come from?

Summer break is here for many college students, but since summer (as I recall) goes fast, I figured it would be a good time to highlight one of our academic calendars: the Scholar.

Would that I had known about this during my own college and grad school days! It’s a weekly calendar with nice, open untimed lines on each day, big enough to write in comfortably, but slim enough to slip tidily into a bag or backpack. Plus, there’s a very decent chunk of space devoted to Sundays and a handy Anno Planner up front (though I imagine a monthly calendar would be useful, too).

The standard Scholar goes from August to July, but there’s also a 17-month version. It’s also available in our eco-friend Equology format. And when you want to graduate to a January-to-January format, the Hebdo is your equivalent (and it does have a monthly calendar).

Here are some reviews from around the web:

• Meems, myself, and I
• Author Jeff Abbot’s blog
• The Orchard
• Pentamento

Do you use the Scholar? What do you like best and least about it?

My spouse has said to me: “Adequate on time is better than superlative late.”  She’s right, and when I heed her advice I do a much better job overall. But my lengthy daily to-do list ends up putting me way behind.  I have tried organizing weekly, but too many things come up unexpectedly for that to really work. 

Like piling more on your plate that you can possibly eat, how do you manage to avoid putting more on your work plate than you can handle….particularly if there are many things to do, plus many more things you would like to do or see need to get done?

About a year ago, we asked if there was any interest in a small, blank staplebound Clairefontaine notebook. The wheels of product planning and development can turn slowly, but a recent comment we received to that old post reminded me to check with Karen, who herself was reminded that the small Graf it sketchpads might just fit the bill: 4×6, blank, with white 90g Clairefontaine paper.

Of course, the Graf its are stapled on top, Rhodia pad style, but if the size is right, you might want to give them a try. You’ll find a list of retailers on the Exaclair website.

It’s a good day for fresh art, with reviews of ink and paper.

• “The shading is incredible” – Ed Jelley reviews Herbin’s Terre de feu.
• “This was, after all, satiny-smooth Clairefontaine” – Earnest Ward experiments with a Webbie, an Exacompta Sketch Book, and some G. Lalo notecards.

While New York schools debate whether or not to cut cursive from the curriculum, legislators in the Carolinas have apparently introduced bills that would mandate its instruction. And though I value seemingly obsolete art forms as much as the next paper geek, I found this analysis from handwriting expert Kate Gladstone, who calls the legislation “ill-advised and ill-motivated,” to be enormously compelling.

Reading cursive, of course, matters vitally. However, cursive’s cheerleaders forget that one can learn to read a writing style without learning to produce it. (If we had to learn to write every style that we needed to read, we would have to learn to read and write all over again whenever anyone invented a new font.)

Reading cursive — when one does not have to learn how to write the same way — can be taught in 30 to 60 minutes to any small child who has learned to read ordinary printing. Why not just spend an inexpensive hour teaching children to read cursive — then use the time saved, and the money saved, to teach them to use some more practical form of handwriting themselves?

Most adults, after all, no longer use cursive.

It seems to me that technology has obscured the real issue here: that language is a moving target, and that forms of communication change over time. It drives me nuts when people say “between you and I” or use “less” when they should have used “fewer.” On the other hand, I split infinitives with abandon, and I’m grateful I live in an era when the so-called rule can be debated.

Similarly, I shudder to think we’ll reach a day when handwriting won’t be taught. But cursive? Perhaps it’ll go the way of Secretary and Anglicana, medieval “hands” we learned in graduate school for the purposes of reading manuscripts.

What do you think?

I didn’t have this problem in Brooklyn, because our house there was much more compact (2 stories, 2 rooms per floor). Our new house is modest in size, but it’s been added on to over the course of its 200-year-old history in a way that is totally charming — and totally maddening whenever I need a pen.

My fountain pens live near my desk (or they will, once the room has been finished), but I like to have other pens on hand when I need to, say, jot something down for the contractor, or take note of a random idea. I don’t have this problem with notebooks, perhaps because I’ve accumulated so many over the course of our six-year history! So I’ve ordered a box of Pilot G2s to distribute throughout the house. We’ll see if that helps… or if they’ll continue to accumulate in random rooms and/or under the couch.

Do you have trouble keeping track of your pens?

Apple is going to move away from skeuomorphic designs.  (Like turning the page, typing, pen or pencil icons, records, wooden shelves for books, etc.)  Basically skeuomorphs describe design elements that have no purpose in their current form but are used to give a familiarity to something from the past.

Apple’s designs will change, which means many other developers and inventors will take note, including app developers.  Apps are rapidly becoming indispensable tools and aids for living. 

Do you think the moving away from familiar but older products will have an impact on their use?  Will less and less people be able to “recognize” them, and therefore, pass them by?

Thanks again to all who entered our anniversary giveaway! Our winner, whom I’ve just emailed, is Jonathan R., who’ll soon be receiving his set of 12 Memoriae Notebooks.

We’ve also got two consolation prizes for runners up Matt A. (who’ll get the “My Hikes” notebook) and Shaynie M. (who’ll get the “My Dreams” volume).

Check back soon for more goodies…