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A Pocket Notebook Miracle 2 min read

A Pocket Notebook Miracle

I came this close to losing my notebook, and may have figured out where I lost another.

By Cary Littlejohn

Ever since I started seriously keeping a pocket notebook, I've been haunted by a mini mystery.

Shortly after I got back from Wyoming back at the end of February, I rummaged through the backpack I'd used on the trip. I was looking for a small Field Notes notebook that I'd taken on the trip with me into which I'd scribbled just a few lines while in Laramie. I found it in the front pocket of my backpack.

Then I lost it. I have no idea where it went. I'll sometimes get a wild hair to go looking for it again in the nooks and crannies of my house. I'll rifle through drawers and bins, check folded pairs of pants' back pockets, anywhere else I can think to look. As of yet, no luck.

At first, I was reluctant to start a new notebook. I was convinced I'd find the misplaced one, and I hated the idea of starting a new one when that one had so few lines scratched in it.

But eventually, I relented. I started anew with a different Field Notes.

Yesterday, a close call may have shed some light on my ongoing mystery.

I was coming up the parking garage stairs after tutoring students in the university library. Just before I reached my level, I had reason to think of my current Field Notes, tucked in my back pocket. Or so I thought.

I reached down and felt for it, but it wasn't there. I felt a mild panic; I knew I'd come to campus with it. Had I lost it in the library? Had it squeegeed out of my pocket while I was tutoring? Had I removed it and placed it in my backpack without remembering?

As these possibilities ran through my mind, I reached my level of the parking garage. This whole episode took place in the span of a few steps on the staircase. And as soon as I stepped onto the level, I saw a pop of color on the ground, near the wall.

The luckiest little pocket notebook ever.

There it was. It had fallen out of my back pocket and, luckily, nobody had picked it up (or if they had, they'd read my words and clearly realized it wasn't worth the effort they'd used to bend over in the first place).

While it sucks to think that's very likely what happened to my long-lost previous notebook, it's kind of nice to know it's not likely been misplaced around my house.

Naturally, upon retrieving this notebook, I promptly opened it and jotted down the whole episode, right there from behind the wheel of my car.