From The Writing Cottage: The Diary.....

"Nulla dies sine linea"

~No Day Without A Line~

In a recent post I shared with you what was on my worktable and today I though I would share with you my latest writing project from the writing cottage. The account you read below is true and tells how I came upon The Diary...In a dimly lit corner of an antiques store stood a rustic wooden table filled with items once useful in days gone by. Underneath sat an old battered pasteboard box filled with outdated maps and musty smelling books. I'd never have known it was there had my toe not tapped it as I scooted closer to the table to reach for an item displayed on a shelf above. The contents looked intriguing enough to investigate. This is where I found the diary.

As I shifted aside road maps of Route 66 as well as those of countries I've only dreamed about visiting, my eyes brushed across a small book. My heart skipped a beat of anticipation as I reached for the small red cloth bound volume. Gently blowing away a fine layer of dust from the surface of the well preserved book, bright gold embossed lettering and scroll work blinked at me from the crimson surface. The lettering read, A Line A Day.Turning the book over in my hands, examining the binding, spine, and page edging I discovered near perfect condition. My heart tripped with even greater delight when I opened the cover, flipped through the pages, and noted the copyright date of 1892 by the Samuel Ward Company, 49 Franklin Street, Boston, Mass.

Inscribed inside the front cover in an old fashioned script were a name, date, and address. The diarist name was Katherine. Hastily scribbled inside the front cover is the following quote:

"The price of wrath is to serve
The price of happiness is to give
The secret of peace is faith
The pathway to health is lovers love"
~Attkinson~

As I stood in the dim lighting, diary cradled in one hand while fingers of the other caressed the yellowed pages, I felt weight of history in the palm of my hand. The first entry was written on October 27, 1903, I held over one hundred years of living history.As my eyes drank in the entries with the thirst of a desert terrain I well imagined that I could hear the scratch of the pen nib across the surface of each page. I could hear the ink blotter wick up the excess ink residue. I could imagine Katherine in the period costume of her era sitting at a small writing desk by a window in her room, head bent over the quick movements of her hand from ink well to page as she made her daily entry, fulfilling the inscription, "Nulla dies sine linea." (No day without a line) Perhaps without knowing it, Katherine became a writer and historian on the day of that first entry, her twentieth birthday.

Carefully carrying my treasure to the store front I made my purchase and returned to my aunt's home, where I was visiting. My family and I were gathered in her living room as I sat and read aloud each entry, at least as much as I was able to decipher as penmanship was not Katherine's strong point, to their eager and listening ears. We laughed and marveled and wondered as the pages of history unfolded in this first hand account of life in the early 1900's through the eyes and words of an extraordinary young woman.I have had the diary in my possession for some time now and recently decided to translate it as I noticed that some of the ink is beginning to bleed and blur the words. I don't want Katherine's story to be lost. I feel I have been given the noble task of preserving her memory as well as sharing her faith.

I am getting more excited about this writing project as I have been able to trace Katherine and her family through census records. I am learning about the era and area she lived in. I would dearly love to find a photo of her. Although that hope is dim, it is still hope, after all, her diary made its way into my hands and perhaps her image will too. My hopes are that I can trace her family forward and find a present day relative and make contact with them if there are any.

I am not exactly certain what I will do with Katherine's story once all the transcription and research are done. Any suggestions?

Blessings,
Miss Sandy

Photos are of the writing cottage, Quill Cottage, where I write to you from.