Dear Diary,
Today I spent the entire afternoon at the library. The dust motes were dancing in the sunlight that streamed through the high windows. It felt like time stood still.
I found a book about herbal magic and another one about Victorian lace patterns. I think I want to learn how to sew properly. There's something so grounding about making things with your hands.
Current thought: Is it possible to be nostalgic for a time you never lived in?
