In the kitchen beside the telephone is a address notebook with phone numbers and whatnot. I have almost pillaged it dry of paper. Whenever insight hits (which is often in the kitchen, since I have the metabolism of a hummingbird and am frequently in need of more energy), I must compose the stroke of verse that hits me, and from that one line I can usually roll out a piece. I simply can't resist the urge, no matter where I am, and for that my telephone number pad has suffered.

In other news, while searching for a writing device I picked up a regular pencil for the first time in forever. It made me consider which is better for the environment: wooden pencils that kill trees, or mechanical pencils (in which plastic is a negative, but they are refillable). Just the sort of random thoughts I have.