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Out and about...
Jan. 10th, 2015 09:35 pmDromgoole's is a store over in Rice Village that sells writing instruments and stationary. I recall visiting the place back when I routinely traveled between Colorado and Houston to help support the ISS program in the early oughts. I "rediscovered" the place during my recent visits to doctors, stopping by this past week after my tests.
I found out there is a fellow who comes into the store on most Saturdays, where he is given a space in which to work so he can repair instruments—mostly fountain pens—brought in by customers. So since I was planning to visit an old acquaintance during her monthly "open house" of her art, I arranged to swing by Dromgoole's to see about fixing the Mont Blanc Meisterstück that replaced the one I bought on the occasion of the publication of my first book (long story), and which doesn't quite leak ink as allow ink to emerge altogether too freely when it is being carried or used.
It turns out that, by the time I got to the store, there was quite a line waiting to "see the pen doctor."
Ah, well... I've haven't used the pen for years, so I guess I can wait a few more weeks to fix it. It really is a nice pen (when I don't have to use blotting paper after every few words).
The art open house was held at an address in a part of town utterly unfamiliar to me, over on Winter Street. The building housing the sixty or so artists looks like an old, two-story warehouse.
My acquaintance was there, and she appeared pleasantly surprised to see me. I didn't stay long, as the weather was pretty poor (it rained almost all along my way). If I had some spare cash, I'd be tempted to buy one or two of her pieces, actually. But not now.
I got a good piece of translation done before going out and about, and have been turning the place upside down since returning for the Post-It the nurse gave me specifying the time I was to report on Monday morning for whatever activity they have in mind for me.
Cheers...
I found out there is a fellow who comes into the store on most Saturdays, where he is given a space in which to work so he can repair instruments—mostly fountain pens—brought in by customers. So since I was planning to visit an old acquaintance during her monthly "open house" of her art, I arranged to swing by Dromgoole's to see about fixing the Mont Blanc Meisterstück that replaced the one I bought on the occasion of the publication of my first book (long story), and which doesn't quite leak ink as allow ink to emerge altogether too freely when it is being carried or used.
It turns out that, by the time I got to the store, there was quite a line waiting to "see the pen doctor."
Ah, well... I've haven't used the pen for years, so I guess I can wait a few more weeks to fix it. It really is a nice pen (when I don't have to use blotting paper after every few words).
The art open house was held at an address in a part of town utterly unfamiliar to me, over on Winter Street. The building housing the sixty or so artists looks like an old, two-story warehouse.
My acquaintance was there, and she appeared pleasantly surprised to see me. I didn't stay long, as the weather was pretty poor (it rained almost all along my way). If I had some spare cash, I'd be tempted to buy one or two of her pieces, actually. But not now.
I got a good piece of translation done before going out and about, and have been turning the place upside down since returning for the Post-It the nurse gave me specifying the time I was to report on Monday morning for whatever activity they have in mind for me.
Cheers...
