My word ledgers. Past posts have described this valuable tool, which, rather than a book of words that I've defined so that I may broaden my vocabulary, has become more of a Tarot or I Ching.
Two days ago, I finished studying one such ledger and then picked up a new one, it featuring a nifty string bookmark (why don't all books have these?). When I went to open it for the first time, I instinctively did so from this bookmark, which was set in its middle, randomly, from when I'd last gone through it.
Even though I wanted to start it from the beginning, I went with this funky middle placement. It felt very Right, in the distinct, characteristic way I've come to identify with these things.
Last night, I went to dictionary.com and noticed a little thing on their front page asking if you knew the word for inserting a day in a calender, which I did: "intercalate." Everyone knows that (everyone who reads my ledger, at least).
I clicked through the question, and it led to the definition for "intercalary." Close enough.
A maximizer, I read my ledgers over meals. This morning was no different. Halfway through my breakfast, however, I gave pause, on "intercalate."
On February 29th.
In a 200-page ledger containing a few thousand words.
When, two days ago, I'd started the ledger and opened it halfway, at the "wrong" place.