Nothing much happens: bedtime stories to help you sleep - School Supplies

Episode Date: August 31, 2026

Our story tonight is called School Supplies, and it is a story about a way to mark the end of warm weather and the beginning of crisp days. It’s also about planners and paper goods, tiny scissors and which color folder for math, and treating yourself to something new just because it makes you smile. Upgrade your everyday. Download the Quince app for app-exclusive offers, or go to quince.com/nothingmuch. Get free shipping on your order and 365-day returns. Now available in Canada and the UK, too. Subscribe to our ⁠⁠⁠⁠Premium channel⁠⁠⁠⁠. The first month is on us. 💙 ⁠Join⁠⁠⁠ the Village of Nothing Much App! Order Kathryn’s new book ⁠⁠⁠On the Street Where You Live⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠NMH Merch, Autographed Books and More!⁠⁠⁠ Listen to our daytime show ⁠⁠⁠Stories from the Village of Nothing Much⁠⁠⁠ ⁠⁠⁠Sit Meditation with Kathryn⁠⁠⁠ Follow us on ⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠⁠ Visit ⁠⁠⁠Nothing Much Happens⁠⁠⁠ for more Village fun! Sign up for our Newsletter ⁠⁠⁠here⁠⁠⁠ to be in the know! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Get more Nothing Much Happens with bonus episodes, extra long stories, and ad-free listening, all while supporting the show you love. Subscribe now. Welcome to Bedtime Stories for Everyone, in which nothing much happens. You feel good, and then you fall asleep. I'm Catherine Nikolai.

I write and read all the stories you hear on nothing much happens. Audio engineering is by Bob Witterstein. We are bringing you an encore episode tonight, meaning that this story originally aired at some point in the past. It could have been recorded with different equipment in a different location. And since I'm a person and not a computer, I sometimes sound just slightly different,

but the stories are always soothing and family-friendly, and our wishes for you are always deep rest and sweet dreams. I have a story to tell you. It is a place to rest your mind. All you need to do is listen. As always, I'll tell it twice, and I'll go a little slower the second time through. Our story tonight is called school supplies,

and it is a story about a way to mark the end of warm weather and the beginning of crisp days. It's also about planners and paper goods, tiny scissors, and which color folder for math, and treating yourself. to something new just because it makes you smile. One of my favorite things about the end of the summer is that shift when the evenings start feeling cooler, and suddenly you want your home to

feel a little cozier again. And for me, the bedroom is the first place I notice it. I've been using quince bedding, and I really love the quality. Their 100% European linen is soft, breathable, and gets even better the more you wash it. It has that easy, relaxed look that makes a bed feel inviting without looking overly fuss with. And they also make organic cotton sheets, if you like something a little cooler and crisper, and lightweight quilts and coverlets that are perfect for adding an extra layer as the seasons start to change. And because Quince works directly with ethical factories and cuts out the middlemen, their products are priced 50 to 80% less than similar brands. I use Quince myself. I am wearing Quince lounge clothes as I record this for you.

And if you've been wanting to make your bed a little more comfortable, I really do recommend it. Upgrade your every day. Download the Quince app for app exclusive offers or go to Quince.com slash nothing much. Get free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. Now available in Canada and the UK too. That's QINCE.com. nothing much. Now, turn off your light, slide down into your sheets, and get as comfortable as you can. You have done enough for the day.

Nothing remains, but rest. Take a deep breath in through your nose. Let it out your mouth. Nice. One more. Breathe in. And out. Good. School supplies. When I saw displays starting to appear in the stores a month or so ago, I had a moment of bittersweet emotion. It meant, of course, the end of the summer. And I loved the summer, the slow, lazy days, the break from rigid schedules, the sunshine, and the flower-filled window boxes. But there comes a point, after months of that,

that I begin to crave a little more structure to my days. I begin to want to put on a sweater, to feel a gray sky, comfortingly low over my head, and to see those flowers replaced with a row of pumpkins. and gourds. Maybe that is part of the siren's song of school supplies. They call me back just when I need it, to a feeling of order, an organization, the promise of freshly sharpened pencils

and a new stack of notebooks to make my sometimes messy thoughts make sense. When I was still in school, choosing which bookbag, which markers and pencil case, were very big decisions. They were ways to try on ideas of who I might be. Was I the kind of person who had plain colored folders, or did I pick one with pop stars on the front? Was I the sort who kept my book bag pristine, or would it be covered with buttons and drawings inked onto the fabric?

All these years later, I still found myself trying on different styles and ways of being and expressing, understanding finally that I didn't have to settle, on one version of myself. For a while, after I'd graduated, I'd stopped strolling through the aisles of school supplies, feeling like my time with them had passed,

but at some point I realized, even though I wasn't going back to any formal classes in the fall, I still liked learning and organizing, drawing and writing, filing things away in folders, and getting a fresh pack of markers. Besides, those supplies made me happy, and I didn't have to explain why to anybody. so I started taking myself school shopping again. Sometimes I shopped at my local corner store,

or in the aisle of the grocery, which was always stocked up for weeks before kids went back. But today, I was visiting what was, in my opinion, the best spot in town for such things, the stationary shop on Main Street. They sold paper goods of all kinds, and I'd gone to them to have some dinner party invitations made a while back. They'd even done matching place cards for the table and supplied me with cocktail napkins with a fancy gold stripe that I'd loved. They, of course, stocked stationary and envelopes, pens and pencils. But they also had craft kits and sheets and sheets of stunning wrapping

draped over the rungs of an old ladder, braced against the wall. There were journals and note pads, planners and book plates, and thank you notes, birthday cards. They had plenty of supplies for my desk, but also had cut paper Halloween decorations.

And I knew I would be leaving. with some of those as well as my other purchases. I took a small handle basket from a stack by the door and began to browse. On a table were stacks of journals and planners. I always bought myself a new planner in January. But these were tempting. I thumbed through one with beautiful past,

illustrations. I came with a small metal ruler for making my own grids and lines on the blank paper at the back of the book. Another one had a dozen different color ribbons. Their shiny satin was so smooth. They begged to be touched.

I slipped one into the end of September. tugged it till it was taught and snapped the book shut to admire how the tail of it looked trailing from the bottom of the pages. I picked the green ribbon for September, and it reminded me of the strong feelings I'd had in middle school about what color folder or notebook should be used for each subject. Green was September, but it was also science. Yellow could be for April and for English. Red, obviously, was math. And I flipped through the journal, looking for the most

red month, finally settling into the page, marking the beginning of May. I chuckled, thinking about the sometimes fascinating and sometimes silly connections brains make. On a shelf, I found some pretty desk accessories. I got a little fan brush for cleaning between the keys on my keyboard. and a wick trimmer to keep my candles burning cleanly. There was a small bowl of scissors, so oddly pretty that I immediately set my basket down to take a closer look.

I had a pair of scissors and the cup on my desk already, but they were utilitarian for cutting out, pictures and magazines, or labels to attach to packages. These scissors were small, reaching just across the palm of my hand, and a beautiful gold color. They were fashioned to look like a crane. His legs were the handles, reaching down to the finger loops, and the closed blades were his beak. The pivots grew, one flat shining eye. I guessed that they were meant for embroidery work.

The perfect size for snipping through a thread, but I thought they would look lovely in a dish on my dresser and would work just as well to cut a tag from a new sweater. Oh, I loved them. I love a pretty eye. object that seems slightly too beautiful for the amount of work it will do in its life. When the balance between aesthetic and function was just slightly askew, into the basket they went. I picked out a book of drawings of birds that came with a small watercolor palette and brush,

a box of paper clips and a shape I'd never seen before and a thick pink eraser to use on the Sunday crossword before I took my treasures up to the checkout I went through the spooky section and found a long, gangly skeleton

made from stiff card paper and fasteners he would look thrilling hanging in the tall window on the second floor. I could attach him to a hook in the ceiling and backlight him with a reading lamp from the sidewalk. He would be quite the specter. The summer might be ending,

but with my basket full of grown-up school supplies and bits and bobs to decorate for Halloween. I was ready to let her go and welcome the autumn. School supplies. When I saw displays starting to appear in the stores a month or so ago, I had a moment of bittersweet emotion. It meant, of course, the end of the summer. And I loved the summer.

The slow, lazy days, the break from rigid schedules, the sunshine, and the flower-filled window boxes. But there comes a point, after months of that, that I began to crave a little more structure to my days. I want to put on a sweater, to feel a gray sky. comfortingly low over my head and to see those flowers replaced with a row of pumpkins and gourds. Maybe that is part of the siren song of school supplies.

They call me back just when I need it to a feeling of order and organization. the promise of a freshly sharpened pencil and a new stack of notebooks to make my sometimes messy thoughts make sense. When I was still in school, choosing which book bag, which markers and pencil case are very big decisions.

They were ways to try on ideas. Of who I might be, was I the kind of person who had plain colored folders, or did I pick ones with pop stars on the front? Was I the sort, who kept my book bag pristine, or would it be covered with buttons? Drawings inked onto the, fabric. All these years later, I still found myself trying on different styles and ways of being and expressing, understanding finally, that I didn't have to settle on one version of myself for a while

after I'd graduated. I'd stopped strolling through the aisles of school supplies, feeling like my time with them had passed. But at some point I realized, even though I wasn't going back to any formal classes in the fall, I still liked learning. and organizing, drawing and writing, filing things away in folders, and getting a fresh

pack of markers besides. Those supplies made me happy, and I didn't have to explain why to anybody. so I started taking myself school shopping again. Sometimes I shopped at my local corner store or in the aisle of the grocery, which was always stocked for weeks before the kids went back. But today I was visiting what was in my opinion. the best spot in town for such things. The stationary shop on Main Street. They sold paper goods of all kinds.

And I'd gone to them to have some dinner party invitations made a while back. They'd even done matching place cards for the table. and supplied me with cocktail napkins, with a fancy gold stripe that I'd loved. They, of course, stocked stationary and envelopes, pens and pencils, but they also had craft kits and sheets of stunning wrapping paper draped over the rungs of an old ladder braced against the wall. There were journals and notepads and planners, book plates, and thank you notes, and birthday cards. They had plenty of supplies for my desk, but also cut. paper Halloween decorations. And I knew I would be leaving with some of those as well as my other

purchases. I took a small handle basket from the stack by the door and began to browse. On a table were stacks of journals and planners. I always bought myself a new plan. I always bought myself a new planner in January. But these were attempting. I thumbed through one with beautiful pastel illustrations. It came with a small metal ruler for making my own grids and lines on the blank pages at the back of the book. Another one had a dozen different color ribbons. Their shiny satin was so smooth, they begged to be touched. I slipped one into the end of September, tugged it till it was taught, and snapped the book shut,

to admire how the tail of it looked, trailing from the bottom of the pages. I'd picked the dark green ribbon for September, and it reminded me of the strong feelings I'd had in middle school about what color folder or notebook should be used for each subject. Green was September, but it was also science. Yellow could be for April and for English. read, obviously, was math, and I flipped through the journal, looking for the most red month, finally settling into the page, marking the beginning of May, I chuckled, thinking about

the sometimes fascinating and sometimes silly. connections brains make. On a shelf, I found some pretty desk accessories. I got a little fan brush for cleaning between the keys on my keyboard and a wick trimmer to keep my candles burning cleanly. There was a small bowl of scissors, so oddly pretty that I immediately set my basket down to take a closer look. I had a pair of scissors in the cup on my desk already, but they were utilitarian for cutting out pictures in magazines or labels to attach to packages. These scissors were small, reaching just across the palm of my hand, and they were a beautiful gold color.

They were fashioned to look like a crane. His legs were the handles, reaching down to the finger loops, and the closed blades were his beak. The pivots grew. One flat shining eye. I guessed that they were meant for, embroidery work, the perfect size for snipping through a thread. But I thought they would look

lovely in a dish on my dresser and would work just as well to cut a tag from a new sweater. Oh, I loved them. I love a pretty object that seems slightly too beautiful for the amount of work it will do in its life when the balance between aesthetic and function was just a bit askew. Into the basket they went. I picked out a book of drawings of birds that came with a small watercolor palette and brush, a box of paper clips in a shape I'd never seen before. and a thick pink eraser to use on the Sunday crossword. Before I took my treasures up to the checkout, I went through the spooky section

and found a long, gangly skeleton made from stiff card paper and fasteners. He would look thrilling, hanging in the tall window. on the second floor. I could attach him to a hook and the ceiling and backlight him with a reading lamp. From the sidewalk, he would be quite the specter. The summer may be ending, but with my basket full of grown-up school supplies and bits and bobs to decorate for Halloween. I was ready to let her go and to welcome the autumn. Sweet dreams.