If you have been reading this blog for longer than two seconds, you most likely have been with me for some pretty painful blogging years (let's be real: they probably aren't over). Those early days -yikes. I have long held to the personal principal that I started this blog for fun, and that's how I want to keep it -however weird it may get at times. I don't want to feel like I have to produce content to keep up the page views or to sell a product or to get some Pinterest pins. I think (ok KNOW) part of that is due to pride. In other words, if I am not feeling like I have anything to publish here that will be The Best, and get a lot of shares or comments or ... whatever... then I don't want to do it. A lot of what Amelia wrote recently resonated with me in that regard. I read a lot of blogs. I have a lot of friends and acquaintances who blog. I am guilty of condescendingly rolling my internal eye-balls at people I feel like are just blogging to get the page c...
WHAM. I was hit with the smell of the juniper bush I had parked by. It instantly took me back to 1998 and my grandparent's driveway and hot summer afternoons at the pool and early morning walks to the cafe for breakfast and popsicles on the back porch and the peculiar smell of the garage and games of Aggravation and UNO and mandatory nap time and driving the golf cart and always choosing the same movie from the library and binge reading Hank the Cow Dog and always having dessert after dinner and the magic of being a kid and the magic of having those wonderful grandparents to invest in my life and shoot do I miss them.
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