I was giving a gift that keeps on giving. My grandfather who I admire immensely wrote short stories during his adult life. Stories about people he worked with, people he meet, people he admired especially his family. He wrote these stories and had them put into binders with pictures and all. He graciously gifted these stories, all 5 binders 2inches a piece to each of his 5 grand children and his 2 children. These binders have moved house to house, town to town, state to state and honestly collected dust.
My sister about a year ago took her to be spiral bound and said that they now sit on her coffee table, bedside table and elsewhere she’s likely to pick one up. No story is longer than a few pages; so to sit for a moment and get lost in a time period when monthly rent was $1.75 and you walked to get where you needed to, go is special. Christmas rolled around and I was jealous that she was enjoying her books and mine were collecting dust. I requested that she have mine bound not an expensive items but one that took time. She did and I have been enjoying them so much. Escaping from my little New England town in Rhode Island to his little New England town in Massachusetts.
As I’ve been reading these books I realize why I enjoy writing this blog. I’m not one for story telling and not one for keeping journals in a timely fashion; but I do want to leave my mark, even if it’s little. I feel like these small snapshots into my wacky world and personality perhaps will one day be read by my kids and perhaps their kids. They’ll look back on the memories that they help be a part of or were based around them. Some glowing and some not. They will look at the crafts and say I remember and perhaps try them with their kids. They will go thru the piles of art work I’ve collected or made over the years and understand why it was so special to me.
So yes I enjoy my little blog with my few followers, but hopefully when they are older and past the hatting mom teen years, my favorite followers will be my kids.