Nervous, self conscious, full of wanderlust and longing. You’ll find me at a crossroads of good manners and questionable choices. I am a strong believer in hand written thank you notes, dressing up for weddings and funerals, and the proper use of a knife and a fork (never mind the flask in my purse). I dress for the grocery store and think it’s just as easy to put on nice clothes as sweat pants. I believe in random acts of nudity (this or may not be related to aforementioned flask). I’m afraid of the dark and bees. You will never find me voluntarily viewing a scary movie. I’m pretty sure I yell at my kids too much. I went to NASA Space Camp but took algebra II four times before they finally got sick of me and moved me along. I lived in Ibiza, worked on a farm in the rolling hills of mainland Spain, and once awoke in Belgium with a wheel of cheese in my pocket (still working that one out) before finally moving back to my hometown to settle down (a subject up for debate, considering your definition of “settling down”). I come from a seafaring town of ill-repute and I like it. My husband is a saint (see: flask, nudity, cheese wheel) and a savant. My children come from the brightest folds of the universe and I wonder every day when I’ll wake from this dream. My biggest want for them is to know compassion and love.
My intentions are simple with this blog: capture the little morsels that make up my life before they slip away forever; to have some fun; to make someone happy. I ask you only to be nice and if you can’t or won’t, kindly shove it.