I’m at home over Thanksgiving. Not my home, but my old home that I still call home, despite not having lived there for a couple of decades. The home where my Dad lives. We are cleaning out the basement for a remodeling project–my sister, Chad, our kids. We take loads out to the driveway and […]
It was just days after Chanelle was born. Friends stopped by to visit and to meet our new little girl. They oohed and aahed at our new little bundle, while Charlie, who was not yet two, toddled around us. After a lovely visit, they were stepping outside into the darkness and the brisk cool air and one of them turned back, looked at the four of us and said, you have your boy and your girl. It’s perfect. Don’t mess with that.
The blogging years are over. The blogging is the new black season, lovely as it was, had it’s day. Now 280 characters are far too many. Can I have the reader’s digest version, please? Cliff’s Notes are too wordy. Single words are spashed on a screen while a video set to fun, heartfelt, or soulful music plays on a screen. Meant to make us feel something, for a moment, but just for a moment. We flit from here to there, scrolling, eyes dancing over headlines and captions—we see so much, but do we really see?