I have been pondering doing this for some time. For those of who who've found me (I made Chuck put a link to this) you've been asking, no, begging for this. "Start your own journal, Beth." Well . . . here it is. My journal. My first entry.
I've perused a variety of my favorite online journals to read their first entries. Some point out that they're embarking on this undertaking. Others just dive right in. I guess I'm somewhere in the middle.
"Stitches in Time." Why? I quilt. I like the sound of it. It summarizes what this will be. It's like a picture of a moment in time. A stitch in time. Is that too much?
To find out the gory details of me, read my bio. Or read this. It was my first 'stake special guest spot. Perhaps himself will grace these pages with some of his wisdom in a cameo role, although he'll probably save it and use it all in his own journal. There's only so much to go around.
I hope to keep this updated regularly. I can't promise daily. I have a full time job, a three year old, two, dogs, two cats, a husband, and house to look after, after all. I hate, though, when there are huge gaps in time in my favorite journals. I'm waiting to see how everyone's doing and they don't post. For days. Weeks. Is everything OK? Is junior sick? Is the wife/husband OK? Is Rover at the vet?
Of course all you'll know about me is what I let you know about me but you'll all come to know and love me. And sometimes you might not like me so much. But there it is. Enough about that.
Today we went to the Valley Heritage Carnival. It was held on the stately parking lot of L.A. Valley College. It's my guess that carnies don't have a dental plan. Never have I seen so many missing teeth on so many people over the age of one. One thing I never thought I'd see: a mobile home with a satellite dish. There was this Airstream with a mini-dish. I wonder how that works. I know you have to subscribe to a service. What's your address when you're traveling the country getting people to put your ping pong balls in floating ash trays? Just a point to ponder.
We ate a fair amount of junk food but not as much as I wanted. All Zoe wanted was what she called rotten candy. We got a big bag of it. She was a sticky pink and purple mess by the time we left. When I was a kid there were those machines that spun the stuff. You got it on a stick. It came in one color. Standard issue pink. Now it's blue, pink, and purple, and comes in a bag. Lord knows how old the stuff is. I guess that's not the point though.
Well, I think that's enough for the first one out of the gate. Until next time. . .