I feel pretty silly, considering how many stops-and-starts I've had on this blog. I've "retired" it and yet I keep coming back to it. Last year...well, I think it was last year - who knows with how time flies! - I took several days to sit down and read thru the whole thing, choosing the posts I wanted to use for blog books to be made for my grandsons. My plan is to give them their copies when they graduate from high school. It ended up being quite the daunting task. I had over 2000 entries! I guess I'm a little longwinded when I sit down in front of a screen and keyboard, ha! I pared it way back. I had to. As it stood, when I first started editing, each copy it would've cost several hundred dollars each. I wanted to make only 3 copies...one for me and one for each grandson, but that would've taken it up to almost $1500. I dunno about the rest of you, but I'm not made of that kind of money. So...I kept nipping and tucking and finally ended up with 249 pages. That ended up being around $400 for all 3 but I could manage that tho I had to gulp a bit as I wrote out the check. My Dear Hubby, wonderful man that he is, encouraged me from the very beginning and gave me his blessing. Truth be told, I can't bring myself to read my copy yet. It tells the story of the years I had with them from birth until we moved here to Michigan in 2011. We spent every week day together for around 11 hours a day. Even as I write this in 2019 I still have plenty of interaction with them. I give rides to and from school when needed. Rides to baseball practices and games. But they're old enough now at 11 nd 13 to be on their own at home on vacation days and holidays. I'm basically "on call", I guess you'd say. And now that I'm 65 that's plenty. If I had to start over at this age it would just about kill me, lol! I definitely don't have the stamina and energy I had when I started out being a grandmother at 52. I have been so very blessed, tho, to have the years I've had with them. There is a bond there that is so precious. In the years when we lived in Portland, Oregon, where most of this 'blog book' happened, we went on miles and miles and miles of walks and had tons of fun together. It grieves me when I ask them if they remember any of it now, that they can remember the color of our house (blue) and stopping at the fire station to see and sit on the fire engines. But when we moved here they were just becoming 3 and 5. Their life has been here in Michigan. If I'm still alive when they get their copies of their books it will be interesting to see if they spark any memories for them. I left posts about me in there, too. They tell me I'm an awesome and crazy grandma now. I've always been a little off-the-wall...just ask anyone who knows me...so I'm leaving behind some of the goofy things I thought and said. I also recorded a lot of personal things. It truly is a family chronicle and I hope it means as much to them as it means to me.
I sent an email to a friend yesterday and I told her I just can't seem to get it together to want to write much of anything anymore which she knows is not like me at all. We've been best friends for 52 years and she's received plenty of letters and cards and suffered thru reading the silly 'teen love' stories I wrote all the way thru high school. Volumes and volumes. Reams and reams. I had an old turn-of-the-century black cast iron Underwood typewriter that weighed about 10 pounds back then. I had hundreds of pen pals around the world where those old handwritten letters could take weeks to arrive at their destinations. Now I sit here with my laptop, write an email or message, click a button, and they're delivered in nanoseconds. I have so much arthritis in my hands now writing anything by hand is very laborious. But, you know, the world has really lost something, no longer writing letters in one's own handwriting. There was something so...personal...about receiving a letter in the mail from a friend or loved one. Maybe that's why all my writing ambitions have disappeared. There's not much of a thrill staring at a white screen and trying to make my words mean anything to anyone. My email and their email and everyone else's emails all kind of melt into each other after a while. I can't look at Liz's email or my friend Sue's email or my cousin Ginger's and even know it's from them until I see their name on it. But, oh...to see any handwriting on an envelope let me know there was going to be something fun and worthwhile to read once I opened it!
As usual I've just rambled on. Isn't my mind a strange place, the way it meanders here, there, and everywhere, especially since I hardly ever end up writing what I thought I was going to write about to begin with.
My day beckons me so I guess I'd better get moving. It's a beautiful almost-freezing morning out there. It's just teasing us, letting us know Winter's on the horizon.