Tag Archives: writing

This Business of Blogging

17 May

I’ve been tossing around an idea for a long time, but it’s kind of scary.  It would require me to take a chance, hence the reason I haven’t done it yet; however, it’s been on the brain and I’m wondering if now might be the right time.  Will you help me make an informed decision?

I’m talking about self-hosting my WordPress blog.  You see, The Domestic Fringe doesn’t have sponsors or advertisers because it’s against the WordPress rules.  Now I love WordPress.  I’m one of their biggest fans, but unlike Blogger, they have some pretty strict rules about what you can and cannot do.  I respect that since they provide such great service for FREE.

You can never beat free – a big reason I’m still here blogging.

I’d like to do more though.  Right now WordPress throws an ad on my page.  I never even get to see the ad or video they insert and I would like a bit more control over that.  I’d also enjoy making a buck off the blog if that’s possible, and believe me, I have no grand delusions about getting rich.  I just want to expand a little, take on some sponsors, and maybe sell a little ad space.  Nothing crazy.  Just a start.

Here’s my problem.  FEAR.

I can talk myself out of anything.  ANY-THING!

It will be too much trouble transferring my site to a self-hosted WordPress site.  I don’t have enough facebook followers.  My stats are too low.  My readers won’t be able to find my blog if I move.  I’ll lose everything I’ve ever written.  I’ll have to pay a monthly hosting fee.  I’ll have to maintain my site myself.  Yada, yada, yada, yada…

You see?

That’s exactly why I haven’t done it.  I’m not much of a risk taker.  I haven’t ever jumped out of a plane, gotten a tattoo of my imaginary friend in the first grade, or threw my money into the stock market.

Sometimes I’m too safe for my own good.  Anything worth getting takes hard work and certain measure of risk, faith if you will.

Maybe it’s time to take the plunge.  I am claiming to live on the Fringe here.

Here’s where you can help me out…Do you self-host?  Have you tried to turn your blog into a little more than a hobby?  How many readers are enough?  Will I just be throwing my money away?

Help a confused girl out, will ya?  Tell me your story please.

And for the record, I didn’t have an imaginary friend in the first grace and I have no money to throw into the stock market.  I just didn’t want you to think I’m stuffing my mattress with cash and talking to little people in my head.

Thanks for the help!

Artificiality

23 Apr

Stone Mountain, Georgia

Artificiality

~ by FringeBoy

I went to McDonald’s one Saturday night.

I walked up to the counter and ordered a tea.

The awful stuff gave me quite a fright,

For what I was drinking was pure artificiality.

I spit it out on the floor.

I said, “Adios” and

I walked out the door.

____________________________________________

First, I would like to say how pleased I am that my son expressed himself through poetry.  He wrote this a little while back and I just ran across it once again.  I’m 100% on board with his thought process.  I believe McDonald’s is artificial; however, who goes McDonald’s and orders only “tea”?

French Fries – Definitely.

A Big Mac – OK.

A Chocolate Shake – Very Likely.

But TEA?

He must have visited a British McDonald’s.  It’s the only explanation.

We’re certainly not poets in our house, but creativity sideswipes us sometimes.  Even my daughter was writing acrostic poetry tonight.  Although my children seems to be getting groovy with their words, don’t expect to hear them at any coffee shop readings.  We’re just not that cool.  But, we do drink tea.  That must count for something.

How about you?

Are you smitten with poetry?

Do your words pour forth in iambic pentameter?

On a scale from 1-10, how groovy are you?

I’m about a -2.

Blogging: It’s In The Stars

20 Apr

I love blogging.  I really do.  It’s like free therapy.  I can lay down on my own couch and spill my guts to a world who really doesn’t care if I’m crazy or not.

I rarely blog about anything important or serious, because this blog is for fun – my fun.  I get to share photos and talk about the silly things my kids do and say.  This blog is the reason I took the time to write our love story and remember the details associated with the birth of my children.  It’s like a giant memory book for me, and I can pull it up on my laptop and let it sit on top of the coffee table if I want.  Originally I thought I’d write for friends and family, but I suspect few of my friends read this and almost none of my family does, but that’s ok.

Because I never kept a diary when I was young, I sometimes think I would not write if no one read; however, not keeping a diary was really an issue of Imightdieathousanddeathsifsomeonereadsmydiary.  I didn’t think I could adequately hide my diary from my mother.  That’s the real reason I didn’t write.  Now I’ve grown old enough to realize I’m not the only crazy woman in this world, so who cares if people glimpse into the abyss that is my mind.

Although I will admit, the idea of writing a lifetime’s worth of delicious diaries filled with silly stories delights me.  My kids would find them when I’m gone and spend the rest of their lives wondering if mom’s stories are “truth” or “fiction”.  How I could mess with them!

But instead, I blog and a few random people read my blog.

The thing is, I love you random people.  I feel like some of you have become friends, people I would invite over on Friday nights for a pizza and burp night.  (Don’t ask about the burping.  Please.)

There’s just one thing that makes me loony about blogging and it’s in the stars.  Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star is on auto-play in my mind and I can’t shut it off.  At the end of each post there’s a little strip of stars.  Have you seen it?  It’s right down there at the bottom.

 

Hardly anyone ever notices the stars.  In fact I forget that they’re there until a new post pops up in my right sidebar.  There’s a little widget that keeps track of my posts with the highest ratings.  Apparently they are the posts that you, the reader, likes, because you take the time to click on the stars.

One Star = Very Poor  (this is the MOST pathetic rating)

Two Stars = Poor  (a little less pathetic, but still LOSER)

Three Stars = Average  (it’s like being a “C” student)

Four Stars = Good  (ok, but you could’ve done better)

Five Stars = Excellent  (like very good baby, home run, atta girl, etc.)

These stars are a report card of sorts and I absolutely hate failing.  You should have seen me the time I got a “D” on a Shakespeare test in college.  I was certain I saw Juliet roll over in her grave.

When I made the stars to automatically appear at the end of each post, I didn’t think anything of it.  It was just an option with a little box I could check, so I did.  I mean, why not?  Who cares?  It’s just a few stars, right?

Wrong.  So miserably wrong.  I’m addicted to checking the stars, not for my astrological readings, but for my bloggy report card.  I hate to say it, but I’m a failure more often than I’d like.

Most of the time I get zero stars.  I’m totally good with this, but when I get two or three stars, I put myself on detention and make myself stay late after school so I can practice writing words that make sense.

And then it happened.

The other day, while I was still jet-lagged from my trip, I got one star.  One pathetic shooting star.  It crashed and burned right by my new family photo.

Obviously I’m not making the honor roll anytime soon.  I think I’ll tuck that post into the file with the Shakespeare paper.  Juliet will never rest in peace.

So now I’ll sign off and try to forget the stars, because I love you all, even the person who gave me one lousy star.  Hope you have a delightful weekend!  Remember tonight is pizza-burb night if you want to come.  ;-)

Spring: Time for Something New

23 Mar

Spring has sprung!  At least in New York.  I don’t know if winter will show his ugly face again, but I’m not even going to give it a second thought.  I’m too busy with something new.

You see, after a prompting by Stacey, the editor and fearless leader of An Army of Ermas, to try something new this spring, I kind of made it my mission.

First came a new cereal.

Chocolate Special K.  I know how ridiculous this seems, but honestly, I couldn’t avoid the temptation.  I needed cereal and Special K is a favorite of mine.  The lure of chocolate got victory over common sense and I bought a box.

I am happily mature enough to say, I like the Special K with strawberries better.  Despite popular opinion, mini-bars of chocolate are not what I crave first thing in the morning.

After I ate my chocolate Special K, I ventured out to the land of literary giants.  I attended a Literary Tea hosted in one of the historic homes in my town.  You may recall, I wrote about my fashion dilemma here.  The tea was stamped “approved” by a local British woman and the scones were lovely; however, I’m not sure I quite fit in with the literary tea drinking crowd.  I’m more of a cream-filled coffee and sweet cereal type of gal myself.

So I pressed on.  My next adventure took me…

You’ll have to visit me at An Army of Ermas!  I’m talking about my latest, greatest “new” over there.  So, come on over.  You know you won’t be able to sleep tonight until you find out what I did.

No clues.  I could have bungee-jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge or learned how to cook/not cook Sushi.  You’ll have to read to find out.  ;-)

Love you all!  Happy weekend to you.  All comments are appreciated over at the Ermas site instead of here.  See you there!

The Day After Ugly

20 Mar

So my “ugly” post is being received about as well as bowl of poison berries.  I just felt like I had to say life is ugly.  Sometimes.  We may white-wash her, prop her up in a corner, and paint her lips, but she’s still ugly.  There are people who are hurting, who have lost everything, who need some hope.  Some days are all about washing machines leaking puddles of sudsy water all over the floor and dryers burning up.  (true story)  The blessing is hope, even in the middle of all the ugly.

Enough about that.  Maybe I should stick to words and forget about artistic expression through lousy snapshots.

Now on to more frivolous, but equally important topics…

This Sunday FringeMan and I were anchors in a tug-of-war.  We were on opposing sides in a four-way tug-of-war.  Think about that.  How much of a chance do you think I stood when pit against FringeMan.  He most certainly had an unfair advantage.  Both myself and every single unfortunate child on my team went flying through the air.  I lost my flip-flops!

I think the Awana leaders set us up for comic relief.

Then it was parents/team-leaders against kids in a game of dodge ball.  Those children don’t mess around.  It was war and we handled those dodge balls like they were live grenades.  I launched one directly at my daughter and it walloped her in the head.  Perfect shot.  It exploded on impact.  Then they told me head-shots don’t count.  In what war do head shots not count?  It’s my own kid I took down and you’re gonna give her a second shot at life?

Dang.

It was a fierce game, but they gave us ice-cream sundaes when a cease-fire was called.  Ice-cream heals many wounds.

Maybe it’s the cure for all the ugly in this world.

 

This One is Personal

5 Mar

Today I get to be a guest on my friend’s blog, The Alliterate Author.  I’ve known Alissa and her family for about twelve years.  Her sister babysat my son when he was just a wee little lad.  Now he’s on the verge of the terrible teens and my friend is a newlywed.  She and her hubby make the cutest couple ever.

It’s shocking how everyone around me grows up while I just keep getting younger. It’s a phenomenon I do not understand, but choose not to question.

Despite the name of her blog, she’s fully literate and writes some great book reviews.  My critiques tend to consist of the phrases “I like it” or “It stunk”; however, I tried to step up my game today and give you a real book review.  Well, as real as I can write one.

I do hope you’ll join me over at The Alliterate Author.  I’m talking about a book that may change the way you think about certain people, subsequently altering your actions and reactions towards them. I don’t want to give it all away, so come on over and read.  This one is personal.

I know you’re dying to find out why, so click HERE to read.  Let’s give my friend and new blogger lots of comment love today.  Hope your weekend was everything you hoped it would be.

Happy Monday!

I am Versatile…I Think That’s Good

2 Mar

I am a bad blogger, because sometimes people give me nice awards and I ignore them.  Well, I say “thank you” and then I have every intention of following the award rules, but good intentions get me nowhere.  So if you’ve ever passed an award on to me, please know, I appreciate the thought; however I probably never got around to doing anything with that reward. I’m a bad, bad blogger.  That’s all.

If it makes you feel any better, I lost the bowling trophy I got when I was eleven too.  Never stick me with a blue ribbon, because chances are it will go the way of the lost and never found.

Today is a new day though.  It’s Friday and I’ve decided to bite the bullet and be a good blogger.  You see, JeanDayFriday gave me an award last week, the versatile blogger award.  I was honored, because if there’s one thing I strive for on The Domestic Fringe, it’s versatility.  One day it’s all how I lost my skinny mirror and then next it’s about the church.  One minute I’m talking about going to the pig races and then next day I’m chasing my husband around and leaving steamy letters in his car.  It’s versatility!

For the longest time I thought it was ADD, but nope.  I’m pretty glad it’s not ADD, because as far as I know, there aren’t any awards for having a short attention span.  It’s versatility and there’s an award for it.

According to the rules, I must tell you 7 things about myself.  That’s not as easy as it sounds.  I’ve already made my confessions HERE and HERE.  I’ve told you everything!

So…here goes…some of this you’ve heard before, but I’ve had a surge (that’s a relative term) of new subscribers, so this may be new to you.  Hopefully.

1.  I went to an extremely small private high school and graduated with one other person.  I was related to him. You can imagine the fight to be named valedictorian.

2.  When FringeMan and I bought our first home in Maine, the realtor wanted us to dance around the closing table.  Naked.  (I wrote about it HERE.)  That’s why we moved.  No, I’m kidding.  We love Maine.  I lived there for six years.  I’ve also lived in Florida for a few, but I was born and raised in New York.

3.  I have a history of unfortunate events.  Some call it bad luck, but I don’t believe it luck.  Take for example – someone spit from the top of the staircase inside the Statue of Liberty and the spit landed right in my hair.  I was also stuck in a very cramped, hot, and smelly elevator in the Empire State Building.  The elevator just kept going up and down, up and down. I’ve also had birds poop on me, snow plows spray me with road grimed precipitation, and once my airplane hit a flock of geese and we had to make an emergency landing.  Trouble follows me.

4.  I have a clumsy side.  I try to keep it secret, but every once in a while, it gets out…like the time I was eating in a restaurant and I lit a bread basket on fire.  They shouldn’t put candles on the table.  Fire is dangerous you know!

5.  For the last 3 months of my second pregnancy, I shared concerns with my doctor over the size of my belly and consequently the baby within.  Each time she assured me there was nothing to worry about.  While lying in a hospital bed about to deliver, my doctor walked in, put her hand on my arm and said, “I want to talk to you about the size of this baby.  I think it may be too big.”

NOW you tell me?

You can read my baby story here.  My daughter was a whopper.

6.  I’ve always wanted to go to Australia.  I like their accent.

7.  Random strangers tell me their problems.  One pre-Christmas season I demonstrated toys in Waly-Mart.  It was a desperate attempt to earn money and it worked.  If counselors need clients, they should stand around retail stores with toys in their hands.  It’s amazing the tales I heard – death, infidelity, parenting problems, health issues, marriage mishaps, motor-vehicle accidents, and on and on.  Just today, the cashier in the grocery store told me her boyfriend lives off her.  I think people are just desperate for someone to listen to their story.  They should try blogging.

Now I am to nominate other bloggers for this prestigious award.

And I nominate:

Loyalist Cottage – go check out her pillows.  They were featured in a magazine and are all the rage.  You need one or maybe three.  I’m sure of it!

Sugar Blossom Boutique – a lovely blog I recently discovered.

Breakfast with Tiffany – I stumbled across her blog and realized we both went to the same college.  There were more than two people in my graduating class.  Just wanted to let you know.

Let it be Lovely -  She just did an amazing job organizing her desk.  You should see her mail solutions – lovely, just like the name of her blog says.

Mamas Minutia - She’s the most amazing cook ever.  I think I’ve gained 10 pounds since reading her blog.  She’s also a fun mom who belly dances.  How cool is she?

Withywindle – her tag line says “finding cheer and art in everyday”.  Nothing better than that.

Keiko Lynn – A fun fashion blog I’ve recently discovered.

The Goat and The Kid – A brand new to me blog that I am enjoying.

Beautifully Rooted - A place of inspiration for your heart, mind, and soul.

Confessions of a Pastor’s Wife – Sara always writes insightful posts.  Go visit her.  Your heart will be full by the time you leave.

Broken Poet – Laura is the best!  She’s a makeup artist, a young wife, and a beautiful woman.  She makes the best tutorial videos ever.  She’ll teach you how to do your hair and makeup and enjoy life.

If you’ll notice, I started this list with a mom and ended this list with her daughter.  I think that’s just perfect.

So, thank you dear blog readers for the awards past and present.  I’ll try to be better about accepting them and passing them along.

Have a great weekend!

Building a Community

29 Feb

FAAACEBOOK!!!!

 

I like blogging.  I know you’d never guess by all the words I use, but I really enjoy making connections with people in Portugal, Canada, Texas and everyplace in between.

Through blogging, I’ve had the opportunity to meet and develop friendships with some of the sweetest people.  I even got to know a girl in Spain with whom I attended the same college, but didn’t know her then.  How cool is that?

Blogging opened up a whole new world for me.

I sincerely appreciate each of you who take the time to read my ramblings again and again.  I never assume someone will read or comment, but I appreciate every person who does.

So thank you.

Because I’d like to keep in better touch with all of you, I created a facebook page for The Domestic Fringe.  You may have noticed a box for it in the right sidebar, but maybe you missed it.

I’m asking that you take a second to *Like* The Domestic Fringe on facebook.  I hope this page evolves into a place where I can help promote you, your blog, and your business.  I’d love for it to be a place for my readers to not only connect with me, but to also connect with each other.

Doesn’t that sound corny?

It’s true though.  I think my readers are some of the most amazing people in the world.  You are good at what you do, whether it be writing, sewing,  making jewelry, or sharing your life through blogging.  I’d like for us to become a community where we can encourage, promote, and support one another.

via Pinterest by handmadebyryangosling tumbler

I’m also trying to talk some people into sponsoring a giveaway or two on the facebook page.  So get in early and go *Like* The Domestic Fringe on facebook.

I look forward to getting to know you better.  If you have a business and you’d like a shout-out on the facebook page, send me an email with a link.  I may not get to it tomorrow, but I promise, I will get it.

 

Thanks for being awesome.  Thanks for being you.

Don’t Judge a Book or a Mom by Her Cover

27 Feb

via Pinterest by ffffound.com

This weekend I did something way outside the box.  I signed up for a literary tea.  I mean, I’m literary.  Aren’t I?

Although I wouldn’t classify this here blog as a literary masterpiece, I do occasionally play around with words and get them to line up in  semi-coherent sentences.  I also read.  And above all, I drink tea.

Win-win.

While I was doing my hair, my son came and stood in the bathroom doorway.  He asked where I was going, and I did something stupid – something a mother should never do.  I asked my son a probing question about my appearance.

“So, do you think I look like a writer?”  I asked.

“No.  You look like a mom.”  He said.

“Really?  Because I was going for the writer look today.”

“Well, then you need a fancy suit and a desk and glasses.”  He informed me.

“I have glasses, you know.  And I’ve been telling your father that I desperately need a desk, but writers don’t wear suits.  Why do you think that?”

“They always wear suits and fancy glasses in their pictures – the ones on the backs of the books.”  He told me.

“Well, writers dress a lot like me.  Most of the time they wear fluffy bathrobes and slippers and sit in front of their computers.”  I felt I should exonerate myself.

“Maybe if you dry your hair and put some makeup on it will be better.”  He said, trying to be helpful.

“I’m wearing makeup.”

“Oh.  I don’t know then.”  And he left.

In comes child number two.

I looked at her in her penguin hat and asked my second stupid question of the day.  “Do I look like a mom or a writer?”

“A mom.”  She said without hesitation.

“But why?”  I asked.  “I mean, I love looking like a mom.  Being a mom is my favorite thing ever, but I was trying to look more like a writer today.”

“It’s because I’m standing right next to you.  See?”  She moved in, right by my side.  We stood looking at our reflections in the mirror – I in my mom suit and her in her penguin suit.  “Now when I move away.”  She stepped outside the door.  “You look like a writer.”

Hot Dog!  I love her logic.

Writer it is.

Off to my literary tea I went, where as it turns out, I was the only person not dressed in black.  I guess I looked like a mom after all.  Silly me, writers do not wear brown.  Nope.  Moms, we wear brown from time to time.  We also look like moms, even if the kids aren’t standing next to us.

Moral of the story:

Getting dressed is way overrated.

OR

Go buy a desk and a pair of fancy glasses.

Have you done anything outside of your comfort zone lately?

Please do share!

Oh Vanity of Vanities – Fiction Friday Revived

24 Feb

You may need a little background before you read this excerpt from my larger work of fiction (still very much in progress).  I drew inspiration from my own bad hair cut, wrote about it, and continued the story line.  It’s all purely fiction, but you can gain a little understanding if you go back and read about my bad hair cut.  Then you’ll understand where this entry picks up.

Not My Life is the story of a pastor’s wife, Patty, who believes privacy is for fitting rooms and confessionals.  She wants to share her story with the world, even if it’s sometimes at the expense of her dignity.

That’s as basic as the story line gets.  Yes, I draw from personal experience.  No, this is not my life.  It’s fiction.  Aka – imaginative, made-up, full of untruth.  It’s a story, plain and simple

**********************************************

March 27, 2012

I promised myself I was not going to leave the house today.  I asked God if one day of sulking would be too much to ask, and He reminded me of Jonah.  Jonah sulked after Ninevah repented, and I figure spiked bangs and chopped locks damaged my psyche nearly as much as being swallowed by a whale.

I cried for an hour yesterday afternoon.  I couldn’t help myself.  Frank still laughs every time he catches a glimpse of my hair.  I’ve asked him to please stop, but he says it’s out of his control.  It’s automatic, like a reflex.  He sees my hair, thinks back to the now famous ‘Cut of 2012’ and falls into uncontrollable giggling fits.

If I could just take my head off and leave it home…how I wish!

I stood at the bathroom mirror for forty-minutes today trying to fix what’s left of my hair into a style presentable for Easter Sunday.  Did I tell you I’m singing on Easter?  A solo!  After using half a bottle of mousse, I knew this haircut is God’s punishment for my vanity.  As I stand before our congregation and sing He Arose, I will wish with all my heart that an empty tomb will open and suck me into oblivion.  Oh vanity of vanities!

I never suspected things could get worse.  I’m already suffering the trials of Job himself, if he were a woman.  Since my hair is too atrocious for taming products, I resorted to using Jane’s miniature claw clips.  When I finished wrangling my hair, I looked a little like Lady Liberty, only my spikes were pastel.  An entire row of rainbow clips framed my face.  If I were an Easter egg, I might be styling, but I am the minister’s wife!  I am singing on Sunday.  God (and maybe miracle grow) is the only one who can help me now.

So I turned to Him in prayer.

An Easter bonnet.  I’m sure he spoke that thought right into my very heart. So I grabbed my windbreaker from the hall closet and slipped one of Frank’s Yankee’s caps over the line of rainbow clips in my hair.  Swinging my bag over one shoulder, I headed out the door. To Macy’s I would go!

Walking through the door, I scanned the the brightly lit aisles filled with the pinks and greens of spring.  God bless Macy’s.  I didn’t see a familiar soul on the entire first floor, so I ventured in.  From three aisles away, I spied the perfect hat, wide-brimmed and floppy.  It was the color of not- too- summery butter-cream.  As my eyes locked on my millinery savior,  holy hands flew to the sky.  Unfortunately I quit paying attention to those around me and crashed right into the back of Mrs. Merryman.  Her generous skirt rose like a hot air balloon, and she landed on my left foot with a thump that rumbled the second floor.  I looked down and noticed my shoes – lime-green, cheese-thin flip-flops, and that’s not the worst of it.  My feet were cold early this morning, so I borrowed Frank’s wool hunting socks.  Apparently in my haste to hide my hair, I forgot to take them off.

Our jumble of hands and skirts attracted an extremely large crowd of eyewitnesses.  Frank would have been jealous.  I had a larger audience than he does on a pot-luck Sunday, and you know how many people show up for food!

Mrs. Merryman forgives me, or so she claims.  She was quite miffed sitting in her heap of pleated skirt and store bags.  I can’t blame her.  I barely forgive myself.   She didn’t utter the words “I’m sorry” until I swallowed my last little bit of pride and took off the Yankees cap.

Actually, her hand flew to her mouth.  It was hanging like she had loose hinges on her jaw, and she said, “Oh, my lands!  Who did that to you?”

Before I could tell her, she sucked in a breath that seemed to deplete all oxygen from the air, and muttered in a barely audible whisper, “It was Helen. Wasn’t it?  I’m so very sorry my dear.”

One single tear walked from my right eye to my chin.  Then it fell on my water-proof windbreaker. Macy’s went silent.  I swear I heard the tear-drop hit the floor.

Thankfully Mrs. Merryman can still walk.  She said she’ll be in the third pew from the front on Sunday, waiting to see me on stage in my new hat.  I’ll look like a cross between Audrey Hepburn and Lady Gaga.  I wonder if I’ll make headlines in the Happy Valley Herald?  I only hope Frank will thank me for the publicity, otherwise, he’ll probably call Helen back to finish scalping me.

It’s So Not My Life,

Patty

************************************

Now, I’d love for you to join me in Fiction Friday.  If you’d like to share a little fiction today, please leave your link in the comments.  This weekend I will take the time to read all the linked posts.  I can’t wait!

All I ask from you is that you grab my nifty Fiction Friday button my sidebar and proudly display it your post.  Also, please link back to this post.  Thank you!

Hope you all enjoy your weekend.

P.S.  I created a facebook page for The Domestic Fringe.  I thought it might make staying in touch easier.  You can click the “Like” button in the upper right corner of my sidebar and we’ll be friends forever.  I promise to “Like” you back. ;-)

← Older Entries

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 221 other followers