Three minutes from now I have to stop typing and pack the kids into the car. But until then it’s just me and you, blog. Me and you. I like typing on your blank pages. I like reading the thoughts of the people who come by to tell you what they think. I’ll miss you when you’re gone (and you will be gone someday).
It doesn’t take a lot to write to you. I should consider that more often, when I’m sitting here thinking “I have nothing worth telling the blog today, so I’m not going to say anything at all.” I know that makes you miss me. I’m sorry, blog.
It’s weird to talk to your