There is a portrait of my family taken when I was about ten. It's a church picture, one of those banal posed bits that has been taken and will be taken a hundred times, used in our pictorial address book.
We're all smiling in that picture. My dad is standing, one hand on my mom's shoulder (she's seated). Danny's on her lap, and I'm in the middle with Mercedes on my right. It's extremely dated. Like late 90's bright floral prints and boxy dresses and blatant ties. We look happy in that picture, or innocent in my younger siblings' case.
But whenever I look at that picture I remember fighting with my mom over what dress to wear.
I'm not airing dirty laundry. It just made me think of the real stories behind pictures. About the real people involved in a picture.
This is going nowhere. I'm just thinking. A dangerous pursuit at the best of times.
:-P
It was AMAZING to see Marika and Valerie for coffee today at Payne's. Two lovelier young ladies it would be hard to find. (Hi, girls!) We met at two o' clock and nearly three and a half hours later when Marika asked what time it was I had to admit with regret that it was already five fifteen!
One of my favorite parts of the afternoon was when the girls and I decided to trade writing. That will be such a motivator and a support for me! And I'm with Val... I miss reading my fellow writer's stories. We decided to submit one story at the end of the month to each member of our little group.
Hm... I think we need a name.
Alright, I'm off to scrounge up a meal. Love, love, love!
'Quel
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