We’ve been through a lot, you and I. You’ve read from the beginning when Frankly, My Dear . . . started out as a diary of a sort of social experiment, then grew.
First I learned to crawl, then walk, and threw in with some nifty vocabulary lessons.
It’s been over four years of fun, drama, food, family, life, death, everything and nothing. And y’all have stuck with me like melted cheese on a hot spoon.
You’ve been there as I started New Inklings Press. You supported my fundraising for The Unemployment Cookbook and #MoJoDoingTheWriteThing.
You’ve been … read the rest. . .
Hey, y’all. I trust you had a great weekend. Mine was wonderfully out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, I don’t have any new photos to share. Crazy, right? I mean, this is me we’re talking about. Oh, well. Take my word for it: the scenery was beautiful.
I drove up to Fresno, which is no little task for me. When I was younger, I used to drive all the time. It was nothing to head to the beach or Disneyland or even up to the mountains. But somewhere between here and there, my collection of car accidents plus having Dot to … read the rest. . .