Not sure what it is about coffee shops that make you want to exhume your roots and pour out all you inner chaos onto paper (or a macbook), thinking that people really want to read about all your personal musings. Maybe it's the warm lighting. Or the being aloneness. Either way, you are still reading...
Do you ever have those moments where you are suddenly transported back about fifteen or so years (assuming you are in your early to mid 20s) to your early childhood? Of course you do. My moments usually happen during those [frequent] aimless drives to nowhere. Growing up, there were few things that captured my heart more than sitting six inches away from the television, Hi-C juicebox in hand, listening to LeVar Burton read book after glorious book on The Reading Rainbow. Unfettering my mind, memories flashed and danced and poured and ran and flew over me. As one would pull itself up, another would be attached to another and another.
Memories of EZ Bake ovens, kindergarten graduation, school plays, Little Mermaid bicycles, honey-suckle and pecan picking, making sweet-tea popsicles (this happened), and much muchhhh more so generously greeted me.
As I drove on and was pulled back to present-day, I decided these little gems were too precious to let fly on without capturing a little something. How much will my 80-year old mind remember about these tender years? And oh the joy it will bring me in the future to think upon these times.
So here I sit, jotting down memory after memory that shows it's little face as quickly as I can. After just fifteen minutes of reminiscing, I have two full pages of wonderful (and now permanent) memories. I encourage you to do the same.
(wow, look at those shorts, would ya?!)
Cheers!
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