You were sleepy (and a little grumpy) when you came downstairs, into the kitchen, to get something to eat and then go back to bed, because you were still working nights and tired all the time.
You said: What are you doing, playing on the computer?
I said: I’m not playing; I’m writing.
What are you writing?
I think I’m going to start a blog.
What’s a blog – like Facebook or something?
Something like that, yes.
What are you going to blorg about?
(You have always been like my father this way, using silly-sounding, made-up words.)
I’m not sure, maybe cooking, or maybe it will be photos – a photo blog that’s like a gallery.
You’re not going to put any pictures of me on your blorg, right?
I might, yes.
jenny's lark 
I love these Jennifer – you have a real gift! Anna
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Thank you, Anna!
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These years are so short, yes? What is there to say? (Except everything, and maybe that’s why we blorg…)
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[…] all in one sitting, I wrote a series of 21 posts (20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Belonging) about our utterly ordinary marriage, a sort of Father’s Day […]
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LOL! This one really made me smile. My hubby does the same kind of thing. Making up words 🙂
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Are we not lucky to have men like that in our lives? I don’t think I appreciated it enough when we were younger, but I realize now what a treasure it is.
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