I think blog writing is one of the most self-important, pretentious things you can do. But recently, I realized that one day my grandchild(ren) will look at me and think, has this lady always been such a wackadoodle? I think I owe it to him/her/them to make it apparent that a) mental illness runs in the family, b) they shouldn't be afraid of pesticides, commercial solvents or street drugs because my late-stage dementia has not been caused by environmental factors, but is just a natural progression of the crazy that has always been lingering under the surface.
In short, this blog is How I Met Your Grandfather without all the creativity and humor. Oh, and Morgan's almost nine, so no suspense either.
I'd like to think of you, my loyal followers (hi, Suze!), as a family. And like any family, some ground rules will prevent future conflicts:
1) Any misspellings, wrong use of words, etc. are intentional and should not be brought to my attention.
2) Come to think of it, I guess that's it. But I was taught you should never have a one without a two, so...I vow to never post any pictures of animals giving birth. It's not only gross, it's an invasion of privacy.
Really, this is a gift to you, Grammar Nazi.
