My hubby opened up the Cedar Chest last night. *gulp* Out came a slew of memories I tucked away in our last move. Most of them center around when we met, dated, wrote letters, and fell in love. (Yes, now before you die for sugar poisoning...) The last relics to tumble free were remnants of the early writing days. With trembling fingers I thumbed through the old pages, and surprisingly, didn't gag.
You know what I found? That 17 to 18 yr old girl did pretty okay with her budding talents. In fact, I only cringed at the typos and grammatical errors. That led me to wonder, are we too hard on ourselves? Do we sometimes refrain from sharing when we really shouldn't? (My hubby is pointing and saying, "I told you so!") *ahem*
SO, I thought I'd share a few "antiques"--pieces of a "picture book" from 14 years ago. (Yes, I once fancied myself a sketch artist/cartoonist.)
Anyway, what do you have kicking around your attic? What are you afraid of sharing, even though you probably shouldn't be?