Late to the party

{You try telling a six year-old that fedoras are no longer a thing. I guarantee she’ll be wearing that hat until they come back around. If I’m destined to always be late to the party, Emerson will show up early and eventually wear out her welcome. We are different that way.} That’s where I often find myself. Several months or even few years behind the crowd. Not in all things, mind you. I can thank my parents for instilling an appreciation for dark chocolate and a perfect cup of home brewed drip coffee at an Read More →

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