This last St. Patrick’s Day, March 17th, I forgot to wish myself a happy blog-birthday! I’ve been blogging for 3 years. I started blogging because of Mike, Steph, Jim, Eric and the Pjaks. Then it kind of grew into it’s own monster, and I like to think that I had a strong role to play in the blog-births of at least Rory, Diane, and the Lyons–maybe Templetons too? It’s become a great outlet for me and something I really enjoy. I think I’ve picked up a few new readers, too, according to Google analytics. In fact, I have quite a few international readers, so if you ever want to comment, I’d love to know who you are!

In those three years I have a few posts that are my favorites, and I think I might occasionally re-post them under Greatest Hits. It will be Departement of Redundancy Department for some of you long-time loyal readers, but maybe something new for others.

This is one. I wrote this poem based on a template I found on this website. It is basically a love letter to 3 people in my life, my mom, dad and brother. It’s full of things precious/funny to our immediate family, but I think you can get enjoyment out of it too. What I would LOVE to see is a few of YOU write one and post it on YOUR BLOG! I won’t “tag” anyone, but it’s not hard to do (the template walks you right through each line) and it would make a great mother’s day present. 😉

“Where I’m From” by Jen B-T

I’m from Douglas firs and Super Mario Brothers. I’m from Psalty, Five Mile Creek and Ramona Quimby.

I’m from the fourth house on the left, the cul-de-sac, from rooms kept cool in the summer by fans and closed blinds. I am from a true wood-burning fireplace.

I’m from the roses and hydrangeas, from Veda, Trillium and Mirror.

I’m from year-by-year collages in the hallway and toothbrushes in the kitchen; from Carters and Mulkeys and Helphensteins. I am from quick to laugh and easy to cry, smart and smart-aleck; from photographs as a second religion. From hanging on and letting go.

I’m from “obnoxiously functional.”

I’m from road trips and hiking trips and “we’ll take as many breaks as you want but we’re not carrying you.” I’m from “TV coins” in the jar for every hour I’ve read.

I’m from Winkie and Jesus, Sunday school and VBS; from faith as a lifestyle, not just a label. From Turner and WiNeMa and PCCofHIU. I’m from education as a value and an honor, not an obligation.

I’m from the incomparable Pacific Northwest and Southern California perfection; from Minestrone soup and home-made caramel corn. I’m from McDonald’s as a treat, not a routine.

I’m from a plastic cup flushed down the toilet and a knee injury in racquetball. I’m from tole-painting and hand-sewn dresses, from chocolate pudding as finger paint.

I’m from scrapbooks, from nostalgia and movies. I’m from expressive and unconditional love, vocal pride and unhesitating forgiveness. I’m from a place that shapes my history and my future.

How could I ask for more?