I'm Not French, But I Get Bored and Have Memories

I seem to have caught on to a trend. No, it's not the Oscar trend, because I will never understand Hollywood award shows or the clothing they put on themselves - the pomp and circumstance is over my head.

It's about the fact that a year ago I bought a French memory board and I kind of like it. I can change out photographs, cards sent in the email, items needing my attention, and mail needing to go out. I simply slide it between the ribbon and the cotton-stuffed board.

Nope. No photos on this memory board that I pilfered from the net.

Anyway, after writing all morning and finally hitting submit, I decided to head to a few stores to cash in gift cards from Christmas. On my way home and knowing I was going to drive by Ocean State Job Lot, I decided I needed coffee. Lo and behold, they also had ridiculously cheap French memory boards so I decided to buy some more. Now I will need to print out more photographs to update the memories I actually have from the life I live.

I sort of like the versatility of a wall hanging where images can be traded in and out as time goes on. It needn't be locked away in an album somewhere, but can sit around the house offering possibility, hope, and what once was.

I love walking by the few that I already put up, and I am looking forward to making more: times spent with family, laughter shared with friends, shenanigans of the crazy Crandall world, and inspirations from my world in stereo. I have to say that such images center me each day as I depart into the world wondering what it will bring me.

I don't know. Because there French, I feel like I should be sipping coffee and blowing smoke in your face, but I seriously love these boards because they kill two birds with one stone: wall space and togetherness. It's a win-win situation if you ask me.