I can still remember it. Eight years old, second grade, Mrs. King’s class, and I’m openly stressing to my friends about a particular embarrassment that I’m hoping to conceal from the other students. To tell you the truth, the one thing I can't remember is what this embarrassment exactly was. But, hey, it was second grade in the 90s; it could have been anything. Even a jean length that didn’t adequately cover your ankles was cause for ridicule in 1993.

It sure is bright in here! Give your eyes a few seconds to acclimate, and then say hello to our refreshed blog. For months now, I’ve wanted to put a bit more attention and effort into this space. As you will surely notice over the next few minutes of reading, I’m not the most elegant of writers, but it’s nonetheless something that I enjoy (and miss) doing; typically at a cafe close to my house, with a cup of coffee by my side.