Matches. Matchbooks. Matchboxes.
Tiny little nothings made to be used and thrown away. So utilitarian most people don’t give them a second thought.
But not me. I love matchbooks. And I love collecting them.
This month is a big one for my family. Not only are we celebrating my older daughter’s 14th birthday (HOLLA!) but that very same day marks five years since we first moved to Maine!
As someone who’s spent the better part of a decade trying to reconcile herself to a chronic disease, I know all too well you can be miserable, or you can accept, adapt, and move on. Shit happens. Whether good or bad, it’s life. And life is what you make it.
Four years ago I told the world: I want to be a roller girl. I declared my intent, as well as my fear, and I owned it. Although some initially scoffed, most readers said GO FOR IT! Last fall, I finally strapped 8 wheels to my feet and rolled out of my comfort zone.