So I Said To Myself…

I’ve been posting things on Facebook for a while. Not a lot, but enough. Some of it good, based on the feedback I sometimes get. Some of it needed, based on the shares. And some of it thought-provoking, based on the cease-and-desist orders I receive from some of my “friends.”

While I’m hardly narcissistic, I know I’d be great at it if I really tried. (Is there a prize I can go for?) But I’ve never been one to want to call attention to myself. That’s hard to do when you have something on your mind you want to share. And couching those sentiments in a way that doesn’t flaunt personal pronouns is hard: YOU try writing something about yourself without using “I”, “me”, “my”, “impressive”, “amazing”, and “utterly delusional.”

Now, in contrast my dear wife (not dearest — that implies a lesser “dearer” and third-rate “dear” and I find having one mother-in-law quite sufficient) has been blogging for several years now. She blogs when the stars align for her, and I really like that. The result is usually impressive and amazing, mainly because that moment of writing is really inspired. Not manufactured. There’s the distillation of thought and emotion that comes through. Sometimes its a tad raw (just a tad) and heavy, and other times its polished and elevating.

And that’s probably why we turn to each other to edit one another’s work. We pick it apart and offer revisions or constructive criticism to hopefully churn out something meaningful.

Except here.
You’ve been warned.
(Though I reserve the right to edit anything after she reads it and calls me out for it.)

This is just my little place. My thought canvas. My little zone for posting just whatever is on my mind. I’ll try to be intentional, but like my dear wife I will write when time and circumstance, reflection and emotion pay a visit.

As an aside, I start this blog two years to the day of my dad’s passing. He was 79 and a half, and really died young for his drive and love for life. I think about him every day, trying to replace the feelings of missing him with the desire I hold to be like him in character, purpose and wisdom. And about this time of year, after the summer solstice, he would usually tease us kids with, “The days are getting shorter…

So while there is yet light to write by, I will make time to write on.

Thank you.

Joe Cranford
June 25, 2015


Photo: Aug. 10, 1991, Brewer, Maine – after our wedding.


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