Hi there, come on in.

I used to write that alot, but I haven't in a very long time. It was an opening line, a greeting meant to welcome anyone who wandered into my little space for awhile. I tried to create a sort of atmosphere for conversation, something to set the tone for a relaxing evening after a long and busy day. Most of the time, though, I just meandered my way through some arbitrary thoughts until I wound up with a question. What does your avatar mean? What's your favorite recipe? Where were you ... well, you get the drift. I wanted to open my virtual door to people I'd never meet, to offer them a seat on the sofa (I once asked if it was a sofa or a couch, we decided on sofa for the comfort value), or to throw a pillow on the floor and settle in. A snack from the frig with a scary green glow 'cause I rarely cleaned it out. A warning that the snoring dog in the ugly blue chair would take your lap if you took her seat. A few laughs at my expense whenever possible. And for a brief moment, a magical puff of time, it happened.

There was only one house rule, and it was only stated once. No politics allowed. Did I mention that the place was in TPMCafe town? More of a subdivision, really. Anyway, folks started dropping by with umbrellas on rainy nights, fresh fruit and veggie plates, ideas about all kinds of things, and music to play on the old stereo. All the heated arguments they'd been in around the neighborhood faded, replaced by a piece of pie. Or a needed glass of wine. Sometimes visitors would just hang out and listen, not in the mood to join in the fray. No matter, everyone was welcome. And I really, really hope there was never a doubt about that.

As I sit here now, I'm reminded of how much those days meant to me. I was in the midst of some pretty big upheavals, and I suppose I needed a bubble. It was my first foray into the blogging world ... so as soft spots go it was good and squishy. We were all told to save our posts before Cafe town faded to black, but I chose not to. I was always clear that I didn't want "rec's", because they would cause the conversation that had organically ended to artificially remain. That's the same reason I let them all go. They were what they were, and that was more than enough.

It's raining today. My sneakers are wet from this stroll down memory lane, so it's time to let them dry by the door. Thanks for listening.