The reason I keep on writing and writing and documenting stuff.

So the evidence is right here in this notebook. I don't know where the notebook itself came from, but it is what is inside that counts. 

The notebook begins with a love letter. Maybe someday I'll type it all out, or see if my scanner can translate it. I can't do it justice, just summarizing it, so I won't. 

My father and his brother had the urge to document, as well. The evidence of that is in a book I put together for them years ago. 

In this notebook are all of what I call the furniture tales, which are stories my dad told from the viewpoint of the furniture. A table that he "rescued" from my aunt and refinished, the step stool he made in high school that spent years painted green until my father lovingly restored it. A milk stool that belonged to a friend. 

Also in the notebook are my Grandpa Linton's writings. He wrote stories, opinions, and some historical stuff thrown in. He actually was a published writer, he had a column in the local newspaper and was even published in the Good Ol Days magazine, although I have not been able to find a copy, since my grandma didn't approve of it. That's what my mom said anyway. 

So I guess I come by it naturally, since both my mom and dad and my Grandpa Linton and my Grandma Mills all wrote. I don't have much of my Grandma's, but I remember seeing it once when my uncle showed me a few things, but I don't know what happened to it. All my aunts and uncles are gone now, and possibly some of my cousins have something, I should ask, in these days of easy scanning and sending. 

And even if nobody passed it on to me, I would still write. I have destroyed most of what I have written, because periodically I go thorough it, and realize that I maybe don't want it public. 

The plan is to scan this stuff and put it in a google album, and send links to my cousins. Especially the album that my dad made of his siblings. But I have three lifetimes worth of projects I want to do....