This morning as I was in the shower, an idea hit me. Write my truth. I’ve blogged before, and have felt lots of pressure to come up with ideas for content and such. That’s what has kept me from being consistent. When my friend Katie brought up blogging again at breakfast on Friday, I heard the suggestion and filed it. Apparently, my brain was chugging on the idea in the background.
Write my truth. Write from my eyes. How have I experienced the world?
I feel like family fables were told often growing up. Epic tales of a family member’s adventure, that one time when dad played sports, or when grandpa flew jets. That doesn’t seem to come up much these days. So, I’ve decided to bring back the fables…but with a twist. My hope is to post short stories of how I saw the world or experienced an event. Realizations of how I’m wired or a hilarious moment experienced with people I love. It’s going to be an adventure. Probably not neat or tidy, but hopefully entertaining enough.
Let us begin.
Story 1 – Bloodborne Organization.
My favorite toy growing up was by far my collection of Lego items. I don’t quite remember how I ended up starting my collection, but I do remember getting a box from church friends who were moving. That was the moment things changed. I went from a manageable grouping of Lego pieces to having multiple large, shallow Tupperware containers full of them. The good news: I had a lot of Legos. The bad news: I couldn’t stand the sound.
Enter the Bork organization gene.
Organization is in my blood. If you have ever visited the Bork house and had the privilege of touring my dad’s workshop, you know that I see organization as a hallowed art, and I inherited it from my father.
When I decided to take my Lego collection from a consistent earache to organized paradise, my dad was fully on board. I used some money I’d earned watching the neighbor’s dog to purchase a 6 drawer rolling cart. Dad helped me outfit each drawer with dividers. Then the organization began. Next thing I knew, I needed another cart. It too was outfitted with custom designed dividers. I immersed myself in categorizing, sorting, and filing all of the pieces in my care.
(The nerd moment of this is that I loved the organizing as much or more than building.)
At one point, I had a full-blown city in the corner of the basement that my parents graciously allowed me to take over. I realized that I had so many people in my little metropolis that I needed to know who each of them is. What did I do? Well, as every normal kid (ok…I know it isn’t normal) would do, I made a spreadsheet of all of my people, printed it out, and mounted it on a 2’x2′ piece of cardboard. I could identify any minifig simply by their clothing and tell you their name and their profession. And of course…everyone was different and unique. (Because after all…this is a normal thing to do.)