I woke up this morning a bit flummoxed to realize that today marks my blog's ten year anniversary. How . . . how did that happen? The lovely thing is that the bemusement was almost immediately followed by a palpable thrill of wonder at the fact that I've been doing this thing—this thing that I have come to love, that has become an integral, limb-like part of me—for a decade. There are only a few other things I've been doing that long. I've been married to my husband for just a few years longer than that. I've been a mother for almost exactly two years more. In fact, ten years ago on this night I put my little boy (only had one then) down to bed after a satisfactory night of trick-or-treating, climbed into bed with my notebook, and Aaron sat down and started telling me about how he thought I should start a blog, how it would be a good place to . . . oh, you guys. Talking about this brings the emotions precariously close to the surface. He told me he thought it...