"One day in retrospect the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful."– Sigmund Freud

Looking back thusfar, I can buy that. The only unadorned stories I tell are those of triumphant journeys back from terrible places, snapshots seared into memory by the flashbulb of intensity. The images I rotate on my brain's screensaver are memories of times when all "we" had was each other and the sweetest moments were tucked away innocently between the bookends of obligation.

I'm kind of hungry right now, and, as Delta pointed out just now, I am not a normal AM blogger, so all I can equate it to to is a bowl of raisin bran. I love raisin bran, all of it, but it's the raisins that make me keep eating.