Dear Lydia,

I'm a little embarrassed to tell you how much I appreciate your sharing life on Blossom Street with me. I'm a young, somewhat trendy, twenty-something, which surely means I should find your stories about knitting and people close to twice my age boring and unimportant. But visiting A Good Yarn and meeting all your customers and classmates makes me feel so connected to something. You've let me into your life and into your store, you've shared your friends and your town, and you've shown me that we're all connected even when we don't feel like it.

I don't knit or crochet, although I've tried to learn many times (I haven't found a lefty teacher yet), yet being at A Good Yarn is so calming; and in my profession(s), I can use all the calm and stress-reduction I can get. Working in the publishing industry and having a one-year-old makes social engagements and time for friends and time for myself pretty non-existent, so I'll take the girl-time in whatever form I can get it.

But more than that, it's comforting to hear about people's everyday struggles. I often get the feeling that I need to be the perfect wife, perfect mother, and perfect employee; but on a day like today, two cups of coffee down and still feeling like I need a nap (and a makeover), it feels impossible. And it's true. I can't be the perfect wife, or the perfect mother, or the perfect employee. I can try my hardest, do my best, and give it my all; but perfection--it's not in my DNA, as badly as I want it to be. We're not wired to be perfect human beings--maybe someday, but definitely not today.

Meeting you and the other ladies on Blossom Street reminds me that I am not going to be perfect, I probably won't even be close to it. But you've taught me I'm lucky to be here; Margret's taught me life could be worse; Alix has taught me that being unique to myself can be better than perfection; and Colette, she taught me that fear, while can be debilitating at times, is an incredible virtue.

The business on Blossom Street reason wakes me up. It makes me realize to slow down. To appreciate what I have. To let go of the stress on my shoulders. But it also reminds me that I can do what I set my mind to. That I can be the best person I can be. That I can constantly push myself. It seems weird, right? That you remind me to slow down yet keeping pushing at the same time. I can't explain it, but I guess just hearing what all you ladies go through reminds me 1) to love my family, to love my friends, and to appreciate what I have, and 2) that working hard pays off, that the support of family and friends will take me farther than I thought I'd ever be able to go, that while I'm not perfect I'm doing a pretty fine job at life.

See, none of you are perfect. You all make mistakes. Yet, life on Blossom Street is so appealing. It makes me realize that the grass isn't greener on the other side. And it makes me realize--there are probably people out there who are envious of my life. Mine! We're all different, we're all imperfect, and we're all living such wonderful stories.

So I'll sweat while I chase my son around, I won't do the dishes before I go to bed, and I probably won't finish working on the manuscript I need to; but there's always tomorrow to improve. For now, I'm going to enjoy what I have; I'm going to appreciate the laughing voices of my husband and son; I'm going to feel the love I have inside of me grown. Because that is what life is really about--the meaningful relationships.

Thanking you for the reminder,

NicholleLee.