As a child, I never aspired to becoming a clown. For children, it isn't a life goal like fireman or teacher because they often do not see clowns or other costumed characters as 'real' people. This surprises me since children typically live out their days in a fantasy of one sort or another. It seems the caped, tutu-wearing masses could easily slip into the role of clown if they so desired. But how many children see their parents as clowns? How many have wacky clothes, painted faces, and balloon-twisting skills modeled to them?The comments and questions I get are priceless. "Are you a real clown?" "Can I take a picture with you?" Usually adults ask that. "You are the coolest person I've ever seen at IKEA." Ok, yes, I sometimes shop as Miss Pickles, but I'll discuss those adventures in a future blog. Suffice it to say, I enjoy interacting with children (and adults) as Miss Pickles because, even after 20 years of clowning, I can never predict what someone's going to say to me. It's kind of awesome.
All that to say, moving to Georgia, while an adjustment, has kept me busier than Miss Pickles has ever been. The location, great weather, and beautiful venues offer me more opportunities than imaginable. So, after nine months here, I believe I can finally call Georgia home. Thanks for the grand welcome, y'all!
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