OK. SO I’m getting tired of reading these wonderful blogs and then going to my own site and finding I haven’t updated it for weeks. And then thinking, “but I really don’t have much to say,” or “wow, so much has happened and we’ve done so much I’ll never get all the stories and pictures posted” and just closing my browser window because there’s other things I should be doing.
No more.
I love to write and tell stories. Ask my daughter who makes up outlandish tales about her mother in a wedding dress, who goes out, gets dirty, changes her clothes, and then flies off like a bird into the big sky. I miss writing and I have no excuse for updating my blog except that I’m not very good at status updates (except on Facebook) and I typically will not write if I think what I have to say is inane or not well-crafted enough to be posted in the blogosphere. The irony is that writing is itself an act of discovery. So how can I discover anything about myself, my life, or my place in the world if I deny these writing opportunities?
Good question.
So I’ve decided to write more. Post more pictures here. And generally contemplate the world and tell my friends how I’ve been doing. Because over the last year or so I’ve been pretty bad about it.
The funny thing is that I never think any one really reads this blog (besides my Nana). But then I speak with friends or family and they tell me how much they enjoyed reading certain entires. At which point I blush and think “shit, I need to write more.”
So here I go.
