I was recently reminded that I have not been posting here. Okay, I haven’t been posting anywhere other than twitter as of late, really. I have a woefully neglected family blog, a flickr account that I’m updating in three month chunks, an etsy shop and associated website and another new endeavour. No, I can no longer count the days when I posted poetry or more spiritual thoughts online as those days seem long gone.
Yet I have been writing. I carry a journal with me nearly everywhere I go and I write in it regularly. I have two additional journals at home. They simply never makes the leap from page to pixels.
And, the stock response: I’ve been busy.
Yeah, I know. Who hasn’t??
There have been birthday parties, the never-ending supply of visitors, the loss of our dear old dog and, now, the looming promise of seasonal festivities, final papers, weekend courses and a kid who is becoming fanatical about holiday crafts. So, I journal. And I tweet. Getting my posts down to 65 characters or less has become my state of blogging and, while there is a great deal to be said for brevity, it doesn’t always cut it.
So where do I even start to cover the last … 7??!! months?
- the epic birthday party that was spectacular and will never be repeated
- the Year of No Vacations
- the loss of our dog, after we finally acknowledged that there was nothing more we could do for him
- the day care demographic shift
- the opportunities afforded a four year old
- … and I could go on
But I won’t here. I can’t even begin to begin. I will another day.
Because I like this format, really I do. Blogging has its place, for me. And it’s so much more legible than any of my journals.