Two Years

Officially today (April 14th) I've been blogging for two years.  In some ways I'm amazed that I am still doing this and in others I can't imagine not doing so.

I've been writing for a long time.  Somewhere, buried deep in the bowels of my damp basement is a storage container full of notebooks.  I started keeping a notebook sometime after third grade when Mrs. Williams (one of the best teachers I ever had) read "The Long Secret" by Louise Fitzhugh to the class.  ("The Long Secret" was a sequel of sorts of her earlier book, "Harriet The Spy."  I read that one later.  Mrs. Williams and the books she read aloud to us some afternoons made such an impression on me that nearly 40 years later I can still recall most of them:  "Flight of the Doves," "Don't Take Teddy," "The Lion, the Witch and The Wardrobe," "The Prince And The Pauper.").  These notebooks started out as pseudo-diaries.  Then they evolved into pages and pages of bad fan fiction.  (I believe the first real "fan" fiction I wrote was a complete and utter rip off of "Star Wars" -- I just regurgitated the whole tale again, but this time included a love interest for Luke Skywalker, with the incredibly inventive name of Mary.)

So I've kept writing on and off for many years.  I tried to join the digital age of blogging back in the late 1990s, but didn't "get" it.  I tried to keep an on line diary, but it just seemed to be boring. (Hmmm..)  Most of my writing in the 2000s consisted of detailed Disney Trip reports posted on a variety of bulletin boards.  I don't know how interesting those have been for others, but they have certainly kept my memories alive. (I only wish I had started earlier since I don't have much of a record of our honeymoon trip or our first anniversary.  Furthermore, I didn't keep records of other trips that we took and I DO regret not writing more.)

When my son was born, I kept a detailed diary/notebook.  With all the craziness and sleeplessness, I'm so glad I did.  Without writing, I would have only hazy memories.  I probably should have kept it up more. (I only did it for a year.)

Then we come to 2012 when my husband took me to see Michael Nesmith in concert.   It was a great concert and brought back memories of when I had seen him previously, when I didn't know my husband, but he had been in attendance at the same venue.  I wanted to write about the experience.  So I did.  But what to do with it?  And hence this blog was born.

Once started, I've committed to it.  Some posts may be long, but most are short.  I've got no specific format or platform.  Whatever pops into mind is what comes out of my fingers and onto the "page."  I don't have a specific number of posts for each month or have a commitment to a day to post.  I just do it.  (Although over time it seems that for the most part I post 8 times a month; although not necessarily two times a week.)

It's nice to see that someone out there is actually reading this.  (That's the frustrated author inside of me.)  But to be honest, I write because I need to.  It's selfish self-expression.  It's nice,  however, to know that there is someone (or are some people) who happen upon this page, read and hopefully like what I've ruminated on.

So if you have enjoyed this boring blog in the past, I hope you will continue to come back (share with your friends!) and read.  I'll be here.