Time flies. Today is September 13, 2014. Already! We’re not quite two weeks into the month, but Labor Day might as
well have been months ago instead of just twelve days.
What is that?
Is it age? Is it the way we live these days? Is it all the electronic wizardry we’re beholden to that makes everything instantaneous and time fly? Whatever it is, I really hate it.
Twelve months, 365 days, 46 posts and 26,144 words later, I’m still here. Blogging activated my previously sluggish creative juices so that ideas tumble around in my head like clothes in the washer, while bad ideas still clonk annoyingly as if they were coins in the dryer.
On this date a year ago, I clicked “publish” and sent my very first post, “We’ve arrived and to prove it, we’re here” out there, into the great wherever! My heart pounded and I was so light-headed I thought I would faint. Terrifying and satisfying, at the same time.
A couple weeks later I was almost blasé about the publishing process. And, if you had peeked in my window on October 6 you would have seen me doing the happy dance because my seventh post, “Nasturtiums askance,” was accepted to the Erma Bombeck Workshop site. Since then ten more have been published there.
Last month, I jumped into the deep end of the pond and started another blog, “Dementia isn’t funny.”
What was I thinking?
Are you thinking, La-dee-whoopin’-dah? Just who does she think she is anyway? Lots of people, millions of people, write blogs, multiple blogs, and they have a lot more followers than she does.
Well, fifty-three years before I was born, Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) summed me up in eight lines and forty-two words, in what has always been one of my very favorite poems. This is who I am:
I’m nobody! Who are you?
Are you — nobody, too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise — you know!