I’ve had a busy couple of weeks…months. My precious best friend Tillie died (my toy Maltese), and that slowed me down for a bit. Then I had to make an urgent trip out of state to update arrangements concerning our son Dalton, and that took research, and stamina, and lots more smartz than I seem to have lately. I’ll need some prayer on that one.
But for the rest of the time, other than escorting a valued friend (I guess all friends are valued, aren’t they?) to her doctor and chemo appointments, I’ve devoted myself to some serious writing. And what was once a bit of a chore…well, let me explain it this way.
It’s like ice cream. I want some. I LOVE it. But it seems that it’s a forbidden pleasure, that I can only indulge in it every once in awhile. And that’s the way I’ve treated my writing for quite a few years now. There are times it seems to “bust loose” and I end up writing all night, or all weekend, but I’ve tried to keep a lid on it. And recently I woke up and realized that I’m withholding the biggest joy, the thing that drives me, and I should just settle down and just write.
And that’s when I made too much noise and that little demon that sits on my shoulder woke up and started in on me again, He said that little of what I write is of value to anyone but me and my loyal friends who will continue to pat me on the back and tell me I’m “really good.”
So, dear readers, if you enjoy reading my ramblings I would love to hear from you. I’ve written two chapters of a book about growing up in Kentucky and all the perils and pickles we managed to get into. Into which we managed to get? No. The trouble we enjoyed causin’. And I’m endeavoring to decide it’s worth pursuing.
And I intend to ramp up this little blog again and pepper it with stories on a regular basis.
Let me hear from you. And enjoy this photo of the BOY, our Dalton! (He wanted the camera, you’ve gotta be quick around him)
Take care, and always remember Whose you are.