Saturdays are usually the day I make sure I have read your blog and your blog and your blog and your blog.
Not to miss any blog-reading which may have escaped attention during the busy week.
I used to read every blog on my blog roll.
Now there only seems time or inclination to read the blogs of those who have commented on Lake Superior Spirit.
“How many blogs do you read?” my friend, Amy, from Illinois, recently asked.
“About twenty to thirty bloggers,” I replied. (Or that’s what I should have replied–who knows what response actually happened?)
Quitting Facebook about a month ago was the best thing that’s happened in this life, let me tell you. Do you know that relieved and peaceful feeling you get when you simplify your life, when you throw out or recycle unwanted or no-longer-needed items?
Yes. That’s what I feel. Pure relief. (OK, OK, I won’t keep talking about this every sixth blog for the rest of the year, but just wanted to express it yet again.) There is nothing I miss about the Book of Faces.
Am now re-establishing who is really truly available and accompanying and being present in this life–and to whom I can be truly available and accompany and be present with. (Sorry, Mom, didn’t mean to end that sentence with a preposition, but sometimes you need to dangle an idea, don’t you?)
It’s funny, too, after I quit the Face Place, my blog visitors increased. If people want to know whaz happenin’ in the Little House in the Big Woods, they know where to find it.
OK, what else do you want to know in a Mish-Mash blog? The weather?
It is 11 degrees outside. That is -11.66666666, dear Canadians and other Celsius readers. In other words, it’s frigid. OK, it’s not -20 below frigid, but it’s still darn cold.
My hands and feet always seem to be icy. Anyone else have extremity challenges when the temps drop?
Have done the Sunrise Salutation in Yoga this morning, although it’s unclear whether the sun will rise today. OK, it will rise, but will we see it?
I am thinking–besides reading blogs and writing this rambling top-of-the-mind spur-of-the-moment blog–and, oh yes, receipting taxes for my job, and, oh yes, writing Christmas cards to friends and family (bloggers, your last cards went out yesterday)–that a brisk walk might be in order. When it warms up a little.
You want to know something funny? My son is in Texas visiting friends for the weekend. His first visit to the Lone Star State since you-know-when. (See yesterday’s blog and read to the end if you don’t know what I’m talking about.) Isn’t it strange that I published that blog about Texas on the same day that he flew to Texas? I don’t think I consciously planned this.
Yes, Kathy, it’s a strange synchronicity indeed.
Barry’s not going to believe I wrote a blog when he returns to the house. He’s out in the garage tinkering on his boat motor.
“You wrote another blog?” he’ll ask, incredulous.
OK, he won’t be incredulous. He’ll probably be amused. He likes this blog as much as I do, I swear it. He read the Texas blog six times, I swear it. He was impressed that I remembered at least two things that he had forgotten. (He remembered 16 things that I had forgotten.)
My daughter called last night.
“I do NOT need to know about your sex life in your memoirs,” she teased. (I think she teased.)
Sex life? Who wrote about her sex life?
Excuse me, I forgot I was telling you the weather report here in Lake Superior land. No snow expected until next Tuesday. We have–gosh, how much do we have on the ground?–maybe a few inches of the white stuff?
I was calmly eating a breakfast bowl of quinoa with tasteless blackberries and a hard green pear, when the urge to blog grew so fierce within that I rushed to the computer and allowed the typing fingers to have their way.
May your weekend be filled with pre-holiday cheer. May your temperature warm to more than 11 degrees. May you address your Christmas cards. May you see the sun. May you blog your heart out, or read the blogs of fellow hearts.
May you experience the ordinary movements of your day as precious and sacred beyond imagination… May your day contain everything, simply everything.