The picture:
I am at the computer, having written my second post in Word. I go to cut and paste it into this space, but it comes out gobbledygook. I find out I can post directly from Word if I register, but nothing I do allows that to happen. I do not post for two weeks (or has it been more?)
The stories:
I am at the computer
My second post
I am at the computer again. This takes some doing, as I am easily intimidated by unexpected glitches. If I have tried and failed to fix my problem, the frustration makes me hot flash violently. Like now, I do not have a cursor, and that is confusing. I don't see where I am, ...wow, suddenly I have my cursor back, and I feel like I'm back on Terra Firma. Does anyone else lose theirs when writing a post?
My second post is really my third. Several years ago I decided to start a blog when I moved to Peru with P. I posted a picture, a very brief and stilted bit of description, and never posted again. I can't accept that there was nothing to write about, and my intentions were sound: I felt if I blogged I would more fully savour my new life over there. I did savour it , and allowed it to wash over me and insinuate it into my pores. I learned the language, how to cook like a Peruvian, acquired my dog Prisca, made friends, and sometimes felt just a little lost and intimidated. On those days I didn't even think of writing, and on the good days I didn't even think of writing.
I am at the computer again. The thousand stories attached to each picture must be their own reason for for being written about. Conquering my reticence is part of the reason for coming back to the blogosphere. Somewhere inside lurks a little bit of a writer, whose mental jabbering while doing something or nothing at times contains the grain of an idea worth sharing. When my children were watching Sesame Street many years ago, I walked into the living room in time to see a sketch about a Mom who practiced playing the piano, painted the living-room walls, cooked something marvelous and built an engine, I think. I was shocked and charmed, because except for building the engine it was exactly the kind of day I was having! What is the use of being a renaissance person if you can't share the excitement when the multiple dimensions of your life collide and collude.
