 Sometimes you just need a little break. I've been away from the blog for a while, I know. Lost days are like candy pincered from a dish: first it's just the one, then there's that second, then another and another and soon enough nothing remains but an empty vessel and one humdinger of a sugar drop. The week I took off turned into six weeks off. My head's no more full of material, and I've been hauling around a bit of a funk. Thar's the proof in that pudding. I suspect you all know something about inertia: the old A body at rest will remain at rest until blah-de-blah. Earlier this month I did try to unloosen the necktie of it—the inertia, that is—only to discover that the website gods had reconfigured the toolbox I use to create my blog, a flummoxment akin to switching oven cooking temps from Fahrenheit to Centigrade. My autopilot thusly disabled, I did the only thing that made any possible sense—I bolted. I clicked off the blog and kept the CLOSED sign in the door. But sometime in the past week I sucked down a big breath (Oxygenate is my new motto), pulled up my big girl underpants and clicked back on. And, well, here I am again. (It didn't hurt that my absence had drawn more than a few complaints. Thank you, Loyalists!) I can't say I won't get caught in a drift again. What I can say is that it's good to be back.
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1 Comment
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Nancy Carol Moody
I'm a poet and a letter-writer. Yup, that kind. The kind who uses pens and paper and actual stamps. The kind who will leave the house with nothing on the agenda but to get to the mailbox before the scheduled pick-up time. The kind who understands that technology is a wondrous thing, but nothing quite beats finding a real letter with a real stamp on it amid the credit card solicitations, pizza coupons and seminar catalogs. 
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