I’ve been neglecting my blog. Most of my conversations happen now on Facebook, in staccato bursts of thinking. I hit my opinions in the little box and then I’m off to like this cat or that photo of a church sign. It’s how I interact now online and I’m starting to feel the itch of longer things to say. I find myself thinking long form again, now that my brain is growing back (thank you, iron) and somehow the little box just isn’t enough. Yet I doubt anyone is left who reads these long-dormant pages. Oh well. I do this for me. That’s the thing we say…”I do this for me.” But it isn’t strictly true. I don’t do it just for me. I do it to reach out, to connect, to see if what I do for me matches what you do for you.
I used to play poker and I played it very well. I quit when I realised that who I was when I played poker was not who I should be. That person is calculating and arrogant and more than a little unkind. She is not allowed out. But blogging reminds me of a conversational poker or perhaps a conversational game of slapjack. I put all my thoughts out there like a card and someone else lays theirs on top.
If that’s the case than this post is a three of clubs. Nothing special. No face card wisdom or power…just a card. A regular card like the regular maundering thoughts.
During the worst of the anemia time leaked around me like a puddle in which I congealed, unable to gather myself or order the minutes that pooled around me and soaked into the carpet. As I recover I again have time in measurable units which I can carve up into bits of doing. I’m sewing again. I’m writing again. I’m actually recording videos of my cross-stitch and posting those to YouTube. It’s a strange thing, but it makes me feel like I’m part of a world-wide crafting circle. I enjoy the feeling.
I just realised that this quick page doesn’t show me how many words I’ve written while I’m writing so I have no idea if I’ve overstayed my welcome. So I guess I’ll conclude here. Thank you for reading.
Just Another Pretty Farce 