Just over a year ago, I asked some friends and family members, "If I wrote a blog, would you read it?" Their responses were all positive, so a year ago today, I sat down at the computer and wrote my first blog post.When I started, I was writing every day. My stats were dismal; no matter how many people said they had read it, I was seeing totals of three people reading my stuff. It was pretty rough. I also had to pull back and give myself permission to not write every day. What was the point if it became a chore, after all? Trent would tell me not to look at the numbers, because I wasn't writing for the numbers, I was writing for myself.
Then one day, something surprising happened. There was a comment on my blog from someone I didn't know. Someone from Canada, no less! I'm not saying that Canada was the most exotic location in which I had readers. I do have relatives in Hungary that read my work. I have no idea how she discovered my ravings, but I was glad that she did. After I signed up for Google+, I noticed that there was an option to share my blog posts. Should I, I wondered? Well, I decided to go for it. I found that there are some people out there in the great data-beyond that enjoyed my writing, they just needed to know I was doing it. I hesitated to tell you that part; I don't want you to think I joined G+ to increase my blog readership. I didn't. I took a look at this amazing and varied meeting place and decided I just had to belong. Adding links to my blog posts after being there a while was just a bonus.
So a year has passed since I began writing these little bits of my thoughts, experiences, opinions, and moments both happy and sad. This is my 145th post, which averages out to one post every two and a half days, which sort of makes me feel like a slacker. During the past fiscal year, Trent had two surgeries, one of which was a kidney transplant. I got bifocals, which has been interesting, to say the least. Our car broke down and was not repairable. Much worse than that, we had to say goodbye to the most precious thing in our lives, our dog Paris. We still miss her, and probably always will. Two people I know have given birth to lovely baby girls, both in December. We traveled with friends to Disney World. My friend's son died, and her third grandchild was born the same day. And we had to say farewell to our dog-friend Bowie.
Even while there were tons of things going on, I kept writing. I started carrying little notepads with me so that I could write down ideas. Sometimes they were for titles, sometimes content. Heaven knows how many more posts I'd have at this point if I could remember all of the brilliant ideas I lost track of. I'm glad I started writing, and I am going to continue. Trent was right; although I always hope that someone might laugh or think or even cry because of what I write, I am also doing it for me. Not in a selfish way; if so, it would be called a journal, not a blog. It has given me great pleasure, and sometimes catharsis, to be able to share these vignettes with others. Sure, it might be fun to have a best-selling book and have to struggle with who would portray me in the movie based on my ravings. But right now, I am happy with what I have. It seems to be working for me.
I don't know how long I will want to do this, but I haven't lost my desire to write. So stick with me, please. We have many miles left to travel together.