“Post first blog post” has been high on my to-do list for quite a few days now. So yesterday I decided to post. I took some pictures, wrote the text, but when it came to putting the two together and putting them on the internet I was at a loss. I tinkered with it a bit, slowly figuring out how everything worked, but I eventually became tired and fed up with my unfortunate post and quit for the day. By nature I am a writer, not a photographer. I do plan to put those pictures up eventually, but for now you must be content with words.
Reading is my first love, but I love to write. I go through different phases where sometimes all I want to do is write and others all I want to do is read. And whichever one I’m currently obsessed with the other one more often than not suffers neglect.
I once asked my mom, another fellow writer, why I should write. The world is already full of so many great books, many of which reside in my house, that no one can possibly read everything! When asked this, she wisely and truthfully answered, “Because a writer can’t not write. They have to write.” It’s true. Sometimes it’s a burden and I feel compelled to write in my journal or work on a novel when I really don’t want to. It becomes an unpleasant chore. But other times it gives me more joy than anything else on this earth.
Lately this month I’ve been having a difficult time reading. I would pick up a book and just couldn’t get into it, or I never had time to sit down and immerse myself in the pages. But now that the hustle and bustle of the Christmas season has stopped (or at least lulled) all I want to do is read! I am currently re-reading “Knights Acre” by Norah Lofts, one of my favorite authors.
Outside, fluffy white clouds are tempting us with the possibility of snowfall. My prayers for a white Christmas were not fulfilled, but that did not dampen any spirits. It rarely snows here in December anyway, and we can still hope for snow at New Years.
Write first blog post: check. Next on my list: learn to post pictures.
