Thursday, August 23, 2007

O Blogger, Where Art Thou?

Hey there! I'm not dead. I hope you find that good news.

I cannot believe how long it's been since I've posted a peep on here. Sorry to any and all who may have checked in occasionally.

For all of you who have more than one child and manage to post with some sort of regularity, I doff my cap to you (figuratively, of course). I nanny a wee one part-time (along with my rambunctious four-year-old), and can barely wrangle a moment to eat lunch, let alone write out anything coherent. So kudos to all the moms and dads who valiantly keep the blogging sphere spinning 'round.

I have the next two days off, so, hopefully I can dump out some of the swirling thoughts that completely absorb my shower-time and right-before-nodding-of-to-sleep time onto this keyboard and rid myself of them forever.

Blessings to all!


vermonster said...


O dear bloggeress, how I have missed thee. I sashay to my computer daily, with eagerness, click on my bookmark for Adorable Trivialities and wait with great anticipation for the green bar to fill in, all the while wondering what tasty little missives will greet me today.
At last, the placid peach and grey screen emerges...and "Summer Reading" appears. My spirits are deflated but I remind myself that good thing come to she who waits.

And here's what I have learned: it is that the authoress of this blog is like a reservoir that requires time to fill and once filled to the brim, the most amazing things flow out of it.
So take your time, dear bloggeress, I will gladly wait to be drenched by your gifted writings.

Arielle said...

*chuckles* It would seem that your thoughts are still swirling somewhere other than your blog. Glad to see a hint of activity, though!

Justine said...

LOL! Yes, my two days off turned into one when I was asked to nanny an extra day last week.

Thoughts still swirling -- keyboard still cobwebbed -- blog still woefully neglected.

But, with glorious summer days spent on hikes to creeks with natural waterslides and at lakes with clear, blue water, and a beautiful, curious four-year-old and beautiful, smiley ten-month old to share those things with, I cannot complain.

Ah, ambitions . . . ambitions . . . writing ambitions . . .
Man's reach must exceed his grasp -- else what is heaven for?

(Or however that old saw goes!)