If a tree

I got the shock of my life the other day.

Oh heck, I exaggerate.

I went to a knitting retreat this past weekend and heard from a friend there that she had read something on my blog. This came as something of a surprise. I had always assumed that my previous writings were going into space like radio broadcasts from the 1930s, never perishing but never to be observed again.

Blogs are, in my experience, a lot like valedictory addresses. It is difficult to write them without making them, in the end, all about oneself. Or at least it seems to be so these days. There was a day, real or imagined, when our mothers taught us not to turn the conversation to ourselves, or at least not to go on and on about this ultimately (to most people other than the speaker) uninteresting subject.

That day, I fear, has largely receded. In this blog as in so many others.

Wherefore, thank you Ann, for letting me know that someone has reached out into the cosmic recesses and read something of mine. It may, just possibly, give me the impetus to draw up to my keyboard and write again.