Somehow two full years have gone somewhere, never to be seen again. I began this blog with good intentions and high hopes, then let it fade and die, like that plant on the back porch. There's no promise that this attempt at resurrection will succeed since it's the same ten fingers on the keyboard and the same mind -- two years older -- running the show.
I still consider myself upper middle aged and I'm still moving forward, looking backwards in my rowboat three mornings a week. We were engulfed by the smoke from the fires in California on Monday and I happened to have a camera with me at the lake and got the shot above.
Since my last entry on this page several things have changed. MaryAnn retired in August of '08 and I'm fond of saying that I now have adult supervision. The house is big enough for both of us to rattle around without colliding too often. My mother passed away about a year ago, following a blessedly short illness; she had the opportunity to see all four of her great-grandchildren before she left. I hope I'll be that lucky. I took care of her, and my dad, for many years so there's a bit of a vacuum now that they're both gone. I think of all sorts of things I meant to ask them and never got around to. That's a good reason to put my knowledge of the family and its history down in ink -- remember ink? -- so that when my kids and grandkids get curious someday they'll have a place to start.
The trick, I think, to keeping a blog is to resist the urge to make every entry weighty, wise and lyrical. I'm not playing to an audience of millions and I don't need to impress anyone with my wit and intellect, which seem to be in ever shorter supply. If I manage to hit a stride that's comfortable and visit the keyboard a few times a week, perhaps I'll make a dent in the gigabyte of space that Google provides me.
This is a start. Stay tuned.
