blogging

I must say, I started all this blogging business impulsively. So far I have been typing while terribly distracted and barely paying attention to what I have been saying. And yet I am thrilled to be doing it. I keep sorting through things in my mind and thinking, "ooh, I should post THAT on my blog" for all the world as if I have been doing this forever. Or as if I have any idea what I am doing. As if I even peruse a blog myself every now and again. (I may say, I do this rarely.) Or as if I have anything important to say. But I guess I feel I do. In my own rudimentary way.

My mother said tonight, "I guess I don't understand this whole blogging thing. How you write something and send it out into the universe--"

"Blogesphere," I said.

"--blogesphere, and expect people to read it?"

"But that's the very thing, the excitement of not knowing who will read it," I said. "After all, isn't all published writing the same way? You send it off and you don't know who will see it. Right?"

"I suppose," she said, sounding uncertain. Perhaps I was a bit too vigorous. My father often likes to quote Stephen Vincent Binet in that publishing a book of verse is like sending a rose petal into the Grand Canyon. Well, this is my rose petal. For now. Also, it will help me keep up with everyone while Ari and I make our mad dash through the major transitions of the upcoming year. He: starting day care, which entails moving from my tender mercies, such as they are, where most of life is molded to his rhythms, such as they are, soon to be jockeying with other children for attention and understanding and nap schedule, and being jostled past his own tenaciously social nature with overstimulation many hours of the day. And me? Starting a second year social work placement at a location I will not name in this context--probably won't be very different. That's okay. We will both adapt. But I won't have time much in the future for email.

Tonight the cicadas hum outside, a vigorous strumming for mates, and the ocean susurrates its own drowsy melody. It's time for bed.