When I tell friends that I started a blog, most respond with a nod as if to say, “of course you did. It was only a matter of time,” accompanied with something along the lines of “So, what are you going to blog about?” Well, dear readers, I would love to tell you what neat little pocket of the blogosphere I will fit in. Really, I’d love to. After reading for a while, maybe you could tell me. But if you know me, you will agree that I am quite the Jack of all trades, master of none. As a mother and wife, my roles and interests are always changing based on life’s happenings and I’m sure that will be reflected here. Through it all, I try to keep things light, humorous and fun. Otherwise I’d just sit on the couch and cry which is none of the aforementioned.
When we moved to the south in March 2010, the weather was perfect. Warm sunshine, light breezes and cool evenings. And then June hits and the sun becomes–
Hold that thought.
Hubs and I had to join forces to kill a rogue palmetto bug that was scampering across our living room floor. We’ve become quite the bug killing duo since moving here. When we lived up north (side note: “up north,” apparently, is a phrase only we transplant southerners use to refer to any state north of North Carolina), bugs are only found in the homes of hoarders, dirty college kids and the occasional farmer (but only because it hitchhiked in from the barn). Here, you learn quickly that living in the south means you will have bugs – regardless of how neat and tidy your home is kept. If you are like us and have lots of oak trees and live near the marsh, you might as well set up a little bug-sized doggy door and leave them little buggy treats to snack on.
It’s been two years and six months since I last tapped my fingers against a keyboard and produced any sort of intelligent, coherent document. That last time, in October 2009, I was a working mother of one with a pretty good grip on life. Now, after moving to the deep south and adding another sweet girl to our brood, I’ve realized it’s dangerous to get too comfortable and a tell-tale sign that things are about to get real interesting, y’all.
I’m a perfectionist, which I’m sure is why I have started and deleted no less than three blogs in the past 3 years. Is it common to delete, rewrite, delete, edit every sentence that is typed? I’m sure; writing is a muscle and Lord knows mine is quite atrophied. So bear with me as I retrain these muscles to focus, think and create.