Hard To Believe

Just for the heck of it, and because I am completely out of blog fodder today, I took a look back at the entry for December 31, 2010.  It was twenty degrees that morning.  Seventy degrees at five-thirty today, heading for ninety-eight.  It's hard to remember what that cold feels like, and hard to believe I've been writing daily entries for going on four years.

There are days when ideas crowd my mind, pushing and shoving to come out first.  I wake up "writing" whatever topic was perking away while I slept.  I put notes on the erase board in the kitchen or scraps of paper for future entries.  I look, really look, at everything that happens during the day and at the animals who share my life, the beauty of a bird or sunrise, thinking about a possible mini-essay for the blog.  It's so easy to drift through the days and not pay attention.  This activity gives a focus to my life.

And then there are days like yesterday when absolutely nothing happened.  The goats came in orderly fashion, squirrels and mice did nothing out of the ordinary, it was too hot to do much in the house.  Bess and the cats slept all day and I napped off and on.  Not much blog fodder there.

When all else fails, I can always rely on Nature.  Putting the kids to bed last night, the sunset caught my attention.  The sky that had been cloudless all day was filling with swirls and puffs, some with streaks of rain that would never reach the ground.

Even the do-nothing days are good days.  (But twenty degrees sounds better this morning; remind me of this when I'm complaining of the cold in a couple of months.)