For those who don't know me, but who drop in from time to time, it's a place of pretty pictures and a touch of voyeurism in to the days of someone they might never come across in their real lives.
For my blog friends - a merry band of supporters, it is again a stopping place; somewhere to check in and chew the cud. To agree or to disagree with whatever opinion I am expressing that day. The diversity and range of this group of friends makes me smile; an online family of wisdom.
It's a place for me to write. I was asked recently what my hobbies were and I struggled to answer. I live day to day being a mother; being a wife, keeping house, working in my job (although less of that lately). I spend my time preparing and wiping and clearing and planning. And thinking. I am not sure I even have a hobby? Finally I said that writing was my hobby. As I am sure any bone fide writer will tell you, it is not that one chooses to write, it is that one is compelled to write. For years I kept diaries and this is the same. Am I compelled to write? Well, no not all the time, but I must admit that by writing here I have found solace and clarity. Often during my day, things will occur to me and I want to write them down. There is something wonderfully freeing about pressing 'publish' and filling the void with thoughts.
The kindness of strangers has staggered me. Anonymous comments recommending books or articles that might interest me. Readers who have gone out their way. Unsolicited kind emails from other countries. Gifts that arrive in the post, from Canada or America or nearer to home; London.
I should be more bold with my blog - I should be proud of it and not fear that people won't 'get it'. It has brought me so much, I can't begin to tell you.
So after two years, here's to plenty more time, more words, more pretty pictures, more comments, more friends....
|via pretty little flower|