Why "blog"?
I am really liking this blogging thing. I was wondering the other day, why is it called a blog? What a stupid word. Well, I think it is a conjugation of "web" and "log," as in a captain's log... a journal of the day's events. Web log. Say it fast and you get "blog." That's the theory. I'm probably full of crap. I usually am.
A couple people have asked me how I find the time to write, but the truth is, this is nothing new for me. I have always kept a journal or wrote stories or jotted down random thoughts for as long as I can remember. I have tablet upon tablet of my writings in my office. It is just that now, I keep it on the internet and share it with whoever wants to read it. I love to write, just like some people love to fish or quilt or bowl or play darts or whatever. The only problem is that writing doesn't burn many calories, but it keeps my brain active. I'm always thinking, ya know.
I am sure I get my love of writing from my dad. He loved to write, too. In fact, after my mom died, Dad and I would exchange letters on a weekly basis. If we had e-mail back then, we probably would have e-mailed each other every day. But I remember I always found myself looking forward to Dad's letter each week, and it always showed up on Wednesday or Thursday. I would go to the mailbox, and there was a letter addressed to me in Dad's careful, neat penmanship. Looking back on it now, sharing all those letters with my father was one of the greatest things I ever did. I kept them all and I have them in a three-ringed binder within plastic protective sheets (as well as letters from Mom as well). If the house ever burned down, I would get my wife, child and my two dogs out... and Mom and Dad's letters. Everything else is replaceable, including pictures, because many of them are on Shutterfly.com (modern technology can be great!).
The greatest thing about these letters is that I can read them at anytime and "hear" my dad's or mom's voice again. It is strange how the brain can work, but when I read their letters, it is almost like a tape recorder playing back in my mind. I haven't heard my mom's voice since 1990, but when I read her handwriting, I can hear her voice. There is a quote that I love: "Writing is the window to one's soul." I think that is true on more than one level.
I saw Dan Minor's '33 Ford Coupe on the Speed channel last night, that was pretty cool. It sold for $41,000! Geez Dan, guess who is buying the keg at Farm Fest this year? Ha!
I talked to Brian last night for the first time in months. The Budahn's are flying to Florida tomorrow for a Disney cruise and vacation. They are leaving at the perfect time, because baby it's cold outside! Beth's parents are returning from Arizona in the morning. My goodness, that's going to be a shock... going from 65 degree weather to this crap that we have. It is supposed to get intensely cold this weekend. It is 7 degrees below zero right now and it is not even 6 p.m. I think you could call this the "dog days" of winter.
Tonight is work day #5 of 7... but who is counting? I find that writing here takes me out of the "black cloud" that I encounter during my week of work. I think working night shift can do that to you, especially during the winter when the days are so short and nights are so long. I read Stacy's, Heidi's and Kathy's blog today too. I really enjoy "stopping in" to see how everyone is doing.
The house is trashed. Ava has discovered the art of making tents (a quilt thrown over a couple chairs). It is a never-ending adventure.
Lewie's RV called today and said my camper is finished. They said the new roof looks great and everything works perfectly. Guess we'll find out next week when I go pick it up.
Thanks for stopping by.
A couple people have asked me how I find the time to write, but the truth is, this is nothing new for me. I have always kept a journal or wrote stories or jotted down random thoughts for as long as I can remember. I have tablet upon tablet of my writings in my office. It is just that now, I keep it on the internet and share it with whoever wants to read it. I love to write, just like some people love to fish or quilt or bowl or play darts or whatever. The only problem is that writing doesn't burn many calories, but it keeps my brain active. I'm always thinking, ya know.
I am sure I get my love of writing from my dad. He loved to write, too. In fact, after my mom died, Dad and I would exchange letters on a weekly basis. If we had e-mail back then, we probably would have e-mailed each other every day. But I remember I always found myself looking forward to Dad's letter each week, and it always showed up on Wednesday or Thursday. I would go to the mailbox, and there was a letter addressed to me in Dad's careful, neat penmanship. Looking back on it now, sharing all those letters with my father was one of the greatest things I ever did. I kept them all and I have them in a three-ringed binder within plastic protective sheets (as well as letters from Mom as well). If the house ever burned down, I would get my wife, child and my two dogs out... and Mom and Dad's letters. Everything else is replaceable, including pictures, because many of them are on Shutterfly.com (modern technology can be great!).
The greatest thing about these letters is that I can read them at anytime and "hear" my dad's or mom's voice again. It is strange how the brain can work, but when I read their letters, it is almost like a tape recorder playing back in my mind. I haven't heard my mom's voice since 1990, but when I read her handwriting, I can hear her voice. There is a quote that I love: "Writing is the window to one's soul." I think that is true on more than one level.
I saw Dan Minor's '33 Ford Coupe on the Speed channel last night, that was pretty cool. It sold for $41,000! Geez Dan, guess who is buying the keg at Farm Fest this year? Ha!
I talked to Brian last night for the first time in months. The Budahn's are flying to Florida tomorrow for a Disney cruise and vacation. They are leaving at the perfect time, because baby it's cold outside! Beth's parents are returning from Arizona in the morning. My goodness, that's going to be a shock... going from 65 degree weather to this crap that we have. It is supposed to get intensely cold this weekend. It is 7 degrees below zero right now and it is not even 6 p.m. I think you could call this the "dog days" of winter.
Tonight is work day #5 of 7... but who is counting? I find that writing here takes me out of the "black cloud" that I encounter during my week of work. I think working night shift can do that to you, especially during the winter when the days are so short and nights are so long. I read Stacy's, Heidi's and Kathy's blog today too. I really enjoy "stopping in" to see how everyone is doing.
The house is trashed. Ava has discovered the art of making tents (a quilt thrown over a couple chairs). It is a never-ending adventure.
Lewie's RV called today and said my camper is finished. They said the new roof looks great and everything works perfectly. Guess we'll find out next week when I go pick it up.
Thanks for stopping by.
