HANGIN' IN THERE . . .

Yesterday at work, I was talking to a couple of trainee-tutors (who are currently taking the class to become tutors). They shadow/observe us for a week or two and then slowly begin taking over some of the tutoring, while being watched and evaluated. It is a helpful process, (to see an experienced tutor 'in action') and I still remember going through it myself, maybe six or seven years ago.

I clearly remember wondering how on earth I would handle questions or requests for help for things I had no clue about . . . and watched in awe as the established tutors then, seemed to handle EVERYTHING with skill and seemingly endless knowledge . . .and while there are still things that I am not the best resource for, almost everything else I have dealt with so often, that even if I am rusty on that skill, I can look it up quickly and easily and help someone who is struggling grasp a concept better . . .

I absolutely LOVE this job.

Oh it is just part time, and while at first we pretty much got to work as many hours as we were able or willing, every semester, the hours are cut more and more . . . The state budget crisis is draining the school's coffers, which is such a shame. At a time when the economy is SO bad, more and more people are returning to college to sharpen job skills (or develop new ones) and with the funding cuts, there are fewer and fewer classes available . . . Even the professors are getting fewer classes to teach . . .

Anyhow, it is VERY part time and doesn't pay very well (we all took big pay cuts a year or two ago), so its not like it would ever allow me to be self supporting, if that need arose . . . It isn't really a 'career' choice . . . but . . . I LOVE what I do . . . I like the variety of working with a HUGE array of writing/English issues . . . varying skill levels . . . and the puzzle of trying to figure out how to help THIS person master THAT skill . . . I like working with people, and this job is a delight . . .

It is also going away . . .

This will be my last semester to do this . . . It was supposed to go away at the end of May, when the state did away with the job classification of 'part time classified' employees . . . but at the last minute a few of us got a reprieve, when a temporary loophole was found . . . so I could work Summer and now Fall semesters . . .

I knew the reprieve was temporary . . . and I was just grateful to be able to keep doing what I loved a little longer . . . I know this isn't personal . . . They aren't TRYING to get rid of me . . . but still . . . I am sad . . .

The entire time I have worked as a tutor at the college, I have absolutely LOVED going to work every day . . . even when things were slow (and there are a few slow periods every semester) there was plenty that I could do, so I can honestly say that the number of times that the time has dragged for me in this job I could count on one hand . . . I love working with a wide variety of people . . . I love the endless variety of problems I encounter . . . I love the air of 'adventure' because until a person sits down next to me and says "I need help with [blah blah blah] I really have NO inkling of what the session will involve . . . and I even love helping someone figure out what their problem areas are if they are not already aware of their weaknesses . . . Best of all is when you can SEE the lights come on in someone's eyes and they finally GET it . . . When something which has baffled and frustrated them, no longer does, and they look hopeful and sometimes even excited about the task ahead of them . . .

I absolutely LOVE that . . .

And yesterday, in the midst of a VERY busy day, one of the tutor-trainees suddenly asked, "Is it true that from here on out that all tutors will be student tutors?" and I answered, "Yes . . . that IS true." And when he followed that up with, "So what will happen to you?" and I had to say, "I will be looking for a new job after this semester" . . . I, all of the sudden, (though this is certainly not a new thought and I have no illusions about another loophole being found) was just SAD at the thought that this is going away . . .



SIGH . . .



Then at MY age . . . in THIS economy . . . I get to start job hunting again . . .



That thought truly IS rather daunting . . .

TMI

I have been doing a lot of thinking about why I drag my feet with blogging . . . I mean, the idea really appeals to me . . . and like I have said many times, I absolutely LOVE to write . . . I find the experience of trying to find precisely the right words to translate an observation or insight or experience or feeling into words to be DEEPLY satisfying . . . sometimes frustrating, sometimes tortuous, but even then, it is exquisitely satisfying -- almost nurturing -- at the same time . . .

As corny as it sounds, I can almost feel myself growing in the exercise . . .

I know that part of it is simply trying to decide WHAT to share . . . Since the people who stop by here (LOL both of you) are people that I know in real life, that limits in some ways what I can share . . . observations about people need to be tempered with the knowledge that those of you reading might know who it is I am describing or discussing . . . and even if that observation is not mean spirited, people do not necessarily like being dissected in that manner . . . As much as I love people watching, I have no wish to make the people that I love uncomfortable on any level . . . so sometimes there are things I would like to discuss, and for which blogging seems like a perfect medium, which I pass on . . . just in case someone would be hurt, offended or feel exposed or uncomfortable . . .

To me, that is simply a part of being involved in a network of interwoven lives . . . in my neighborhood, at work, at church, and most particularly with people that I love dearly . . . my extended family. I may very well be able to see your flaws and inconsistencies and missteps . . . (that is the ROYAL 'you', not anyone in particular) but since I love you, that means that even so I am deeply protective of you . . . I have your back, in a very real sense . . . I think that is what being in a relationship (ANY relationship) means . . .

So there are things I will not discuss here . . . because of the love and respect I have for people who may either read it or hear about it second hand . . .

There are also some experiences . . . some feelings . . . some insights that are perhaps too . . . hmmmmmmm . . . too TENDER . . . for lack of a better word . . . to share here . . .

I am having a difficult time even putting this thought into words . . .

It isn't that I am so fragile that the possibility that someone might not agree with what I wrote would upset me . . . because it wouldn't. I am what I am, and my faith is a huge part of who I am. That was (and continues to be) a deliberate, carefully thought out CHOICE . . . I do not need someone else's agreement or support to validate my beliefs or feelings . . . I am simply not that fragile . . . I have no intention of living my life or choosing my beliefs by 'majority rule' . . .

Even so . . . the thought of sharing some really intimate feelings -- especially those involving my spirituality -- is daunting . . . on a level that I can't quite put my finger on . . .

Perhaps the best way to put it into words is to share an analogy . . .

You know how people love to visit and take pictures of Amish communities? I imagine that desire is based on curiosity and is rarely mean spirited at all . . . It is a chance to step outside the modern world for a moment with its busy deadlines and frantic activities and catch a glimpse of a gentler, simpler time . . . One could be genuinely charmed by their quaint customs and manner of dress and work without feeling the slightest twinge of amusement or criticism . . . but at the same time, the very act of thinking "awwwww . . . how quaint/sweet/charming/refreshing/whatever" means that the observer IS taking a step back and objectifying the watched . . . When we do that (and we all do it) it is very easy to lose sight of the fact that those are REAL people . . . with REAL dreams, REAL lives, REAL families, REAL feelings, REAL concerns . . . AND that their being there in that place and time involved a very real choice . . . simply reducing them to a quaint, charming tourist attraction IS on some level disrespectful, even if it is not meant to be so . . .

I guess I point out that example out as a way of acknowledging that sometimes my 'blogging block' is simply my growing awareness that perhaps there are some things which are too tender (again, for lack of a better word) to share in a blog and hold up to that kind of casual curiosity and scrutiny . . .

I just need to find a balance that I can be comfortable with . . .

AHEM . . . ANOTHER NEW LEAF . . .

Okay . . . I admit it . . .

I really suck at blogging . . .

I LOVE to write . . . and I have things I want to say or share . . . but even with all that going for me . . . I never seem to get it together enough to actually BLOG . . .

I just noticed that my last entry was an entire month ago . . . WOW . . . That is absolutely PATHETIC for someone who LIKES to write . . .

I intend to do better . . . I WILL do better . . .

Oh, not because anything I say here is IMPORTANT . . . simply because the exercise of writing and pinning down my thoughts with words is good discipline . . .

I am going to commit to writing every other day minimum . . . even if what I write is boring as all get out . . . I simply think that making a commitment will make it happen where vague protests that I INTEND to write never will . . .

I have no illusions that I am an interesting enough person to write deep, profound, insightful things every other day . . . but I AM a keen observer, and if nothing else I can share some of my observations about human nature or perhaps just MY all-too-human nature . . .

But write, I will . . .

I promise . . .

SMELLS LIKE HEAVEN . . .

My house smells SOOOoooOOOOO good right now!

I woke up this morning with the STRONGEST desire to bake bread . . . Just out of the blue . . . I did not let the fact that it is AUGUST . . . or that I live in the DESERT . . . or that we are in the midst of a HEAT WAVE deter me . . . I wanted to bake bread, so I DID . . .

I used to make it all the time . . . at least once a week, sometimes more often. I had a big family of five children (four of those boys) and it was a good way to fill up hollow legs and not break the bank on groceries. Now my house is emptier, and my recipe still makes five large loaves . . . but I still just wanted to make it . . .

I wanted to sift the ingredients together . . . I wanted to watch the yeast concoction begin bubbling . . . I wanted to knead the dough and then shape it into loaves . . . I wanted the ENTIRE experience, not just the yummy end result . . .

I am not sure why, exactly, but baking homemade bread from scratch is a SOUL satisfying experience, from start to finish. It goes WAY beyond simply making my house smell delicious or provide food for my family and friends . . . I think it makes me feel connected on some deep spiritual level with my mother whom I absolutely adored (who baked bread) and her mom (whom I also adored and who also baked bread) and my pioneer ancestors (who also baked bread) . . .

Baking like this makes me feel . . . very feminine and womanly and homemakerish . . . WAY out of proportion to the effort involved or the yumminess of the bread itself. I mean, there is nothing about making bread that a man couldn't do, so I don't know why it makes me feel SO feminine, but it absolutely does, in the same way that sewing does, or cleaning my house til it GLOWS does. LOL . . . I know MANY women who have no interest in making bread OR sewing OR house cleaning . . . but even though those are not my favorite activities (except maybe sewing) I DO love how I feel while I am doing them . . .

Oh yeah . . . and I LOVE that when I bake bread, my house smells JUST like heaven . . . (I am SURE of it!) =o)

AUDIENCE OF SELF . . .

I was watching a show this weekend, something we had tivo'd, and it had this quote on the voiceover which really stuck in my mind. I don't even remember what show it was, though it might have been Criminal Minds which often ends with a quotation . . . Anyhow, wherever I heard it, the quote went something like "It is better to write for an audience of self and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self" . . . HMMMM . . . That is not quite right, but it was something like that . . .

It struck me as pretty profound . . . AND it also reiterated what -- for ME -- is the vital part of blogging. I have read quite a few blogs over the years . . . Sometimes I blog hop and just read the blogs of total strangers . . . I read them to see things from others points of view and perspectives . . . to sample writing styles . . . to see the world -- at least temporarily -- through the spectacles of someone else's life experiences . . .

It is a very interesting experience . . . and sometimes I laugh out loud . . . sometimes I find what I read to be disturbing or offensive . . . sometimes I learn things . . . sometimes I am entertained . . . sometimes I am impressed . . . sometimes I am deeply touched . . . sometimes I am in awe of someone's ability to skewer a particular feeling or experience SO perfectly that it absolutely takes my breath away . . .

Words are (or can be) POWERFUL . . . and the written word is (or can be) an incredibly powerful medium . . .

Still, for ME . . . when I try to do anything other than simply capture my life experiences, my thoughts, my feelings as accurately and authentically as I can . . . I get kind of an awkward stupor of thought and I get all bogged down . . . It simply sucks all the satisfaction and joy of writing out of the experience. I have no idea WHY it is like that for me . . .

I mean, I am at least an adequate writer . . . I know where to put the commas . . . I know how to transition between paragraphs and ideas . . . I know one needs a topic sentence . . . etc . . . I know the mechanics of writing fairly well (and yes, I even know that I use -- when blogging -- WAY too many ellipsis . . . so bite me) =oP

I can, in other forums, write in a way that is at least mildly entertaining . . . and yet with BLOGGING . . . I get a very distinctive writer's block if I try too hard to write TO an audience . . . I thoroughly enjoy reading blogs that are funny or informative or persuasive (well . . . sometimes . . . if the person is too heavy handed with their 'persuasions' I am left cold) . . . I enjoy blogs that are written from MANY motivations . . . but if *I* try to write (again, this only applies to BLOGGING) for any other reason that to simply try my inadequate best to share my feelings and perceptions and observations and life experiences as authentically as possible, *I* get tongue tied and the writing becomes a total CHORE . . . It absolutely sucks ALL the satisfaction and fun, even joy, out of the experience . . .

So . . . I think I am beginning to truly understand that I blog for ME . . . for my audience of 'self' . . . and I am okay with that . . .

PRAYERFULLY YOURS . . .

I know that not everyone ascribes to a faith . . .

Many of my friends have a variety of belief systems, and some have none at all . . . But since this is MY blog . . . and I have it to share what is in MY head and heart . . . sometimes I choose to talk about some aspect of my faith . . .

I am a Mormon . . . a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. My faith is a huge part of who and what I am, and I am grateful for what my beliefs add to my life, my family relationships, my dreams, my hopes and even my struggles . . .

One of the key elements of my faith is that I believe with all my heart that there IS, indeed, a God and that He is my Heavenly Father . . . that He loves me and that He has a plan for my life, and for the lives of those I love (and even for the lives of those I am annoyed by, to be honest).

My life is not perfect . . . no more perfect than anybody else's . . . and I struggle at times to make sense of the world and the events that transpire around me. My heart aches for the unanswered questions . . . the things that don't seem to make sense . . . the times that bad things -- sometimes very bad things -- happen to good people . . . especially if they happen to good people that I care about.

And happen, they do . . .

Anyone who thinks that only good things should (or will) happen to good people who are simply trying to live their lives and not harm anyone . . . and that bad things should (or will) only happen to bad, selfish, calloused people is either very young or refuses to face reality . . . The fact is that ALL of us -- good AND bad -- have triumphs and joys and accomplishments AND heartaches and setbacks and sorrows . . .

So looking around to see who 'deserves' what is going on is bound to be an exercise in frustration and bafflement, and often outright pain . . .

I mean, lets face it . . . EACH of us is imperfect enough and has said and/or done enough stupid, shortsighted, hurtful things that if someone is looking for a 'reason' for bad things happening, there is going to be PLENTY of ammunition to pin it on . . . But those moments of 'ohhhhh . . . THAT is why this is happening to her/him/them' only serve to deepen one's pain when very bad things happen to YOU . . . things you don't feel like you deserve and which are absolutely devastating . . .

I think that the truth is that while some of what we struggle with may very well be natural consequences of our choices and priorities (IE, if I spend money I do not have, I WILL have to deal with bounced checks and/or angry creditors . . . if I treat family members with disrespect and disregard their feelings, I WILL have to deal with growing feelings of dissatisfaction and unrest in my home). . . but beyond that, I suspect that MOST of what happens to us is simply LIFE . . . Our mortal experiences are filled with other imperfect human beings who can be selfish and hurtful . . . random life experiences that often seem to happen at the WORST possible moments . . . setbacks and disappointments that are devastating. I, personally, do not believe that God orchestrates it all . . . sends bad experiences to everybody who displeases Him and good to those who do . . .

Oh, I DO believe that blessings come from obedience . . . I absolutely believe that. However, I think that with our limited, mortal points of view, that many of what we tend to view as 'good' things are, in fact, some of our most difficult trials . . . and what we tend to view as 'bad' are some of our greatest blessings . . .

Let me explain . . . Perhaps because I am older, I have seen MANY examples of happenings/events that were welcomed excitedly with open arms . . . new opportunities, lucrative 'rewards', which ultimately led people and families to fracture and crumble . . . One easy example of this is the lottery (something which because of my belief system, I have never even played). To someone who struggles to pay their bills each month . . . winning the lottery seems like SUCH a blessing . . . a dream come true, for sure! Who among us has NEVER pondered what they would do with huge winnings like those offered?!? Bills paid, dream homes built, no financial worries at ALL . . . And yet, historically, those who DO win those kinds of things, often find themselves -- not all that far down the road -- not only in WORSE financial shape, but also admit that it was the catalyst that ended up destroying their families. I am intrigued by the number of people who end up admitting that they would give anything to have their old lives back, problems and all, when it is way too late for a 'do over' . . .

In much the same way, I have also lived long enough to see that many of what we quickly label as 'trials' to be blessings in disguise. Financial setbacks . . . job losses or changes . . . troubling health issues . . . EASILY labeled as horrible, awful things, and yet the growth that comes from facing, dealing with, working through and overcoming those 'opportunities' ends up being something that is life changing in almost miraculous ways . . . opening new doors, new awarenesses, new levels of compassion one never even knew existed . . .

Still . . . despite that, we (and that includes ME) DO tend to struggle at crossroads which are not of our own choosing . . . We are resistant to being invited to grow in new ways, learn new things, step out of our comfort zones . . . and this is as true of ME as anyone else . . .

So . . . here we stand at a crossroads . . . One which is overwhelming and scary and potentially devastating . . .

I freely admit that I am afraid . . . and yet . . .

I know -- with everything in me -- that we are not facing it alone . . . I know that the Lord is mindful of us . . . I know that He will walk through this journey with us . . . AND I know that we can trust Him . . .

I also know -- with all my heart -- that whatever happens, will ultimately be okay . . . even if getting there takes us through some thorny paths . . .



Today I am fasting for him . . . for me . . . for US . . . That we can pull together through this scary trial . . . That we will be able to feel the guidance of the Lord through the current and upcoming events, whatever they may be . . . That we wont waver from the path we have carefully and prayerfully chosen, and which we KNOW is right . . .

And that through it all . . . We will be able to feel HOPE . . . and not give in to despair . . .


Because, bottom line . . . isn't THAT what faith is all about?

PUTTING MYSELF OUT THERE . . .

You know, to be honest, I really thought I would use this blog more than I do . . . After all, I LOVE to write . . . I know some people have blogs mainly to post photos, or recipes, or youtube clips . . .but I am not much of a photographer, and sharing recipes just isn't my thing, except on rare occasions, and I am not technologically savvy enough to post clips. Those just simply aren't my thing. But I LOVE love LOVE to write . . .

And yet, days turn into weeks and I just don't write here . . .

I guess I haven't found my little niche -- yet -- in blogland . . .

Who am I writing for or to . . . What am I trying to accomplish here . . . If this is JUST for me, why don't I write in an old fashioned journal . . .

I just don't know . . .

This began as an experiment . . . to allow my children and extended family members to get to know ME (if they had any desire to) . . . beyond just the me-as-mom . . . and the me-as-wife . . . and the me-as-aunt . . . me-as-sister, etc . . . I wanted to be able to share my thoughts, my insights, my life experiences just as a PERSON . . . just as a WOMAN . . . just as, well, ME . . .

But that is harder to do that it seems like it would be . . .

I find myself filtering things so I don't step on anybody's toes . . . so there is no possibility of stepping on toes . . . Maybe I still do . . . but that is not my intent . . . There is no getting away from the fact that that IS tricky, though . . . For instance, if I share something about my marriage or relationship with my husband, how is he going to feel about what I share? Will he feel exposed? threatened? uncomfortable? If I worry too much about that, then I filter what I write, and it becomes NOT a reflection of my thoughts and insights, but what I think he wants to hear or needs to hear . . .

Ditto for others . . . Where does my need/right to share end . . . ? Is it at someone else's comfort zone? I heard about an author who wrote a book about family interactions that was a thinly disguised autobiography. When it got published and got a lot of attention her family members were FURIOUS with her . . . They felt humiliated and uncomfortably, unflatteringly portrayed . . . Most of them stopped speaking to her, and one even brought suit against her for invasion of privacy . . .

The trouble is, I can see both sides of that . . .

The author had a right to tell her story . . . She had changed names and fudged a bit on details to cloud who and what she was talking about . . . She tried to be objective and fair, but in order to tell the stories authentically, she couldn't focus on how the people would LIKE to be portrayed . . . She was more concerned with telling her story, and sharing her insights about human nature . . .

Her family members, on the other hand, were angry and upset at her seeming betrayal. They felt like she had no right to share the intimate details of their lives, even with the names changed. THEY could recognize themselves in her book, and had no reason to think others would have any more difficulty. In addition to that, they felt like THEIR side of the stories and issues were not properly addressed . . . The rendition was all one sided, and wasn't fair . . .

And that IS inevitable . . . isn't it? We all see things from our own points of view, even as we share experiences with one another (and isn't that what relationships are about? sharing?) . . . We get glimpses into the mindset of others as we get older and stop being quite so self absorbed . . . as we develop compassion and a willingness to suspend judgment . . . but even so, it is probably nigh unto impossible to TRULY be completely objective . . . especially when dealing with the highly-emotionally-charged issues regarding the intimacies of family relationships and friendships . . .

On the other hand . . . is it really worth the effort and self reflection to blog, if all one can share is bland, inoffensive pleasantries? I am not one that has ever TRIED to be offensive . . . I do not walk around proclaiming "I am what I am, and you just have to deal with it" as I stomp carelessly through the lives of others . . . I have no desire to live like that. I don't LIKE to hurt or offend or embarrass other people . . . Still . . . if all I can say here (since my extended family and friends DO have access to it) are generic niceties . . . um . . . why bother?

I mean, it would be nice if my marriage was always moonlight and roses, and my extended family relationships never had any squabbles -- large or small -- and all my friends were exemplary and perfect. But that is not real life . . . It just isn't. EVERY relationship chafes sometimes . . . EVERY relationship can be stifling and irritating once in awhile . . . ALL of us have things of which we are not proud (and perhaps even downright ashamed) of . . . that is the nature of the beast, the cost of being human . . .

When my children were little, I began writing long, newsy letters to my family and also to my in laws . . . In them, I told about our day-to-day lives, cute things the kids had said and done, about our hopes and dreams and plans . . . My mother-in-law saved them ALL in several huge binders and gave them back to me as a family history of sorts. I LOVE reading through them and being reminded of little incidents that I had completely forgotten about . . . and yet even as I delight in reading them, I am aware that they do not tell the whole story.

Those long, newsy letters tell a prettified, sanitized version of our lives . . . one in which my husband and I might squabble and have our little differences, but we certainly are never ANGRY or FRUSTRATED or wonder if we will still be together in another year or two or ten . . . a version where my children were endlessly charming and while the exhaustion of mothering five active, creative, imaginative children comes through the lines of the letters, I don't see much evidence of the sleepless nights wondering how to handle a troubling issue . . . the frustration of trying to find a way to teach a child a lesson that is vitally important that he/she master . . . the feelings of wondering if I am up to the deeply satisfying but also incredibly stretchy, overwhelming task of nurturing the minds and spirits and characters of five very precious children.

And those omissions are not surprising . . . I mean, who wants to air their dirty laundry . . . expose all their messy unfinishedness to people they are linked to and who have at least an emotional stake in our ability to juggle all those tasks, all those responsibilities . . . ?

We WANT people who matter to us (and even some who do not) to think well of us . . .

That is only natural . . .

Sooooo . . . what IS the happy medium between brutal truth (from our perspectives) and guarding (and even trying to shape) the image that others have of us? Where can one comfortably (for all parties concerned) walk the line between authenticity and sugar coating?

These ARE all vitally important issues to be considered . . .

Let me make it clear here that I do not wish to write 'so and so is a heinous bitch' or 'whatz-his-bucket is a selfish pig' . . . because, honestly, I rarely think of people in terms like that . . . I know how multifaceted human beings are . . . how filled with inconsistencies and frailties . . . and I really try to give other people the benefit of the doubt, even when their actions and words are hurtful and baffling and disappointing . . . As human beings, we are NOT all black or all white . . .

People are . . . well . . . complicated . . . we are EACH a bundle of strengths and weaknesses . . . talents and flaws . . . good and evil . . . NONE of us are completely finished products . . .

People -- ALL people -- sometimes hurt and disappoint . . . we sometimes make good choices, and sometimes make very poor choices . . . it is human nature, I think, to try to rewrite our own personal histories to make ourselves the good guy in our stories, and OTHER people the ones at fault for anything that might have gone wrong . . .

And by that same token, we all have things we like about ourselves, that we enjoy getting patted on the back for . . . and there are aspects to our characters, choices and past actions that we would rather not have broadcast to the world, even hypothetically, to be dissected by people who do not love us, do not think well of us and don't care if we are humiliated by their judgments and assessments . . .

So . . . um . . . yeah . . . blogging is complicated . . .

Perhaps what I really need is a pseudonym and a completely anonymous, 'secret' blog where I can truly bare my soul to the universe . . . but that defeats the main purpose for THIS blog . . . If what I share is secret and anonymous, then it does not help my extended family and friends to know me . . . to TRULY come to know ME . . . if they should ever have that desire . . .

And when it comes right down to it . . . isn't that the greatest gift we can give one another? The freedom to share exactly who and what we are without fear of rejection or judgment? Of COURSE other people have opinions . . . especially if our choices and actions ripple out to affect them . . . How could they NOT care and speculate on what is best?

But the comfort and freedom of feeling SAFE to share and bare ones soul . . .

THAT would be the gift of a lifetime . . .





Sooooo . . . um . . . yeah . . . Trying to integrate all that concern and sensitivity and awareness while trying to authentically share my life experiences and thoughts and insights is a very tricky tightrope to walk . . .

I suspect that is why I have so much trouble blogging here . . .


SIGH . . .

But even so . . . I INTEND to keep trying to do so . . .






Maybe there is a way . . .