Where I usually blather

A few years ago, I started to keep an online book journal. I had intended to write about every single book I read and keep a record of every book I bought. I really haven't made great strides toward accomplishing that goal, but I at least remember to write down the title of most of the books that I read. Now when I'm trying to remember the title of that book that had the magic dollhouse in it, I can look it up in the journal.

Yes, I read books with magic dollhouses in them.
So?

About three months ago, I decided to start a blog. It's not that I feel I have anything interesting to say... it's more that I spend a good part of the day by myself, with this running commentary in my head and I thought that maybe if I wrote it down someplace that ostensibly could be read by other people, then maybe I would feel less like I'm just talking to myself all of the time and less like I am actually going crazy.
And yes, the running commentary in my head uses a lot of run-on sentences.

Now, I am very shy, and frequently do not say anything to anyone. I may have something in my head that I think I maybe should say, but then I think about it some more and decide that no one really wants to hear what I have to say.
Plus, in the past, when I have thrown caution to the wind and actually said something, I frequently end up saying it too softly, so the person I'm speaking to has to ask what I said and they lean in trying to hear me and are totally focused on me (and trying to act patient with the social moron [me] standing in front of them) and that is the point that I realize that what I said wasn't nearly that interesting and I sure as hell don't want to say it again now and I really wish the ground would just open and swallow me.

But, I shouldn't have that kind of problem with a blog that I don't tell anyone about, right?

right.

As soon as I sit down at the computer to blog some of the stuff the voices in my head said during the day, I start thinking, "None of this is that interesting. I don't think I should talk about that," and then I end up with no blog post.
Also, as of late, a good portion of my running commentary has been complaining. I am not pleased with the way my life is going, and I spend a lot of time bitching and moaning to myself. I originally thought I would just go with that - make a blog of complaining, kind of like my old diary, but in a form that's less likely to be accidentally found by my kids. But I thought it was kind of boring. Same old, same old.

So now I post sporadically, sometimes complaining, sometimes about other stuff.
And I got a new blog here, because God knows I need one more place to not post to regularly.
Because I am the queen of indecisiveness, I can't decide whether to keep them all or try to consolidate into one. And I don't expect to make a decision anytime soon.

Here's my complaining (or not) blog: Water Through A Frozen Pipe

Better luck next year

Every year I intend to take some stunning pictures when the leaves are at their most dazzling. I hardly ever manage it. Somehow it always works out that the days that the sun is brilliant and the colors are just perfect are the days that I'm running around and haven't a minute to spare and even if I tried to steal a minute or two it wouldn't matter because I forgot my camera at home. The days that I have time (and my camera) end up being the dark and drizzly days. This year was no different. This is one of the few pictures that I took outside this autumn.

Dreary day with not much to say

My son took this picture on a class field trip last year.

Kurt