May 17, 2005
Why am I writing this, and why are you reading it?
Several of my family members have blogs, and each time I pull them up I feel a little closer to them, voyeristically though it may be. Then I think, I should do that. Immediately followed by the thought, but what on earth would I write about that anyone would want to read?

Resoudingly (in my head at least), the answer is a big fat nothing!However, I muse, if a 30- minute sitcom could exist for years on the premise of nothing, why I can't I write about nothing? Isn't nothing really the meat of our daily lives, connecting graduations, weddings, births, funerals, and trips to Europe? I would have to argue that it is.

So, I'm here to tell you about nothing, and everything, in my life.I spent an enchanted hour in my back yard today, teaching my wobbly 15-month- old to back down the 3 inch step off of the patio so he will quit hitting his head on the concrete, and consequently, so it will stop looking like I beat the poor kid. He's not sure about grass yet, so he pretty much keeps to the patio, except when he sees something really interesting to explore (a.k.a. sprinkler head), at which point he runs headlong off of the concrete step (enter bump on forehead) and then wobbles as fast as his stubby little legs will take him to pick up a rock and chew on it, because by this time he has forgotten about the sprinkler head which started his quest. Can you think of a better way to spend the day?