Oh, boy. Looks like I fell off the blogging wagon again.
I gotta tell you, this blogging thing? It ain’t for sissies.
I must confess that after a year of blogging, taking the time to write is still sometimes harder than I think it should be. But that being said, last Lent when I suddenly got a wild hair to blog every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I thought my ability to do that would last forever!
Still, alas, here we are, a full week gone by without an entry. (And I still have no real idea what to say.) But the bigger issue is that I’m finding I don’t really want to make the time right now to do it. Blog, I mean.
But please know this: it’s not because of you.
It’s because the kids’ school years are winding down, and their activities are winding up, and I find myself twisting in the wind trying to hold on to every moment between now and their final day before celebrating their summer freedom, and lamenting that another year has come and gone so quickly. You know, just like I do every year.
SO, on that note, I want to say that I am realizing I can’t keep up the pace of a thrice-a-week blog right now. (Or I just don’t want to.) Either way, I’m only committing to one post a week for a while.
I hope you understand.
And because I like to try not to leave my readers hanging (but mostly because I need to have a commitment in order to fill it) let’s say from this point forward to look for my blog on Mondays and I’ll let you know if that doesn’t work for me down the road, OK?
Whew! Glad to have that cleared up!
In other news, I have to tell you what I was so excited to come across last weekend. It’s one of the BEST things about moving out here to good ol’ PA. It’s a massive book sale held once a year at our local college campus. And for the past two years I have totally SCORED at this sale!
I have such a good time there, that I just walk in and march my little ol’ self up to the religion section, and I start throwing books in my bag. I hardly have to even think about it…you know why? Because the books are DIRT CHEAP! (And by dirt cheap I mean if it’s $3.00, I may just put it back!)
Here are the great books that will keep me company this year, from the sale:
They cost me a whopping $29.50.
I know! (Try not to be jealous.)
Anyway, I get so excited about all I find there that I seldom realize how different my “favorite” selections are from those of my younger years. I’m no longer among the people clamoring for the best sellers. (In fact, it’s likely I’ve not even heard of them!) Which may just explain why I’ve been asked on a few occasions (usually by someone while I’m waiting at the doctor’s office) if I’m reading the book for a class. (I guess they mean as in college?) (If so, I’m certain they must think I’m back in school…not in it for the first time!) Anyway, it’s happened enough times that I’m not as surprised by the inquiry as much now, and I just usually laugh and say, “Nope. I’m just a big nerd.” Which usually makes them laugh and we can both just move on from the awkwardness of the moment.
Since that is my “normal” experience, I was tickled by the response of the older gentleman running the register (OK, it’s really just a calculator) at the book sale as I was checking out at last weekend’s book fair. He’d either read them and loved them, or really wanted to read them, it seemed. I couldn’t help but smile at his comments as he was ringing up my tab. He marveled over and over at what great books I had found. (Clearly he was a kindred spirit and not just “blowing smoke” as he’d not seemed nearly as fascinated with the previous person’s finding of Raising Cats and Household Handyman.) No. He seemed genuinely astonished at all my finds as he put the last book in the bag for me. I think it was in an effort to try to understand his and my “reading connection” that made him ask, “Are you in school?” I chuckled a little but his question caught me a bit off guard. He’d asked it differently than I’d been asked before, not just in his wording, but also in his tone. He really seemed like he wanted to know. (Any past inquiries had all been veiled ways of saying, “That book looks so boring you must be reading it for a class.”) I was just as curious and impressed as he that we had these books in common. So how should I answer?
I thought for a moment and flashed him my biggest smile.
“Well…just the School of Life,” I said.
And he smiled then, too. Understanding, it seemed.
“Ahh…the School of Life, ” he said, “I like that. The School of Life.”
It wasn’t until I walked away, still thinking about that moment, that I realized the Absolute Truth in my response.