rambling rosemarie

I have had a series of topics I have thought about blogging. I haven't had the energy to sit down and write them. It really has been all I can do to sit and relay stories. That has actually been helpful to me, even if I am the only one who reads them. Writing stories about my life is cathartic. Cathartic catharsis. I wonder why writing is such a pressure release valve? You would think it would have something to do with connecting to the reader and yet blogging is for the most part an impersonal action for me. I have a few people who read what I write, but most folks stumble across my page in search of something else. According to my statistics it takes them less than a minute to discover I am not what they were looking for. I envy their discernment. I often thought I wanted to be a writer. I have had people tell me I should sit down and write a book. I don't know what I would write about if I did. There are so many things to read on the net, so many books available here tha...

Yesterday I got up with every intention of doing some quick reading on-line and then getting to the chores for which I have fallen woefully behind. Woefully is an understatement. Between work, being poked and prodded by various doctors and being on the cusp of one viral illness or another, I am exhausted. I need to dust, vacuum, iron, do laundry, mop floors... the whole bit. So, when my sister called and asked if I wanted to go to Costco with her, I said yes without hesitation. My sister has been going through it. She is trying to rescue her parents from 2400 miles away, providing them with the most graceful, comfortable and respectful ends to their lives. She had just flown back from California and we were both in need of some sister time. Before I left, I mentioned in my favorite chat channel that I was headed for an adventure and one of my dear cyber-siblings bade me farewell and told me to come home and write on my blog. I have to say that gave me a double blessing. I got to see my...