I'll admit, I used to view blogging as narcissistic. Okay. I still view blogging as narcissistic.
Don't worry, friends, this doesn't mean you.
I read many of your blogs and thoroughly enjoy getting the the opinions, details, and glimpses of your life that I may not get otherwise. I suppose I have read them with a "Caution: Don't Try This At Home" disclaimer. Or perhaps I know this, too, is destined to later be boxed-up with my scrap-booking supplies, knitting needles, or any of the endless forgotten hobbies which abound. But, still, here I sit. Typing, and deleting, typing and deleting. Careful crafting the first paragraphs of this blog that someone will read. Or no one will read. Both options equally assuring, and yet. Not.
Mostly, upon further contemplation, I think this blog could quite possible be for me and for me alone. A snapshot of my journey [be it spiritual, emotional, physical or as a wife, mother, daughter, friend, working woman, etc. etc. so on and so forth] to later look back on. One that can only be taken in a fashion of this sort. And that, I truly don't believe for a second, is narcissistic.
So I offer a mixed-bag of noteworthys, non-noteworthys, miscellaneous observations, reflections, experiences, challenges, and many joys, with a promised sprinkling of [nice, candy-coated] opinion. Here I am, here it is, here we go.