Two hundred posts---this Sunday will be eight months---since I took the leap into throw-it-out-there blogging, sending my thoughts and words out to who-knows-where, and November now seems eons gone, and yesterday-fresh.
These words and stories have been received by nothing but kindness; each day brings a pageful of bright flags from nations unvisited save through sending out little snippets of the everyday moments which make up our days. And never have the words been greeted with aught save kinship and welcome. The “followers” are few, and I look on those faces every day with gratitude and respect and welcome of my own, thinking of their taking out a moment to look in, to peek into the windows of our lives here, to walk across the mat and settle into the sitting room or lawn chair for tea and a friendly chat.
And I thank them. I say a heart-deep Thank You to each and every one who has stepped into these pages, for a tiny glimpse, for a fleeting moment, for a settle-in with a Saturday-to-spare immersion. That’s a wonderful thing, a compliment whose import I cannot express, wordy though I am.
The boxes and reams and overflowing closet of midnight words and daily tellings have always been written for ME, somehow, with only family and a friend or two privy to the tales; and now, with this newfound medium, there’s a bringing-out of old thoughts and memories, a dipping-back into the well of the old writings, as well. There's also an unaccustomed wideness to it, a vast unknown to the sharing that is gratifying in a deep way, and scary as all get out, as well.
I just cannot tell you how much the interest and the comments and the mere stopping-by mean to me, for it’s akin to being visited every day by friends, old and new. And that’s a wonderfully happy thing, the bright moments of meeting new folks and re-kindling old friendships.
Your welcome and your words, your interest and your loyal following---I cannot imagine a greater compliment, a greater gift. And for the Two Hundredth Time: Thank you. Thank You from my heart.