That's what blogging became for me - it's not you, it's me. No, really - for whatever reason writing became more of a daily chore. More about reader numbers and meeting some invisible, entirely self-imposed expectations than losing myself in the writing and in the companionship, the original reasons I got into this here interwebs deal. Silly, isn't it? I don't know how I got there, but . . .
It has also grown, um, weird putting my personal life on the internet, particularly with more real-life friends - hi, real-life friends! - (yes, I have a few) (pinky swear) - reading here, a sort of one-sided TMI experiment that made for some awkward conversations.
I've hit this blogging speed bump before, and this too shall pass. I'll find a new path, a different way to enjoy writing. I do miss the writing, the picture taking, and - most importantly - you all.
Until then, however, backing away seems like the right answer, and I'm really enjoying the time it has freed up for me to re-focus on the little big things:
After hosting Thanksgiving - for which I managed both to cook and not poison anyone (either accidentally or intentionally) - we're enthusiastically getting into the Christmas spirit. As soon as the turkey cools here at Pretty HQ, I'm unpacking ornaments and impatiently waiting until I can send out holiday cards:
Happy start to the holiday season, lovelies. I'll be here even if I'm not always here, drumming my fingers, wondering whether I can send those cards already . . .