Well, it looks as if I've taken to blogging once a month. Besides other more pressing matters keeping me away from the computer, I find myself, once again, uninspired to write. Except ... a few days ago (maybe, Friday) after I waved goodbye to my husband as he headed up the hill toward town. I stood looking out the kitchen window, marveling at the snow that covered the ground. And the trees. And the rooftops. It was so pretty, I found myself describing the scene in my head. Words! An idea! I almost ran to turn on the computer but, alas, I needed to get ready for the day. I was hoping I could remember my thoughts at a later time but I could not.
I grow weary of simply recording the events of our lives. Yes, it's important to me to remember these times, knowing how quickly my kids grow. But I want more from my writing. I must remind myself that there is a season for all things. This is the season of growing and teaching my kids, of watching my husband blossoming in a new position in the medical field, a position important to the community. A time of wondering how much longer I'll have my mom around to talk on the phone with. And me, approaching (and probably beginning) the stage of life that cruelly reminds us our child-bearing years will end someday soon. Not that I want more kids but it's still nice to know I possibly could.
I love pushing "Check Spelling" and having it tell me "No misspellings found". Something I'd love to tell my high school typing teacher. Boy, she was sure an inspiration. She was to be feared. I totally respected her. In my yearbook, she wrote, "You have a talent that will serve you well", speaking of my typing skills. I never was able to tell her just how prophetic her words were. Typing was my life for years, and I owed her a great deal for that.
Who have you inspired? Think about it. It could be years ago or yesterday. Or tomorrow.