Writing is a funny thing. I think that because most people physically know how to write, writing gives the illusion of simplicity. Since I appreciate good writing when I read or hear it, I somehow think I can write well. And then I sit down to do it and am consistently disappointed at my lack of skill. So then I don't write. And surprisingly, I don't get any better at it.
I started a blog when my two children were small and I was a stay at home parent. It allowed me a creative outlet that only belonged to me. Anyone with young children will surely understand the need for something that is only yours, as everything in your life, including your body and private time in the bathroom, is shared.
Then I went back to work and my time and brain cells were spoken for. But now my small children are no longer small. They are wonderful adults with lives (mostly) away from here.
I now have time and space to call my own. Sadly, this doesn't make me a better writer. Thus a new blog - I was unable to update the old one and maybe that's for the best. And although practice doesn't make perfect, it does make better. Here's to better.
