Blogging becomes a drag and a chore after a few years. I don't know about you, but I'm getting to the point where it's no longer fun. I think it's because there are so many other things going on around me that taking a few minutes or an hour or two out of the day to compile a blog becomes a hindrance instead of the joy I used to have. I'm fighting this, because I like to write.
My computer was off Friday and Saturday because we were having a two-day yard sale, as if one day wasn't enough. My wife went through the house and drug out all the crap she didn't want any longer and we set it up in the yard on tables or the cement driveway and I set up my table with used books and the books I've written and we waited for customers. Oh yes, my stepdaughter drug her stuff over here and displayed it for sale. She had more items than we did, and made more money, too. Afterward,my wife says "This is the last time I'm going to participate in this. I'm tired of it." I wholeheartedly agreed with her, even though I sold eight books and had some good conversation with the customers. And if that wasn't enough, Saturday during the yard sale the County Inspector shows up to check out some electric work we had done. He marked it 'FAILED" because of some oleander bushes in front of the new electric panel. Even though the bushes have been there over twenty years as part of a hedge, I had to cut them out or he wouldn't approve the work. That cost me forty dollars and a couple of hours of cussing. The Electrician says he will get it re-inspected later next week.
I haven't been able to work on my new project for over a week because of things like this, and trying to keep up a blog just twice a week adds to the turmoil. I could stop writing it, but I don't think I will.
It gives me an excuse to get out of the other stuff once in a while. Life goes on, by golly, and I intend to continue what I'm doing, be damned.