Writing

Recently, Materfamilias made reference to my blog and a particular post.

It resulted in 88 page views.

That is just weird. Nice but weird.

Up until very recently not more than a handful of people had ever read any of my writing.

It is strange that there are people out there in the world who read about my Sunday afternoon.

My ordinary Sunday afternoon.

I have never been into the internet, as such. Most of the social media thing passed me by. I only have 30 friends on facebook. I am not into facebook.

I love blogging though. I love writing consistently and finding my voice,

The words flow most days. I don't have to spend hours crafting my posts, they just are. There are words in my head. Posted onto a site, appearing, recording my life.

I started this for me. My diary. I wanted to make some connections too. And I have. I love my favourite blog reads.

I was reflecting on this with friends last week. When I was younger I was a pen pal addict. I loved writing to my pen pals, collected them and shared with them small details. I practised langauge and words. I used gorgeous writing paper and pens.

When I got home from school I loved it when there was a letter sat on the side for me. Lovely swirling handwriting. Strangely I remember that most of my pen pals had gorgeous handwriting.

I kept my letters too, for a long time.

So blogging for me replaces notebooks, journals and pen pals.

I hope to make more connections and find some blogging pals.

It is delightful and comforting to have those once in a while comments. Someone who gets your post, your words and the slice of life presented. I wish they came in beautiful pink envelopes.

I look forward to my year of blogging and see what happens next.

And of course, more sleep. See earlier post.