Why I Don't Blog Often

I don't blog often because, well because I don't think I say anything anyone wants to read. If I blog just for me (as I'm sure someone will make the argument for), then I could just as well use a diary.

Fact is, I HAVE a diary, but I can't find it. New word for diary: Journal. I journal. That sounds oh, so much more sophisticated than "I write in my diary." THAT sounds like a 12-year-old girl talking. And while I am not enjoying my 56th year of living, I damn sure wouldn't trade it to be 12 again!

But anyway, I have a journal and the last thing I wrote in it was, I think, all about how angry I was (and still am) that my husband has decided he doesn't want to be married to this old woman anymore. Old Woman = Me. Now you know why I'm not enjoying my 56th year of living.

Well, anyway, my days aren't the sort of days where I can climb into bed at the end of the evening and write a Dickensian-type of story or poem. My journaling would be reduced to more along the lines of "Rainy today. Went to work. Came home. Ham sandwich for lunch. Ironed sheets, put away clothes, Chinese for supper, croched a little on the afghan I'm making. Time for bed." Gads, even a 12-year-old would find more exciting things to write about, or she'd have the sense to make them up!

So I'm pathetic. But here I am blogging again. Maybe this time I'll keep it up. Or not. It depends, I suppose, on whether or not I have an exciting day or feel especially witty or prose-y.

And also whether or not I remember.

I love you all more than the fall day where everything looks brighter than it did before the leaves started changing and the sky got bluer.

Courthouse news

Well, it's 95% done! We need to add the doors to the cells, and get the doors that go from the 'outdoors' into the courthouse painted, and then all we need is a lock on the gun case and a few doilies and a floor lamp and it's all finished! Now if only the jerk who has our '61 Ford would get it finished so we can have a squad car replica...things'd just be downright perfect! He has had our car for over 4 years. If it were up to me, I would have driven it off that lot three years ago, but I have to leave this one up to Dave. (Fume...)

Our book club

Some of my fellow teachers at my school have joined together to form a book club. We all love to read, of course, but some folks joined simply because they crave the after-hours adult conversation before heading home to spend the rest of the evening with their kids and spouse, or by themselves.

So we met this afternoon for the first time and we reviewed the book, "The Pull of the Moon" by Elizabeth Berg. I suggested this book because we were going to read and review another of her books, "A Year of Pleasures"...I also love that book but it has some pretty sad stuff in it and since a couple of members were in pretty much the same boat as the main character, I felt that rather than them being able to embrace this and enjoy the story, they would instead be reminded a little too much of their own losses. So we switched to "The Pull..."

It was so interesting to hear everyone's take on this book. I was so taken by it, as was another teacher, and we took every word to heart...we each marked a dozen or more places in the book that we wanted to share with the others and then discuss. It didn't happen - others either didn't find the book to be relevant to their lives, or they just weren't as enthralled as we were with the story line. Personally, I wanted to go with the character on her road trip and talk with her about Martin and my husband and how we both (she and I) just want to run away sometimes! My friend also found that some of the passages spoke to her; she wanted to go home and tell her husband that she was going to live for HER from now on, and he was welcome to join her on the trip...or not.

Personally, I think my friend and I got from the book exactly what we were meant to get from it. And so did the others.

I guess it is all about relevance.

I should be happy that the others aren't at the place in their lives that they feel this book is a little voice speaking to them, "go, go." But instead, I'm just sad that they missed the point (or so it seemed to me) and found the woman whiny and small.

Or does it mean I'm also whiny and small?

Just testing.

Living in Mayberry in the Midwest

In 2002, my husband and I began building our dream home--a replica of the Taylor home in Mayberry. Since then, we have completed the home, moved in, and opened it as the Taylor Home Inn B&B in Clear Lake, Wisconsin. We take great pride in being officially sanctioned and licensed by CBS. Most of the rooms are as close to exactly like Andy's house as possible while still having to live in the modern world. On summer evenings when we sit on the front porch, counting cars like Barney and Mrs. Mendlebright did, we feel a tremendous sense of peace knowing that when we go inside, we will enter "Andy's" house and for a little while everything will be okay in Mayberry!