There are multiple reasons, of course. It’s not like I’ve been totally incommunicado. I do post a lot on Facebook and I Tweet fairly often. That isn’t blogging of course; much of it is just curating & sharing other people’s links & photos & articles.
I have been busy doing things, just not blogging. Andrea & I have been trying to grow Copper Dancer Designs, with a reasonable amount of success. We are In Good with one of the Atlanta-area art festival promoters, which sets us up for a nice show schedule. That means that, given the lousy economy, we are doing well locally. The next step is to beef up that online presence…in my spare (YAH! RIGHT!) time. We are both realists and know that this will never actually support us, but it should be good for a nice little supplemental income in the long run.
I’m still dancing. Bellydancing. Who would have thought it? In fact, bellydancing spun off its own semi-collaborative blog last spring, Thursday Nights at Windy Hill. I say semi-collaborative because I asked all the Thursday Night Ladies if they wanted access to write. So far Mary has put up one post but that’s it. Since it needs some love, I may do some of this month’s actual NaBloPoMo posts over there, with just a pointer from here. I have several topics for there that I just haven’t gotten to. I should really write out some of my current dancing quandary, because that just might give me (and maybe others) some clarity.
I could write about work, I suppose, but why? It would just be kvetching, and no one wants to read my kvetching. Hell, *I* don’t want to read my kvetching — it’s just so much of the same sh*t, different semester. BLEAH!!
So what else? I battled depression all winter & spring, and Dad finally lost his battle with pulmonary fibrosis last month. Neither of those makes for good blogging huh.
It’s not all bad, though. I fell in love with Tybee Island over Memorial Day. I’m cleaning up my diet little by little. I’m teaching myself to knit. Mary & I did very well dancing at the Red Light Cafe show, bringing honor to the Older, Heavier Dancers (neener, neener). The home life is quietly wonderful.
Maybe there is stuff to write about. Maybe writing about it will be another tool in the battle against the bad stuff.