Summer Hiatus

It's not as if there is nothing to say; I've rarely been accused of that, at least since I turned eleven and decided that speaking to others was a skill worth honing for my personal benefit. This was fifth grade, after the late winter of fourth grade, when the kid who picked his nose in the back of the classroom raised a snotty finger and pointed it at me. The boys were choosing dance partners for the Georgia Day square dance. That was the defining moment when I realized that I had to raise my voice in protest of something. I had to set limits and control my destiny. But I didn't. So the first hand of the opposite sex that I held belonged to the booger-laden class pariah whom I despised, because I was too shy to prevent it.

I pondered this humiliation during the summer. By the first day of fifth grade, I determined to quit being the mousey girl. I opened my mouth and spoke to classmates.

By sixth grade, I had advanced to spreading rumors about bra-stuffing simply because I hated a girl. I gossiped, lied, bragged, and sometimes even said nice things when I ran out of bile and nonsense.

I have rarely been at a loss for words ever since. This has made blogging easy for me, and my newspaper column has steadily hummed along for five and a half years.

But this summer I have been struggling with family illness, business, and other stuff of life. I want to write but have difficulty finding time for the blog right now.

Long story short, I'm taking a few weeks off and will be back to posting when life settles down. This worries me - not because there are hundreds of readers out there hanging onto my wise words - but rather because I love the discipline required by regular posting. It's writing practice, and the process helps me order my otherwise chaotic existence. I had tried to achieve this via purely private writing before starting to write online three years ago. But this site has worked remarkably well for me, so much better than pen and paper. Even the most mundane post requires reflection and focused intent. This page keeps me honest - I'm beyond spreading rumors about classmates' brassieres. I have to make sure that I'm not stuffing wads of paper down my own shirt.

So I'll get back to online wordsmithing by the dog days of August - I suppose that if I were still in school, that would be the beginning of the 41st grade.

NTD