Wednesday, May 18, 2011

who gives a twat?


Less than a week from today I will have written this blog for a year.

Monday I'll bake some yummy thing to proudly post, or I'll buy one of those beautiful cupcakes from Whole Foods on Abrams.  I'll take a picture, then gently peel away the paper wrapper and eat the entire cake myself, savoring every bite.  I've earned it.

That's how I like to do things.  Earn them.  Sweeter that way.

***

I've earned you readers.  I know because you come only by choice. 

You see, it's getting ca-ca-raaa-zy out there.

With all good intentions, I've been told (on more than one occasion) that I need this and that for my blog; this for that purpose or this other thing for that other purpose.  And oh, if I only had such and such

Links and Feeds and Facebook and Twitter...  Letting you know when I've posted my most recent thoughts could be only a vibration away!

***

It might be time to stop.

We've talked about a lot this year, celebrated the days and all that they brought.  Overwrought days too.  You came, you read, and I thank you.

They say when you retire, there aren't enough hours in a day.  It's true, there aren't.  I want to maybe teach cooking classes to women at Hope's Door.  I want to finish that book.  I want, I want, I want... 

But yet, I want to keep showing you pictures like these Lamb's Ears which we've let bloom to their heart's content this spring. 































We still haven't talked about Pat Conroy at the Dallas Museum of Art, or Roy Orbison's lyrics.  We haven't made a Limoncello Lemon Tart and I haven't shown you that funky McDonald's I discovered in East Dallas.  I'm not sure I told you about the Mark McKenzie Quartet's kick ass swinging version of The Way You Look Tonight... 

And, I'm still converting those grainy photos of Italy because they're beautiful to me and I want to share them.

***

So, we'll just see how it goes.  Or if it goes.

I can tell you though, if the blog continues, don't expect ringtones alerting you to posts, any time soon.  Nope, not even a beep.  Uh, I mean, tweet. 

You'll have to visit the old-fashioned way.  I like it like that.

Call me ca-ca-raaa-zy.








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