After a few nervous months of trying to figure out what I should and what I shouldn’t write about in my blog, I have come to a content decision. I think a lot, I mean A LOT. Especially when I am doing the dishes and driving to and from work. I think about civilizations, about definitions, about the soul of the bug that just hit the windshield and then I think about why I can’t get my act together enough to use recyclable doggie do-do bags.

So, who am I after all? I am a 47-year-old woman living in a tiny city in New Hampshire, whimsically called Manch-Vegas. Why that is so, I have no idea. The name, not why I am here. That reason is clear – JeanPaul lives here and I live with him –  father of 3 grown boys, and grandfather to 2. Our life together is fairly simple except when it’s not, which is quite often. Did I mention that I’m a barren woman? I like that word, barren. It implies that without a working womb, there’s not much else there. I like to think that because the womb wasn’t working, my body sent extra blood to my brain, which may be why I think a lot. Or, God felt pity on me and gave me lots of other things to think about so I wouldn’t get too angry about being gypped out of motherhood. Either way, it is what it is as is my life.

On my 2.5-mile drive to work each day I listen to NPR. A few afternoons a month, I am lucky enough to catch an editorial by Andrei Codrescu. His points of view and not so subtle sarcasm are seductive to me and I place him in my hall of fame of great 21st century essayists. As a matter of fact, the Internet has become a breeding ground for budding essayists. It reminds me of the 17th century thinkers who hired local printers to publish their thoughts on any number of topics. The modern publishing world isn’t designed for small press printing so it seems the Internet and blogs particularly have stepped in to fill a need. The modern bloggers recreate the kinds of conversations that used to be in salons, coffee houses and backyards. Disregarding the flotsam, blogging seems to be democracy in action. This inspires me, as do the modern literati and although I know my contribution is paltry; I feel the need to throw my hat into the ring.

That’s the reason I started this blog. I am an ordinary woman, surrounded by the extraordinary, the sublime and the vulgar. I’m an ordinary woman writing a blog because painting takes too long, scrap booking is fun but expensive and the early morning hours between 4:30 and 6:00 a.m. are the only hours of solitude I have and are the perfect, peaceful time to put my thoughts to paper.

Thank you in advance for spending a little time in my extraordinary, ordinary world.