...for a time, dear reader, just for a time.
When I first became aware of blogging, I began writing and reading. My first blog entry was about a trip to Spain we had recently completed. Once I wrote up the entire vacation experiences, I moved on to other topics--plumbing childhood memory depths, then observations about teaching, life, movies, along with the occasional rant.
I also began reading other writers' blogs. Blogging is so much more satisfying for me than tweeting, or than reading Facebook entries. First, almost every subject I can think of as a potential writing topic requires more than the truncated entry requirement of Twitter, and more than the clever or titillating bon mot that catches my eye on Facebook. Second, I tend to limit whose blogs I read, which I also do with Twitter (for me, the least used of these self-expression media), but which I am less inclined to do with Facebook. While I don't accept every request to "be friends" on Facebook, I have a wider circle there than I do in the blogging world.
But what I observe is that blogging is slowly falling out of favor. Some of the early blogs I read no longer exist--in a few instances, the writers have died: they wrote bravely about their struggles with diseases that eventually silenced them. Some of the blogs I read have fallen by the wayside as the writers move on to other ventures. Some bloggers are still perking along, bubbling with a fountain of creativity as prolific as Ponce de Leon's mythical fountain of youth. Sometimes I find a new blog to read and enjoy (see Pieces of Peace).
I know, in the core of my writing being, that Facebook will also fade. And as I peruse the entries each day, I see it fading. No need to catalog the Facebook complaints and woes here.
So, why my dire "The Last Word..." title? Because I am about to take a mini-blogging break.
While you know we have traveled--both to the west (California, here we come!) and east (maybe something to do with this sweetie), ----------->
I will soon be venturing down a path that age has set me upon.
SIGH. The knee that has plagued me since college basketball is about to be replaced. And I will provide humor fodder for my husband as I try to make my way around with a walker.
When I muster enough energy to come back to writing, I will. Maybe I will have some new hospital stories. Maybe I will have a rant or two. But, whatever I do, I will pick up the proverbial pen and resume writing.