Today, I blog.

I want to be a blogger, I really do. I have authored numerous blog entries, on a gamut of topics from childrearing to missing my dead father to the random weather we have experienced this spring; of course these amazing tidbits of my world have not made it from my brain to the paper (or electronic post as the case may be) but they have been written and edited and discussed ad nauseum with a few close friends. Of course there is a very extensive list of things I want to be and “blogger” happens to be the one I am tackling today.

I think a certain amount of dedication is required to be a blogger, at least to do it well and really wear the title. There are many things I find it easy to really dedicate myself to like God, my son and daughter, my husband, and tasty food. But daily writing is something I have never developed a fondness for. The pretty little diary with the golden lock and the teeny tiny key…yeah I had one…and another…and another. The pages were filled for a day or two and then the beauty of the diary lost its luster and found itself filed away forgotten in a desk drawer. And the “journals” of a college student…seriously, who had time to write in college?

So today, I am momentarily amused with myself and my desire to blog. Why on earth would I want to take on a hobby (lifestyle, habit, addiction, etc.) which is so far outside the realm of my consistent lifelong behaviors? I do not know exactly. But I hope, through the process of regularly taking the thoughts from my head and pouring them out in some recognizably assembled layout, I will slow some of the spinning in my head. Or maybe I will tire of the whole process in three or four days and file this, forgotten, away in my desk drawer.