A Walk

For the first time since we moved to our house on the east side of town, I took a walk to the library. It was the first sunny day we had in a long time and I was itching to get out. The walk was twenty minutes one way. It took me through a small neighborhood park and pass quiet neighborhood streets. I arrived at the library just as the high school next door let out. The sun and activity, the noise and energy of the young people around me, was invigerating.

In the library I browsed the New Yorker for awhile. Then I picked up the book I had on-hold and walked back. This was a wonderful departure from my usual routine. I need to get out more.

So, I finished The Historian and I am now starting Chuck Palahniuk's Fugitives and Refugees. I am happy to report that I haven't bought any books so far this year, per my New Year's resolution.

First Thing

I just checked the dates on my first livejournal, comparing to this one. I found, to my surprise, that this blogspot journal was the very first journal/blog I created. Back in August of 2004 I found blogspot very confusing. I found it mystifying how to find other bloggers or how other bloggers would find me. Livejournal seemed to make social networking easier.

Then there is the problem of what to write. I am not a writer. Any journaling I do, (online or on paper), is always driven by an inner desire to express strong feelings or memories.

I think of it as untangling strings of balloons, trying to order the chaos.