This morning MMCB₂ was mildly lamenting that she didn’t keep a journal through the pandemic. Another of her monikers is Bubbe and she has been watching her local grandkids throughout most of it. They have all avoided the plague so far. I hope it stays that way but the younger child is not yet eligible to be vaxxed and I don’t think I know ANYONE who hasn’t had at least a potential exposure at this point. Fingers crossed for them.

As she talked about journaling, I just cracked up. Because I have been “journaling” on this platform for, well, it’ll be 19 years sometime this summer and that definitely includes the pandemic. MMCB₁ was giggling because she does know that I am an incorrigible blahgger. I don’t think she reads me, at least not often. She does look at what I post on Facebook but that isn’t all that much these days because Facebook drives me nutsier and nutsier all the time and it is NOT because of the Wordle posts. They drive me a little nuts but I think the habit of posting them will be short-lived.

I have blahgged through the later years of my kids’ high school and college careers, my later theatre guild management years and the end of them, my sojourn at community college, my brother’s, dad’s, mother’s, Radical Betty’s, and other relatives’ deaths, my decision to embark on my Adult Career and the going on 15 (YES!) years of that. Carefully, of course. You can’t really blahg about your job although I have never been able to think of anything but good things to say about mine and it continues to save my SANITY during the pandemic (which isn’t over no matter what anyone says…). I wonder if I’ll ever be able to sort anything incoherent about the pandemic out of my blahg…

Really my blahg has always been mainly a way for me to dump some crapola out of my brain. If people want to read it, that’s fine. If not, so be it. I love comments but I am not a comment whore. I am not a big commenter myself 🧡

In other news, winter is NOT over yet here in the Great Lake State but I heard bird SONG for the first time today. Not just grokking and grackling around. I mean SONG. Like, here I am, let’s make babies. And life goes on.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, February 23rd, 2022 at 6:54 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.