Well, it's been ages since I've written.  Partly its because I've been so busy and we've had to do a lot of moving from place to place--so I don't have the computer often, and sometimes when I do I am just too exhausted to write.  The second reason I didn't write for so long is that the last thing I wrote had been about losing my mom (it got accidently erased), and no one had any comments about it.  I guess the little girl in me is still looking for consolation.  Silly really.

I've been doing a lot of reading and research about writing a mystery novel.  I truly want to do it, but I fear I can't and that I just don't have the imagination or the discipline to finish a book.  Then I was thinking the other night when I watched an amazing show about two groups of survivors from the WTC, that maybe I should just write because who knows what tomorrow will bring--if it comes at all.

Who was it who said :  "If you want to be a writer:  write."?

Been feeling kind of down lately.  Summer is almost over--my garden went to hell and I didn't get hardly any herbs harvested.  I didn't get to go to the Oregon Coast and stay with my old friends in the annual "beach house vacation," (that I've never been able to attend.  My siblings don't communicate with me in any way:  via phone, snail mail, or e-mail.  I get tired of being the one that is always reaching out to them, always remembring the birthdays and the one who sends the holiday cards.  I'm the "baby" and they're the older siblings:  it's about time they took over some of the responsibility for the relationship--or at least share it with me.  Ever since my divorce, boy, I have been like the kiss of death when it comes to my sis and bro.  A couple of hypocrits and I could prove it if I wanted to air dirty laundry--but I am not about to do that.

Even my "best" friend doesn't communicate with me.  I realize she had a baby (almost TWO years ago) and she is probably very busy and tired; but I get tired too--I work hard--yet I always make a point of sneding cards--calling her (I end up leaving messages on her machine), and sending little presents (like we've always done for each other.  This is standard operatiung procedure for her, I hate to admit, when things are rough she calls me all the time--when things are good I never hear from her.  Even my ex-husband told me it irritates him to see her treat me like that.  Ah well.

So, that's my whine-fest.  My typing is also slow and full of mistakes because I still can't feel my index finger on the hand I cut earlier this summer.