I got an email this morning from a blogger whom I admire tremendously and whose blog I lurk at regularly but can't comment on due to the fact that at one point a few years ago I started an anonymous blog at another blogging platform (okay, maybe it was more than one- both blogs and platforms) and now I can't comment on blogs written on those platforms because they INSIST that I be identified as the person who wrote those anonymous blogs even though I have done everything within my personal power to eliminate, decimate those blogs and even written to their help section to ask them to DO SOMETHING ABOUT REMOVING ME but no, they can't, they won't, they don't.
As long as I am using my email address, they won't let me post with my real true self and dammit, I refuse to open up another damn email address and can you tell I just woke up?
Anyway, this blogger, who is Andrea Carlisle who blogs at Go Ask Alice...When She's 94 was passing along an award, one of those things that used to happen all the time in blogging but don't so much anymore, a Very Inspiring Blogger Award, and I wrote her back and told her that no, these things sort of make me feel weird and also, part of the deal is that you're supposed to write seven things that people may not know about you and I told her that after all this time that if there are things people don't know about me that's because I really don't want them to and so there you go.
BUT, golly, I am honored, and especially since her other choice of a blog to nominate was Elizabeth, our dear, dear Elizabeth at A Moon, Worn As If It Had Been A Shell, so you know I'm doubly honored.
Anyway, if you have never read Andrea, please go there and do. She writes about her mother, Alice, and as I told Andrea in my return email, her story gives me a space and a place to fantasize about what it would have been like to have had a relationship with my mother which had been more loving and openhearted. She even managed to get k.d. Lang (Alice's favorite singer) to come and visit her mama at the assisted living where she lives and I fell in love with Andrea and Alice even more because k.d. has been a hero and personal favorite of mine for about forever.
Okay, yes, I am rambling like a drunk on Friday night.
The point is, well, what IS my point?
I am honored.
I saw an article yesterday about how maybe blogging is dying and I thought to myself, "Not for me." I didn't even read the article, truthfully. I think maybe the fresh new bloom is off the rose for all of the people who thought they were going to get in there and make a ton of money, or even any money from their blogs, inspired by Dooce and Pioneer Woman, but for those of us who come to this place to write because we HAVE to write and because we have found within it a community that lights our souls and which makes us feel as if our hands are being held in the darkness and with which we have become so entangled and connected that we feel pride when someone's child does something amazing and we hurt when another of us hurts and we feel as comfortable in each other's living rooms and kitchens and on porches as we do in our own, well...for us, blogging is not dead at all but a living, breathing, very real thing.
Hey! It's saved my life and often times my sanity and that's all there is to it.
So, good morning and thank you, Andrea, and thank you to all of you- my friends here and I am not just saying that. I mean it with every red blood cell in my body. Probably more than you can ever know. Or maybe you do because blogging means that much to you too. Thank you all for all the windows and doors you fling open and allow me into and welcome me with words and pictures from your worlds, your families, your hearts, your souls, your places here on this planet. How could THAT die?
Good morning, happy Friday. The boys are coming and I need to get ready. The sky is gray and the wisteria is blooming. The chickens are asking to be let out and I am so glad to be here. In Lloyd and in cyberspace and in your lives.