Sunday, August 12, 2012

my other anniversary

The day just crept up this year before I realized it. Three years ago I wrote a post about my great niece and her fascination with my purse and posted it for my family. Two years and over 352 posts later, I am still posting for my family. That family has grown to include those of you kind enough to stop by and read a bit about the foibles of a middle aged grammy. (Ok so middle age is now 60. I think it's reasonable to plan to live to 120, don't you?)

I appreciate all the kind words and interest you have shown to me. I have met some marvelous people because of this little blog, and for that I am truly blessed. If you have laughed, that is always good medicine. If you've read and learned something, that's a plus too. If you enjoyed my photos and haiku, then I met my goal as an artist.  And if it's a way to kill a little bit of time with your morning coffee, then it's all good.

Thanks for the comments you have taken time to write.  Anyone who writes words for others to read enjoys knowing they aren't sending them into the vacuum of cyberspace.  I don't expect comments, but enjoy reading your thoughts.

I decided to slow down my posts a bit the past few months.  My personal life has become busier, and life seems to be flying by at the speed of light lately.  I plan to continue to post twice a week.  If I post more than that, it is because I have an extra moment or two, or something insanely funny has happened that I can humiliate my family telling about.

I am sharing some of my favorites from the past two years with you today.  I don't expect you to read them all, but I have enjoyed compiling the links and reliving some of the past three years of blogging about my thoughts.

My first post:
kayla's lipstick adventure

How I see my world:
the perfect sunset and morning dew and caught between worlds and clouds got in my way

I was blogging before I knew about blogs:
plane karma version 2.1

Why I collect earrings:
maddie's earrings

My sisters:
sisters and sister wine

Why he is Stevie Wonder to me:
deep earth and the softness of a man

My kids:
      Wretch: trolls 
     Jenny Wren: about my daughter on her day of days
     Sneezer: the son becomes the father

My soap box:
the flip side and when the medication is right

for mary on mother's day

Why August makes me sad:

The lights of my life:
shot down in one sentence and jack and the magic toadstool and just john and the world in his face

I realized as I compiled this list that I have met the goal I set for myself two years ago. The reason I first began to blog.  It wasn't to become a writer, or be published, or to make money.  I have piddled around with some of the social networking but never totally dedicated myself as so many of you gifted writers and fine bloggers out there have done, because my intent was different.

I have often wondered what my Grammy and Grandma thought about things, what made them who they are.  They both spent hours telling me things about the family, and their pasts.  I loved the stories I listened to as I grew up.  And that was what set me on the blogging path.  I wanted to leave behind something tangible my grandchildren would have when I was gone, something they could pass on to their children, and to their grandchildren.  Our history, with a twist.  I hope they will see that every word I have written has been for them.

Because they are the best part of me. is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter


  1. 352! My! You have written a lot. I don't know when I hopped by your blog, maybe Janine introduced me to it but yes, I love every time you post. I might not be able to comment, but I read and it fills me with a sense of hope every time.

    Thanks for being a wonderful writer.

  2. I second what Hajra says. I haven't been reading as much as I should lately for the reasons you cite above, busier life and time flying but I absolutely love reading your blog and hope you continue to write for a long time into the future. You make me laugh and you make me cry, you always have something to offer.