lightning strike

The other day, Mark asked if I was ever going to write in my blog again.

"What would I write about?" I said.

"I don't know," he said.  "Everyday epiphanies."

"Fresh out," I said.

The truth is, I haven't felt very inspired--or inspiring--of late, although, between the passing of a loved one and Amelia's graduation from high school, not to mention a new job and other life events I have had plenty to think about.  I just haven't felt like writing.

A friend whose blog I enjoy reading (yes, Jill, I read your blog) recently moved her family to Oklahoma by way of Virginia and other points south.  As if all that wasn't exciting enough,  when they arrived in their new home, they found themselves in the path of a tornado. Some tense moments watching the storm as it advanced and then hunkered down in the master closet made for great blogging.  "Why can't something like that happen here," I whined.

Another blogger whom I stalk (sounds creepy, doesn't it?) has the cutest kids (I've seen the pictures)  If her children don't do something cute, they say something memorable all of which lends itself to some downright precious blogs.  While my girls have their moments, few would consider their teenage hijinx cute and some of what they say should not be repeated in public.  Ever.

"Maybe," my husband offered, "it's not what you write about but how you write about it that makes the difference."

"Maybe," I said.  "But a little lightning sure would help."