Shuffling back to the blogosphere

When I shuttered A Foothills Life four months ago, I wasn't certain that I'd ever blog again.

I didn't realize just how much I would miss the act of writing. Even in the midst of an annus horribilis—my inability to find a job in Colorado; Jim's job loss after 22 years with MWH; my ongoing musculoskeletal breakdowns and pain; and, last month, my father-in-law's death—a part of my brain kept stepping aside to editorialize on events and emotions.

Perhaps the urge to write is simply genetic: three of my grandparents majored in journalism in college, while Grandma Foley was an English major.

Perhaps writing is an attempt to make sense of how a middle-aged, middle-class (dare I say boring?) life became unglued so quickly. As Alice's White Queen reminds her consort,

"The horror of that moment," the King went on, "I shall never, NEVER forget!"

"You will, though," the Queen said, "if you don't make a memorandum of it."

Or perhaps, with apologies to Descartes, J'écris donc je suis.