Transition: Part I of too many to count and counting

Some thoughts on impending moves and such

I love this poem by Marianne Moore:

Silence

My father used to say,
"Superior people never make long visits,
have to be shown Longfellow's grave
or the glass flowers at Harvard.
Self-reliant like the cat--
that takes its prey to privacy,
the mouse's limp tail hanging like a shoelace from its mouth--
they sometimes enjoy solitude,
and can be robbed of speech
by speech which delights them.
The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence;
not in silence, but restraint."
Nor was he insincere in saying, "Make my house your inn."
Inns are not residences.

Wondrous it is that a little golden haired girl and her cooing cohort can rob me of speech. I hope I can remember that "Inns are not residences."

Found a Chair

I never like to start a new project right away. Long after the necessary materials are purchased and fawned over, they can be found gathering dust in some fairly conspicuous spot. I glance at them as I pass by--and the desire is momentarily quickened once again. I mull things over for a while--days and weeks will pass. Indeed, as anyone who knows me well can attest, months and even years can (and often do) roll by in a kind of ritual waiting. If life is like a game of musical chairs, it would seem that I am rarely a winner. 

So it is with this "project." My lovely blog design has been finished for over a year and up until now, I have yet to post a single word. 

Even as I write this I am feeling a bit unsure about how to proceed and thinking of abandoning the whole silly business. That is part of the problem...It seems a bit silly--this whole blogging business. 

It seems that everyone has something to say. Almost any conceivable topic at any given moment of every day is being written about and sent out into the universe via the web. 

If you want to read about raising children, or goats or flowers or oats, there is a blog (or blogs) ready to give you an eye full of advise, or a simple suggestion or two. If that doesn't do the trick there is the ever ubiquitous "link" to a YouTube Video that will calm your angst, and quell your query all the while making you laugh to the point of  incontinence. 

What could I possibly add to the mix? 

I think it was Cheever who once said that a writer must believe in the notion that they have something important to say--something that other humans, not only want to hear, but need to hear. 

I'm not sure about that, but it's something to think about. And for now, that's good enough.