I love fresh, new beginnings. The flawless and untainted canvas of a new beginning excites the perfectionist in me. I love them so much that I’m slow as molasses to make my first mark on them. Untouched snow looks so much better to me than a snowman and snow-angel. I want to know ahead of time each stroke I’ll paint, each letter I’ll type. I want everything to be just right.
That’s how I have felt for the past few weeks about this blog. What will it be about? How will it help people? Who will even follow it or care about anything I write? What do I really have to offer anyone?
But now it’s time to make the first mark. I just need to be OK with the evolution of it. And know that almost no one will even read this first post.
So hello, world! Here’s to new beginnings on a nondescript day, at a nondescript time, in my nondescript living room, doing one of my particularly favorite things: listening to my husband Jason play guitar and watching my 4-month-old Howard watch him, intrigued.