Blogging poses an interesting conundrum for me in terms of I like being out there and having you all read what I write. Who doesn’t? It makes me feel good that you care enough about what’s going on in my life to spend a few minutes a few days a week here with me. BUT I also have to keep some things under wraps and that feels weird to keep a secret from myself, sort of, on the blog. Also, if I don’t tell someone I’m doing something, then I’m not sure I want it splashed out on my blog that indeed I am doing something. I’m not sure where all the secrecy and hiding comes from. Maybe it stems from not getting to keep our Halloween candy all those years ago, so we hid it in our pillowcases to snack on at night, after we’d brushed our teeth. See there’s a secret I don’t mind if my parents read now.
Not that they’re big secrets or lies, but here’s another example. I overscheduled us this weekend, by accident. My parents left here on Saturday, I thought my friend asked if I wanted to go to McCall’s Pumpkin Patch on Sunday, and our other friends were having a pumpkin carving party. Somehow I ended up making it so that we dropped my parents off at the airport, went to the party, hung out, and then left before it got into full swing. I wanted to lie about why we had to leave the party because I didn’t want our friends to feel bad that we were leaving, but Patrick outed me and told the truth. It’s kind of a relief because I can blog now about going to the pumpkin patch, and I wouldn’t have been able to if our friends thought we were going home to put the baby down for a nap.
I’m necessarily reluctant to share too much about my job search at this point. I’ve applied for some, and I’m really excited about the possibility of moving somewhere new and learning all about the new location.
Here’s all of us dressed the same:
And Seamus playing in the corn box. He learned a new word: “Shovel.”
Gilbert looks so much like Seamus…that photo shows it so well. And check out Seamus’s dad-like “sideburns” (dirt smudge?) in the photo next to his dad. Wonderful pictures, Leigh.
I personally have to force myself to tell the truth in my private written journal. I have visions of someone — you, maybe, reading about all the crap after I’m gone. Then I look at how many books of poorly written scribble those journals amount to and I think “who in their right mind would read all of this”. So I do what I used to counsel in my journal writing workshops: “tell the turth and tell it sooner rather than later”. But a blog is different — it is by definition being read by others and not after you are dead (and therefore safe from the consequences). So go ahead and censor yourself which is probably what anybody with sense does in a blog.