Today doesn't seem to be a good day for concentration. I want to write a cogent post but can't wrap my head around a topic. I want to develop this blog but can't concentrate long enough to learn how to develop the look and navigation.
My mind is elsewhere. Every single elsewhere. I'm thinking about my mom and her health and healthcare through the journey of dementia. I'm thinking of my husband and how we can improve our relationship and communication. I'm thinking of the monarch caterpillars on my single, lonely milkweed plant in the backyard and how to see them safely through pupa and emerging as a beautiful butterfly. I'm thinking of my elderly dogs and how to keep them as healthy and pain-free as possible. I'm thinking of the house and laundry that needs done. I'm thinking of my half-hearted job search and, at 50, what I want to be when I grow up.
I started this blog as a personal journal of sorts, one that I could share with the world if and when I chose to. One week in and I'm glad that so far no random stranger has stumbled across any of these posts. Maybe I should create separate pages, maybe I should just let everything be stream of consciousness, maybe I should delete the whole thing and start over when I feel motivated.
Oh, wait, motivation comes from doing, not the other way around.
Well, I am writing, even if it isn't high literature. I'm doing, keeping my promise to myself that I would write something at least once a week and whenever the mood strikes.
On that note, I'm going to take a short walk and check out some of my other plants.
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