I tend to begin my days with a bit of reading, including news, facebook updates, emails, and other blogs. While I read I almost always think of 47 things I'd like to write about, but there are cereal bowls to wash and laundry to do and floors to sweep. There's a sweet little boy tugging on my leg, asking for water, or more cereal, or for me to play trains with him. So the day rolls on. I've got this thing and that thing to do. When I'm not doing those things I'm working puzzles and reading stories and building train tracks.
Then those little breaks come. The ones that I could use to blog, but don't. A real post takes some time and thought, and those little breaks aren't quite long enough to turn my ideas and feelings into coherent sentences. Mostly I let Pinterest or Facebook or Yahoo News suck away the time of these little breaks. I say to myself: I'll blog after Pirate goes to bed tonight.
Then bedtime comes. It's always a battle, one that leaves me too exhausted for rational thought. I end up watching tv, until I can go to bed. Then I go to bed.
With the morning, the cycle begins again.
I suppose I should simply accept the fact that for the time being these journal-ish entries will be all that I'll be capable of writing. It's a times and seasons thing, really.