Happy Birthday To LifePrints - My Little Bloggy Is One!

Last spring my husband said, "This guy at work say it's possible to make tons of money with a blog. Why don't you think about starting one." Filled with visions of millions of Google Adsense dollars I went on a learning binge to figure out what the blogging hype was all about. Within a few weeks, my brainchild, LifePrints was born. So much easier and faster than the creation of my other children! That took nine months and some hard labor at the end.

A year later, I can proudly say that I love my little bloggy. She doesn't make me much money. Adsesnse will never pay my bills and I don't care. It's okay because what I've gained by spending time with 'her' is so much more valuable than ad clicks. My fellow writer/bloggers probably get understand thise but for those who are shaking their heads, let me explain...

Because of LifePrints and it's focus on the positive, my world view has slowly shifted from 'we are hopelessly doomed" to "wow! we can make this work if we just try". Because of my constant search for topics and people to write about I always have my ear to the ground for the good things in life. That's a huge paradigm shift for me.

When I wrote about the maimed children of Sierra Leone I cried as I typed and when I wrote about the fun of spontaneous pillow fights, I laughed out loud and couldn't wait to attack my brood with a big fluffy one when they walked in the door. Writing for my blog has opened my eyes to different views of the world and all the emotions that come along with them.

I now have friends and collegues all over the world. My favorites are in Malta, Paris, Perth, New York, Virginia, California, and Illinois. And some I'd like to put on this list but I'm not sure where they live. Someday I hope to meet a few of them in person and thank them for their kindness and generosity of spirit.

Constantly writing articles forces me to hone my skills, not the least of which are the research and development of ideas. Even though I've cut back on how often I post these days, I look forward to each and every time I sit down with LifePrints. I'm pushing 200 posts in my archives and I'm proud of the quality I've produced so far.

I love my readers and the interactions with them. I love comments, so please leave more and more. The back and forth flow of ideas is facinating to me. Blog Catalog sends many of you my way. They are an energetic bunch and I am happy to be part of that community. For those of you who find me by accident, thank you for reading and bless you heart. I'm sure you were surprised if you were searching for an article about "homemade plasma gasifiers". or "think thank thunk". Don't laugh, some poor soul ended up here using those search terms. All I can say is I hope you come back again.

If you have ideas for posts or know someone doing a good turn for the world, please let me know. I'd love to hear about them. I hope to keep my little bloggy alive for many years to come and if 'her'growth in one year is any indication of the future, it will be an exciting ride filled with many opportunities....and I don't mean big checks from adsense. Sorry Google, I love you but....

Happy Birthday to my little 'girl'. She's not a baby any more!

Empty Mailbox - The Lost Art of Letter Writing

I remember as a child I loved to hide in my mother's closet, way in the back, near the shelves in the corner. I'd pull a worn shoe box from the lowest shelf and carefully open the lid. I'd run my fingers through the stack of old letters contained inside, cards of condolence from my grandmother's death, letters from my uncle who lived far away, and the most fun of all - cards of congratulations from the year of my adoption.

I'd open the cards and letters, slowly read the words, wondering about the people who'd written them, what was going on in there lives so many years ago, and their connection to my parents. The smell of old paper filled the closet. I'd admire the stamps, wishing I could ask for them for my stamp collection. But then I'd have to admit to my mother that I'd gone through her personal letters and worse, she'd discover my favorite hideout.

As a teenager, I dated a young man who was away in the military. We wrote to each other most every day. I'll never forget the rush of emotion I'd get when I opened the mailbox to find an envelope with his handwriting or the let down when nothing was there. I kept those letters, in chronological order (obsessive, I know) for many years and he kept mine. It was a record, of sorts, of our young lives.

When I lived away from home I wrote faithfully to my parents. My mother kept them all, and I know, experienced the same rush as I did when she'd discover a long letter from me narrating my latest adventures as a new mother.

I don't write much anymore, a card here, a note there. She misses my ramblings about what I cooked for dinner and my most recent adventure to the beach. She misses the details. I talk to her on the phone but it's not the same. She doesn't have a computer so email is out.

And it's email that is the problem. It's taken over. I don't write anyone, anymore, unless it's digitally. I guess that counts but I wonder what will be left behind. Nothing but electronic archives, files of digital code, nothing tangible like the smell of old paper and the look of my uncles compact handwriting, his expressions of love for his little sister.

I bought a pack of artistic paper and rose colored envelopes over a month ago. I'd been thinking about letter writing and digital photos and how in this age of technology I miss holding something "real" in my hands - flipping through tattered pages and sorting old photos into stacks.

My challenge is to brighten one person's day with a letter, a tangible letter they can touch, smell, fold and put away for safe keeping. I think it will be to my mother, yes, another new one finally, to add to her box.

Who's waiting on a letter from you?