Friday, July 30, 2021

Blogging Makes Me...

Blogging gives me many feelings, sensations, notions. Writing, and sharing, can be like sitting alone in my feelings, talking aloud, maybe a bit like running around and throwing off articles of clothing... exposed, in other words.

Well. Whether publishing my deep thoughts and other musings makes me feel exposed, or elated, mildly amused, or like an acclaimed correspondent, I accept full responsibility and all of the consequence of my emotions, self-doubt, mild amusement, over-exposure, and/or mediocrity. I tread this path voluntarily, willingly, unceasing!

I miss Teresa, which I hope won't be construed as an utterly selfish thing to say. But I suppose my reasons could seem selfish, because I miss her comments on this blog, and the emails we exchanged. I would have met her, I know, at the Vista House. She invited me to let her show me around there. She knew it well, and I was looking forward to meeting her. She'd become such an inspiring role model for me. She reminded me to keep a postive outlook, to keep busy, to keep moving forward. I was always astonished at how much she was into, planning, and had already accomplished! Her engagement was motivation to recommit to blogging, and to looking forward. She's someone I think of when I feel low, or like I don't make a difference... her words, her enthusiasm come to mind, and I hear in my head, What would Teresa Kasner do? It shakes me up, realigns me. I am glad I had the pleasure and good fortune of, even briefly, exchanging ideas and kindnesses with her.

Just now I was going to start the next blog post about this big trip we were on, and I have been enjoying writing all of it down, processing my thoughts and memories. But I heard a voice of doubt, and second guessed my intentions. I won't stop these posts, but just for today, I am giving it a rest. I'll be right back at it, no doubt! And in the meantime, maybe someone will ask... What else did you do? Did you go any place weird, or kitschy? Have you had enough of Portland, or have you already started planning how to get back? Do you really think you would move there, and how many houses would you need?
Soft G, or hard G? I wonder, because it makes a difference. Oh, I see a small boat is a dinghy! So, this is a soft G, dingy... shabby, dirty, drab and grimey. Yes, I have been Dingy, from time to time. And my house, well, it gets Dingy, too. But I wouldn't say that blogging makes me dingy.
Droopy? Totally relatable, figuratively, and literally. In the case of sitting at the desk, for a long time, I have to admit, blogging makes my posture droopy. That's not great.
I like to think I don't get Grouchy. But. I have been Hangry. Cranky. Finickety (irritated, fidgety and persnickety with no known cause.) Moody. Mean. Heated. Ok, honestly, when I feel like an invisible, mediocre, pointless blogger, then blogging makes me grouchy. I'd be lying if I denied this.
Oh dear. Blogging does not make me lumpy. That's all I want to say about this.
For sure! I am like a gold medalist for Snoozy. I nap. I doze. I go to bed early. My dream house has a place to curl up in every room, just in case, but I don't get snoozy from blogging, and I hope you don't feel snoozy reading Chickenblog. Hello? Are you... awake?
Wheezy, heh? My allergies manifest as hives. Fortunately blogging doesn't give me hives, or make me wheezy.
No. Yeah, not this. That word is awkward, maybe a saccharine connotation for me. Blogging makes me thankful, relieved, comforted, organized, mindful, attentive, nostalgic, motivated, inspired, it makes me feel connected, stimulated, and like I have sorted things out, processed some of the ideas and reactions that are filling my head. And blogging makes me glad, because I use it to learn... to learn new words, new concepts, how things work, where things are, about history, politics, art, culture, nature, anything. Maybe that's why I can never stick to the blogging advice about keeping to a few subjects, curating one look. Blogging makes me smile, when I can explore, grow, share, engage, and revisit good times, dear people, and possibilities.


lilysgrannie said...

Perhaps you came upon dwarf names on the cobblestone? So clever of you to adapt them to your blog. Yes, I too miss Theresa and actually thought of both of you and how you planned to meet while you were visiting Portland when I read your blog yesterday. Losing her was such an immense loss for so many people, some who never even met her like me. This all came to mind even though I didn't actually know your plans. Have a safe drive home.

Natalie, the Chickenblogger said...

Yes... the names of seven dwarves, only not the Disney ones, because of copyright, I suppose. We were in an *Enchanted Forest.*
We know, don't we? She was remarkable, and I think it's also remarkable how many of us "strangers" feel linked because of her. I hope her close friends, family, and even those of us that felt connected, are well, and still inspired by her, in all the good ways she influenced and affected us. I want her goodness to remain, and spread.
Thank you for commenting. And for the safe drive home wishes... I made it back. It's been over a week! Hmmm, maybe this means it's time to finish unpacking?

Dayle Kasner said...

Hi Natalie... I am Dayle, Teresa's husband. I want to thank you for remembering her as what I consider as one of kindest, genuinely good people I have ever had in my life. She was also a force of nature when in came to accomplishing anything she wanted to. Her and I met when she was 14.5 and I was 16, so I spent my entire life with her.

Last night I came in from working on cleaning the water feature, and I saw your post about the dog. I was going to respond that I would pick it up for you, but I saw that someone else did.

Natalie, the Chickenblogger said...

Dayle. I wonder if you can imagine the happy tears and appreciation I have been experiencing since reading your very kind comment. Thank you. And thank you for sharing more details and reflections about your lovely wife, and friend. It makes me happy to know that the two of you met so early, and enjoyed long, good lives together. I know she was kind, and good, and I can see why she chose to be with you. Her admiration and appreciation for you was in almost every post she wrote, and clearly you are kind and good, thoughtful, generous, too. The idea, alone, that you would go out of your way and help me get the Doggo... it recalls so many times when I read about things you did for Teresa, things she shared with so much delight and pleasure. I am surprised to find kindness like you've offered me, and yet, how can I be surprised, when I have heard of your goodwill so often from Teresa? Thank you for extending your thoughtfulness to me.
My husband and I met when I was 14, and he was 15, and we have been married 32 years... growing up together has been priceless. I hope that we will be as happy, and make as much happiness for others, as you and Teresa have.