Reading their work and getting to know them again has made me remember part of who I used to be, part of me that, while not dead, has been in a kind of hibernation--thanks largely to two lovely, life-consuming little boys. The same part of me that I was thrilled to rediscover a few months back when I found myself listening to that Dvorak violin concerto that I once loved. The part of me that is free and joyful and curious and alive. The part of me that longs to write.
It's been a long time since I've written much. (Sure, there was that novel I wrote for NaNoWriMo a year and a half ago, but that was truly abysmal, and therefore doesn't count.) I realize that, despite what my mother might have told you, I'm not exactly a pulitzer-worthy writer at the moment. And I'm not happy with how I ended that sentence, but I can't think of anything better right now. See?!
But the point of resurrecting the Daily Jo really isn't to wow you with my linguistic prowess. Which is good, because since most of my conversations are with a nonverbal baby and an only slightly (but hilariously) verbal two-year-old, even just my vocabulary has become, um, not big and good. Or something.
The point of this is for me to write, for me to work through myself, and for you, fair readers, to either comment up a storm, quietly lurk about, or ignore the whole thing and forget that I even had a blog. And I'll be honest, a part of me really wants everyone to do that last one.
More to come.
