When I started this, I edited the title to say, "writing day 1", intending the next page to be "... day 2" and so on, but apparently changing the title would start a whole new persona and people could not find me, so I will continue with "... day 1". Mea Cupa.
It is still fairly early at the beginning of the new year. I could not sleep this morning as I slept too much yesterday morning. It is cold here in South Dakota, currently 2° F but with blowing and a little snow, so it feels like -19° F. I need to clean up after the snowplow went past the end of our driveway today, but I will wait at least until it gets light out.
The sun sleeps in at these northern latitudes. Not as much as further north, but 8 AM is late since school starts here at 7:30 AM. The sun sets at 5 PM, so the daylight only lasts 9 hours, but that is increasing.
Next week is the January "Book-in-a-week" writing event. I haven't been active with it for several months, but I will try to write 25 pages in seven days starting 1/3/2011.
It seems a bit strange writing 2011 - my life is slipping away a year at a time. I will be 69 in a week. I frequently forget what year to write on checks and so on, reminding me of my mother.
"Why?" you might ask. My mother and I were born on the same date, but she was born, according to her, in 1918. When her second husband, about a decade older than her, applied for Social Security, they needed to find a copy of her birth certificate. She was shocked to see it saying that she was born in 1917. I attempted to soothe her by relating how so many people forget and write last year's date in the first few days of a new year and that her doctor had probably done that. Recently, I was checking some information on Ancestry.com and I was able to look at the original census report from 1920. It showed that my grandparents had three daughters, but that the youngest, my mother, was three years old in 1920, but named "Drecy" and not "Grace". Looking carefully at the hand written record, I could see that the census taker had written "Grace" but it looked like "Drecy". When the record was translated to digital, the reader got it wrong, but my mother was born in 1917. Forgive me, nameless doctor.
It is still fairly early at the beginning of the new year. I could not sleep this morning as I slept too much yesterday morning. It is cold here in South Dakota, currently 2° F but with blowing and a little snow, so it feels like -19° F. I need to clean up after the snowplow went past the end of our driveway today, but I will wait at least until it gets light out.
The sun sleeps in at these northern latitudes. Not as much as further north, but 8 AM is late since school starts here at 7:30 AM. The sun sets at 5 PM, so the daylight only lasts 9 hours, but that is increasing.
Next week is the January "Book-in-a-week" writing event. I haven't been active with it for several months, but I will try to write 25 pages in seven days starting 1/3/2011.
It seems a bit strange writing 2011 - my life is slipping away a year at a time. I will be 69 in a week. I frequently forget what year to write on checks and so on, reminding me of my mother.
"Why?" you might ask. My mother and I were born on the same date, but she was born, according to her, in 1918. When her second husband, about a decade older than her, applied for Social Security, they needed to find a copy of her birth certificate. She was shocked to see it saying that she was born in 1917. I attempted to soothe her by relating how so many people forget and write last year's date in the first few days of a new year and that her doctor had probably done that. Recently, I was checking some information on Ancestry.com and I was able to look at the original census report from 1920. It showed that my grandparents had three daughters, but that the youngest, my mother, was three years old in 1920, but named "Drecy" and not "Grace". Looking carefully at the hand written record, I could see that the census taker had written "Grace" but it looked like "Drecy". When the record was translated to digital, the reader got it wrong, but my mother was born in 1917. Forgive me, nameless doctor.
