So. February 11 was the last post. I am sure I was gaining quite a following (up to 5, possibly?) but then fell off the earth. Funny how that happens. I take comfort in knowing I am not the only one. Granted, a lot of folks I read regularly live in Australia where it is summer right now, but whatever; I’ll take the comfort where I can get it.

Always looking at life through the eyes of a blogger, though. I take pictures with the express purpose of blogging about them. Observe:

Sunset via Ikea and Snowflakes

I was washing dishes one afternoon and this is what I was looking at, so I took a picture thinking, “I could use that as a header for the blog”. That was February 27. Then on March 10 I took this one with the intent of posting about how Sarah’s photo on Flickr had inspired me (it says she posted it February 10th!!!) to let Ellen take her horses (from Aunt Ana) into the bath. A “light bulb moment” I think Oprah calls it. Or, more commonly referred to around here as DUH!!

Horses need to bathe, too.

Oh, and the random calf was from a road trip last summer. We thought it would be funny to have things that Ellen could spot on the ride. Lots and lots of cows are spotted when trekking through Wisconsin…

So, I have been thinking a lot about blogging and just waiting for the laziness to abate. I am forever thinking to myself a thought that would be funny to blog about, but never actually sitting down to record it. I have thought a lot about why I blog and I would be lying if I said there isn’t a large part of me that wants a response. But I have been trying to re frame and think about how I hate to diary anything, and here is a slight chance to redeem that. My sister has these intense diaries from birth (it seems…she is the oldest, she has a baby book) and that is just not me. My husband and I have been talking about how sad we are that we do not have better documentation of the funny things Ellen says. Try though we do, they are becoming harder and harder to hang onto. I remember as a nanny lo, those many years ago, when I cursed myself into oblivion with so many things (“My child will never…”) wondering why it was that people let their children say silly words instead of correcting them and saying the proper one. Now, as I call one of my best friends by my daughter’s version of her name (“Steph”, which Ellen always said phonetically backwards as “Fetz”) I realize how slight and insignificant this issue really is. She grows, friends. And it is way, way, way too fast for me.