Haven’t felt like writing.  Can I only write when I’m unhappy?  Perhaps.

What’s to figure out when you’re content.  Why go to any efforts to figure out why I am content? I’m like those happy cows in the field, grazing along—lots of grass, sunshine and camaraderie.I feel calm, collected and kind of empty.  Isn’t this silly to worry about feeling calm and collected?  Who am I without my cares?

This is what I thought…I must be developing Alzheimers.  The fact that I can sit quite happily and stare out of a window means I’m losing it.  If this is losing it bring it on.

Oh and by the way if you need something to worry about and you want to share it with the children. consider the above.

I just found this line in a poem at the bottom of January’s blogs:

“something new is being born in us…”.  Yes that is what I feel.  Wow!