This morning as I was perusing through the blogosphere, I commented to myself, ‘who cares?’ I’m sitting here reading about someone’s personal day to day minutia and I wonder: who really cares about the day to day, minute by minute blow of a stranger’s life? Do we really need to hear about the rantings of an ironing day gone awry? Or that we’re in Starbucks sipping on a mocha macchiato frappo-something grande?

Do I write this way?

Do I subject the few readers I still have to the unscrupulous events of my day?
Are we all so bored with our lives that it has come to this?
Or, is this what a blog is for?

I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours?

No, wait ….. Come get into my life so I can feel important, needed and wanted?

Do you really want to know that we had to get more wood for the fireplace yesterday because using the heater is just too cost prohibitive? Or that I regret getting out of bed, from under the warm sanctuary of my down comforter, only to step foot into a ’meat locker’? Or that Ozzy doesn’t like walking on the grass when it’s ‘cold’, so one of us - me or the dude, mostly the dude - has to go outside to push him into taking care of business before he can come back inside?

If we’re being honest here, ‘if’ being the operative word, we all gravitate toward what makes us feel. Something. Anything.

So, yes I care. 

I care to know about your day.

I care to know about your friends, your family.

And, while it’s true we all tend to skip over the blog-parts we find boring, saying to ourselves, ‘who cares?’ I am so very happy that you keep coming back for a read, for a look-see.

After all .......