There was a long space of time when I didn’t do what I said I was going to do, as far as writing much. I did go back to Yoga, and walking but it seems I have been remiss in keeping up my blog.
April is near, and I want to do that thing where I write a poem every day in April, because it’s Poetry Month.
Already I have butterflies.
My mind is racing, and I am grabbing at the threads of ideas that whirl around me as I go through my day. Never writing anything down, I hope my mind retains and composts all of this to use later as fodder.
Today is March 25. Good Friday. I have no plans for Easter. It will be just another Sunday. It will be what ever happens that day, I suppose. I try not to think too hard about it. I do, however, secretly rejoice in the resurrection of Jesus. How cool was that?!
I don’t go to church services any more. Cannot explain why, and don’t need to.
And now I am going to have hot dogs and macaroni and cheese.
Marble Hill Press 
You don’t need to explain anything. Regarding your butterflies, I humbly repeat the advice of Natalie Goldberg: give yourself permission to write the worst garbage in the world. We can all relate to nerves (anyone who can’t is either lying or just obnoxious), and I find the longer I put off writing something the worse the nerves get (by something, I mean something good, not the nonsense I usually pass off as blog posts). But I am so pleased to see you back in the blogging neighborhood. I look forward to reading your stuff.