Maybe,

I'm not blogger material. I want to blog.  I blog in my head all the time. I even have scraps of paper covered with notes about stuff I should blog about. But then the stuff I want to blog about keeps me so busy that I don't have time to blog about it.
It's hard to write about cooking, when there's a meal to be made.
Or to write about Mom when she's asking  "Is there anything new on the computer?"
Or to write about grandchildren when they're here to play with and hold.
Or to write about writing when there's writing to be done.

angst [æŋst (German) aŋst]

n

1. an acute but nonspecific sense of anxiety or remorse

2. (Philosophy) (in Existentialist philosophy) the dread caused by man's awareness that his future is not determined but must be freely chosen

[German]

Collins English Dictionary – Complete and Unabridged © HarperCollins Publishers 1991, 1994, 1998, 2000, 2003

Yup, that pretty much sums it up.

Here are a few photos from a fun morning with Phoebe and MaryJean. As you can see, we had a very special guest.

It's snowing again.
I may or may not go Christmas shopping this year.
I haven't written the last "Treble" post.
I ate potato chips in the middle of the night last night.
I cried when I saw Harrison smile for the first time.
Sitting here in my kitchen, listening to Christmas carols, having one last  cup of coffee

I may or may not keep blogging.