I found that it is harder to write a blog when you are in the middle of the living/dining/kitchen area with a whole boatload of people. Especially my Dad, who kept saying, "Are you writing your blog?" He didn't come out and say, "Are you writing about me?" which is what my mom would have said. I'd have said, "No," then written, "Dad thinks I'm writing about him." So, technically, the answer would be yes, but nothing interesting.
Dad has heard my friends (including my sister) and me talking about things I've written. One friend has said he doesn't need to ask what I've been up to, since he reads the blog. It does save time at happy hour. I have sent my Dad my blog when I have written about him (or did I just tell him about it?)
I always write as if Dad would read it, which may surprise some people, considering how disgusting I can be. I just don't say mean things about people I know. Everyone has their boundaries. I talk about sex, money, weight, religion, and politics. I don't say ugly things about people in writing, if it's possible they will read it and
Since my general philosophy is
I'm not sure what my point is, originally or recently. But those are my Sunday morning musings. I think I need some grits.